Keenan was sitting by the desk in his study room with a lone candle in the middle of the table. His shoulders were hunched over the desk as he wrote on the never-ending documents on his table.
He would have to do something about them. It was easier when he first started but the more work he had, the worse it got. Running an abandoned town took a lot of work but the paperwork was the worst part.
He dropped the quill and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was trying not to think about it but whenever he tried to distract himself, the letter appeared in his memory.
There was an obvious threat in the letter and he was entangled in the sheets with his enemy. He scratched his scar. One would think he would learn his lesson by now but a part of him was thinking perhaps she wasn't a part of her father's scheme.
I never learn.
