*Dimos*
I awake to sunlight filtering in through a narrow slit where the draperies haven't been brought completely together. Considering the ache in my shoulder, I'm surprised I slept at all, but it was the sleep of the dead. I suppose all the events of last night caught up with me.
Gingerly, I work my way out of bed and glance at the corner where I discarded my trousers. They were marred with blood, so I didn't want to leave them on any furniture or carpeting, opting instead for the wood floor. But they are nowhere to be seen.
I spot some folded clothing on a chair near the fireplace. On top is a note, written in a delicate yet demanding script. "Yank the bellpull and a bath will be brought up to you." Beneath the foolscap, my trousers rest, cleaned. They must have been washed and plac
