The next morning, the sky was just beginning to pale with the first hint of dawn.
When Alistair awoke, his little maid was already gone. He was used to this; Abby always managed to dress and leave the room without disturbing his sleep.
But what was he to make of the neatly folded, freshly washed pair of stockings placed beside him on the bed? Was she suggesting he should carry them with him again?
The thought sparked a sudden, unpleasant memory. After slapping Riven back in Silversky Town, what had he used to wipe his hand?
Abby's stockings...
He meticulously replayed the details in his mind, trying to recall which players had been present. He gritted his teeth, seriously considering if he'd need to find an opportunity to silence them.
Lost in these thoughts, Alistair started to get out of bed. He had just pulled on his shirt when the door swung open. His little maid entered, carrying a basin of hot water.
"Master~ Time to wash up."
