Rory always rose early, a habit so old it wasn't just routine—it was who he was. Even when he had been up late, or slept badly, his brain kicked awake at about the same time every day, regardless of how the cycle of daylight shifted over the year. And as a result of that, he was awake when Peter came around, though not yet outside. He was still perched in his kitchen-living room area, munching on a slab of bread topped with some precious cheese and smoked meat.
Outside, Vaya, the smaller and more guard-y of his dogs, gave her typical stranger-danger bark from the goat pen. She stood below the fencing, her brown eyes hard and cold as she stared at the stranger on his porch.
The disturbance was followed shortly by a knock at his door, and Rory, who had been thinking it was probably just another fox, felt himself go cold.
Normally, he wouldn't have.
But these times were different. This day and age was different. Zariah was arresting people left and right and for what reasons? She had spoken favorably enough of him at the audience but he didn't trust her one iota to not come for him for pretty much any reason at all she might conjure.
He set down his half-eaten breakfast and drew a deep breath, wariness etched into his posture as he went to the door and pushed it open.
The cause of the official knock turned out to be a short, weirdly-put-together young man. Half a second later Rory placed him: it was, of all the people, Peter Launceleyn. This did nothing to soothe Rory's mounting anxiety.
"Uh, good morning," he said, feeling totally under-prepared for having the Queen's relation on his doorstep this early in the morning. "How can I help you?"
Outside, Vaya, the smaller and more guard-y of his dogs, gave her typical stranger-danger bark from the goat pen. She stood below the fencing, her brown eyes hard and cold as she stared at the stranger on his porch.
The disturbance was followed shortly by a knock at his door, and Rory, who had been thinking it was probably just another fox, felt himself go cold.
Normally, he wouldn't have.
But these times were different. This day and age was different. Zariah was arresting people left and right and for what reasons? She had spoken favorably enough of him at the audience but he didn't trust her one iota to not come for him for pretty much any reason at all she might conjure.
He set down his half-eaten breakfast and drew a deep breath, wariness etched into his posture as he went to the door and pushed it open.
The cause of the official knock turned out to be a short, weirdly-put-together young man. Half a second later Rory placed him: it was, of all the people, Peter Launceleyn. This did nothing to soothe Rory's mounting anxiety.
"Uh, good morning," he said, feeling totally under-prepared for having the Queen's relation on his doorstep this early in the morning. "How can I help you?"
