I sit alone at my study window, surrounded by books and burnt out candles. I write as I watch my cousin, Theodore, with a wooden sword against the instructor. I remember having to learn how to fight at that age.. The failing, backlash, scolding, all of it. I wish I was a commoner rather than a noble. My thoughts interrupted by a knock. Keeping a quill in hand, my eyes on my journal, ignoring the theories of who could be on the other side. Mickey "I'm busy, go away." He said softly but firmly
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