14

Steward Fig is in a small office next to the smokehouse and larder this morning. The outbuildings are completely dwarfed by their neighbors, the fortress walls. As you pass by the structures, you catch a whiff of the delectable scents therein. After spending your childhood holding your breath for safety near most of the processing buildings on your parents' land, it's quite pleasant to just be able to keep your nose open and enjoy the experience.

"You're late," Fig says with a frosty look as you enter his chambers.

"I was just giving the maid some direction," you apologize.

"I should also say I'm a bit surprised you brought your young ward, here." The rotund Steward clears his throat at Brute. "It was not in His Majesty's presence last night, or I should have heard of it. Do you intend to bring it everywhere you go?"