Another mundane day, full of mundane people, and mundane words. Ambition was a cruel thing sometimes... He almost longed for his early days in politics, when he had to work himself to the bone to prove his worth to the district he now governed, to the other Lords, to the duchess herself.

With a sigh, he rose from his desk with a glass of wine and meandered to the window, resting his free hand against the sill. The Copper House stood in the heart of his district, and from the windows of his office he could gaze over his pride. His streets were always busy, especially during the more agreeable months. Many of the artisans would send their apprentices to the streets with a booth to show off their goods to people visiting from other cities and lands. It was noisy, bustling, and overwhelming, the perfect cover for the smugglers than mingled in the crowds unnoticed. This was a profitable time of year for everyone, no matter their morals.

It was a nice change from his quiet manor and its quiet graves, though he was ready to return home and sit in his study with a warm fire, a good book, and a better glass of wine.