No choice (part one)

Time flew by. Before long, it was late December, and snow had already fallen once.

That day, as the early morning sunlight shone down, Romon's manor gradually woke from its slumber.

The servants living in the wooden houses rose first. They lit the fires and busied themselves preparing for their master's rising and breakfast. The guards woke as well and climbed the towers to relieve the night watch.

Romon got up and glanced at Eileen. She was still asleep; since becoming pregnant, she had grown very fond of sleeping.

He rose quietly, washed, and put on a thick, wide-sleeved coat made of goat wool, tall boots, and a belt with a metal buckle. He also draped a cloak over his shoulders.

The cloak was made from trimmed otter, squirrel, sheep, rabbit, mink, beaver, fox, and ermine pelts, and was very warm.

As soon as he reached the dining room, a servant wheeled in a food cart and served breakfast on silver dishes. Breakfast was generally simple, consisting mainly of bread, fried eggs, and smoked meat, accompanied by ale and fruit wine.

After breakfast, a pleasant, busy day began.

He had only just reached the sitting room when someone announced, "My lord, Lord Nick, Lord Vavik, and Mr. Lurun have arrived."

A corridor led from the entrance to the sitting room, where cashmere rugs covered the floor, making it feel especially soft, thick, and warm.

The three men entered and bowed. Romon waved a hand. Rather than taking his place at the desk, he sat on the sofa and said, "No need. Let's discuss matters here on the sofas."

"Yes, my lord Viscount!" All three shared in the honor of Romon's elevation to Viscount.

Normally, if no visitors came in the morning, a lord would summon his servants and steward, assign