the Tale of Sir Isaac



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 … “

Dressed in his undergarments as he attempted to find the remainder of his clothing, Isaac whirled to face the small child hovering in the doorway, and he regarded him with pity. “I’m mostly done, child, but thank you all the same.” He flashed him a polite smile and then frowned. “But if you could help me find my clothing, that would be much appreciated?”

Silently, the boy pointed to a shirt draped over the firetools, then knelt to reach under a chair. He reappeared with Isaac’s breeches and an expression that suggested he thought Isaac was a bit slow.

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