Dominic returned to the balcony after his bath. He felt fresh. His aching muscles were now relaxed. He sniffed his pine scented shirt and he knew he had tipped Dermont well for his work. Dermont had shaved him and he felt his cheek with content. He loved feeling smooth. He detested hair on his face.
It made him feel younger, not like a nobleman burdened with problems, like a child who could have whatever his heart desires. Even if he couldn't be entirely happy. But who was?
He yawned lazily, and plopped the items he was carrying onto the cold tiled floor. He brought with him a blanket, a book and a bowl of soup. The blanket made of the thickest fur he could find, the book not his, and the soup steaming hot. He was with nature, he was with the sky and the wind which calmed him so much.
