Einar slept like a log that night, and not even the steady, rumbling snore coming from the other end of the corridor, from his parents’ bedroom, woke him. Even little Athil slept peacefully, as if he knew that everyone in the house was tired after two nights of feasting.
In the morning, as usual, he got up before the others, so, having washed and dressed, he went down to the dining room on his own. On the way, he passed several maids who were already beginning to bustle about the house and tidy up after yet another feast. They all seemed very busy, so the boy decided not to disturb them. As he entered the dining room, he merely hoped that something was already on the table and that he would be able to satisfy his immediate hunger whilst waiting for the rest of the family and a full breakfast.
However, when he crossed the doorway, he was surprised to find someone already seated at the table. Pricking up his ears and humming a lively tune under his breath, Ru’tseh Tahon’veth was eagerly piling appetisers onto his plate, which must have only just been placed on the tabletop.
The knight was not wearing any armour or protective gear of any kind, only a light rust-coloured tunic with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows and loose trousers made of dark canvas. This time, he was not hampered by all that metal, and he let his long tail sway freely to the rhythm of the song he was humming.
Surprisingly, Ceet was not, as Einar had expected, slender and athletic. In terms of build, he was closer to Olaf; he was stocky and powerfully built. Even his fur couldn’t conceal his prominent, well-defined muscles. And yet every movement the knight made was full of feline grace and a certain innate agility.
‘Oh, I see I’m not the only early riser.’ Ceet smiled at Einar as soon as he closed the door behind him. ‘I hope I haven’t broken any rules… Hmm… of hospitality?’ he added, searching for a moment for the
