On the pillow next to her, she noticed a small letter:
Peytra,
Forgive me for leaving, but there is an errant task I must attend to. I will be back shortly to escort you through the passageways to your room. If you should wake before I return, I’ve left breakfast on the table.
Lovingly Yours,
Jors
There was indeed a large breakfast, which she only picked at. Then she noted a strange room off to the side with bathing bowls and tubs. She washed herself, dressed, and looked for a pen to write a short note.
Jors,
Don’t worry, it’s late, and I’ve gone to work.
Peytra agonized for a moment on how to return his sentiments in a way that was honest and still comfortable to her. She ended with:
Thank you for breakfast.
Affectionately Yours,
Peytra
With that, she snuck out of the room, ho
