Drool dripped from her mouth and onto the bed as Nira woke, a terrible habit that popped up every now and then. She quickly wiped her lips and pulled the sheets over the evidence of her crime. She looked out the window and saw the sun was already out. Turning around, she saw Sir Varus sleeping awkwardly at his desk. His feet splayed under the table, his arms hanging on both sides of the chair, and his face looking straight up at the ceiling with a slack-jawed mouth. The glass of wine on his table was empty, but the bread and hummus remained untouched. He was just another noble who didn’t want to eat a poor man’s food, despite all his words of saving the peasants.

She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but it was likely soon after their heated exchange. Partners weren't supposed to sleep on the bed, and they especially weren’t supposed to sleep on the bed without their client. She quickly got off, made the sheets somewhat presentable, and somewhat folded the unused blue coat on top; hopefully, Sir Varus would forget what she had done.

Nira tiptoed across the room, careful not to incur the wrath of Sir Varus again, and went outside to get the time from the attendant. Halfway into the first quarter in the day.

She came back into the room and stared at the sleeping Sir Varus. She could wake him up or let him be. Nira knew that he probably had important meetings or activities that started soon, like most nobles did, and if he happened to be late to them, he would get significant admonition, especially as a visiting foreign diplomat. The perfect petty revenge on him for ruining her chance at getting back some of her old life.

But...

She would most likely be blamed. It was part of her duties to help the guest get ready in the morning, and the attendant had seen her. He knew she was awake. Which meant that she should already have been helping the guest.

With a few curses under her breath, she went to wake up Sir Varus. It only took a couple taps on the shoulder to get a response. Surprisingly, he was a light sleeper.

“Wha-What time is it,” Sir Varus mumbled while losing a fight to open his eyes.

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“Well into the first quarter of the day.”

Without saying a word, Sir Varus shot up, picked up the small case from beside his chair, and ran to the bathroom. She heard the water splash on the ground from his bathing, mixed in with several screams in a foreign language. Nira had never heard them before, but immediately knew they were expletives. The raw emotion told by those words transcended language. Only a short moment after Sir Varus entered the bathroom, he emerged looking like a boy going to his first formal event. His hair disheveled, white shirt untucked, belt too loose for his dark grey pants. Nevertheless, Nira had never seen a man change his clothes that fast. With a sudden panic as he turned to the coat hanger and relief when he turned to the bed, he grabbed his coat and put it on. Surprisingly, he looked slightly dapper. The silver trimmings, red collar, and blue cloth all fit in well with the rest of his outfit; it was a beautiful coat. Unfortunately, the impression of beauty was brief, since he misaligned the coat buttons, and Nira had to stop herself from bursting out laughing. But with no help from servants and in only the time it took her to clean her own face, Sir Varus had transformed from street rat to castle rat. For a noble, it was impressive.

He bolted across the room, back to his table, and tossed the small case he had taken into the bathroom. Sticking out of it were the old rags he wore last night. He then picked up another brown bag, this one firmer, sturdier, and flatter than the earlier small case, and started plucking papers off the table and stuffing them into the bag.

Panting like he had run around the courtyard a few times, Sir Varus finally spoke, “Thank you for waking me up; I must have stayed up too late last night.”

“I do as you wish,” Nira mumbled back.

She didn’t know if Sir Varus heard her. If he had, he didn’t acknowledge it and instead, rushed out the door.

For Nira though, there were more duties to be completed, normally under a watchful eye. Nira looked around. Unsurprisingly, the room wasn’t dirty. The only area that seemed cluttered was the table the man had used and the bed Nira had occupied. The bathroom was wet from the bathing, but it would dry. There, her only task was to dry the towels. If she was feeling exceptional, she could even dust that chest in the corner of the room, since it was Nira’s responsibility that the room looked orderly when the king’s guest came back. But curse him if he thought Nira was going to do any of that. Even the bed that she had used would remain as it was. The rage of failing at the most important task in her life still flowed through her and clawed at her soul. Nothing mattered now.

So she followed Sir Varus and left the room.