the Tale of Sir Isaac



He wasn’t allowed to sit alone for longer than it took to think that thought. The seneschal looked briefly appalled at Isaac’s state of dress, then schooled his face. “Milord, we will need your assistance with the wedding plans. I shall send a manservant to assist you in dressing and escort you to the offices, if you please. Also you have an appointment with the tailor at one candlemark past nooning.”

Isaac lifted his head and locked wide eyes on the person addressing him, nodding with obvious reluctance. As excited as he was about the approaching wedding, he was nervous too, and he was relieved that they weren’t being left to organise and orchestrate the entire thing themselves, obviously. “Thank you,” he stated simply with a polite nod, before standing up to search for some clothes, not entirely comfortable with a manservant seeing him like this, even if it was the norm.

The seneschal executed a brief bow and withdrew, leaving the bedroom door open but closing the door to the outer chamber. After a discreet few moments a young boy, hardly more than ten, opened the door cautiously. “Milord? I’m supposed to help you dress … “

Leave a Reply