the winter sunlight streamed in through the gaps your lady’s opulent curtains, shining its light on the sheets as she lay asleep, thoroughly exhausted from wrangling her daughters after a late night hunt.

you set the tray of morning tea down upon her dressing table and opened the curtains fully, squinting at the snowy ground below. out beyond the fog, you could see the village, awake and fearful below.

but here in your fair lady’s chambers, none of them mattered- not at all.