Third Person
The night air was cold. The new wing was now ready. It took so little time, almost like it had all been planned. As promised, the king did not provide more than he had stated. The wing was built and painted to Rain's liking, but not furnished.
Rain had to shift the bed from the guest room he occupied to sleep in for the moment, but that was all he was allowed to take with him. His new apartment still smelled of fresh paint and scented oils the maids had placed to mask it.
The night wasn't young, but emptiness ate at him from within. He wasn't used to such emptiness, and certainly this would be the longest he would go without Viola.
Rain stood in the courtyard overlooking the backyard garden long after the torches of the patrol guards had burned low. Snow covered the footprints, erasing evidence of the previous day's activity, and slowly, much of the world vanished under its wetness.
