Noel's eyes were open but he was unable to stand. He felt so weak and didn't want to stand to prepare for any ball. The other side of the bed was empty.
Noel looked at it for a moment — the indent in the pillow, the slight pull of the blanket where someone had been lying — and then looked at the ceiling.
The ball was today. Of course, it was today.
He was aware of this in the same way you are aware of a storm coming. Not because you could see it yet but because everything in your body had already decided to be tense about it.
He pulled the blanket over his face.
'I would very much like not to do this. I don't want to attend that fucking ball,' he thought.
The door opened.
"Sleeping is not an option, my lord."
Noel pulled the blanket down just far enough to see over the edge.
Joel came in carrying two things — something on a hanger over one arm, and a shallow basin in his other hand, steam curling off the surface of it in the cold morning air.
Noel looked at the basin.
