Jon pinched his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He’d been staring at the parchment so long it began to blur together on the paper. He’d already burnt through three candles tonight.

The library was quiet, a nice place to think as the snow pelted the castle outside. The fire crackled in the hearth, warming the room so much he’d draped his cloak over his chair a while ago. Ghost was laid out by the hearth, sleeping like he was a slave.

“Perhaps it’s time for bed…” He murmured.