Zannrick gave a rigid nod, and though his face looked tired, his eyes did not. He kept them ever sharp, and gestured towards the room. "He still hasn't slept. I suppose we should inquire if he is ready for the day." And he moved to do so himself, knocking on the edge of the door before inquiring, "Duke Calent, the morning is here. Would you like us to escort you to your room?"
The duke had been tracing his fingers over the keys of his piano, playing a silent song within his head, but did not let his fingers press into the keys to make noise. So at first, he did not respond to Zannrick, simply played on silently until the last note was played. Then slowly he riased his head, peering over tiredly towards Zannrick before nodding.
"Then we shall escort you," the mordecai replied with a bow. He only cast one knowing gaze towards Emery before the pair of them followed Calent to his room. They were now stationed outside as his servants moved to help, and it was here Zanrick found himself sighing out of frustration.
"By Angsar's beard, this day will be long."
The night's worries were over, it was time for the pair of them to prepare for the day's festivities. Another pair of mordecai had approached,a nd Zannrick grit his teeth.Hed rather remain on a second shift here than accompany the duke. But his loyalties lay with Calent, and he would oblige.
Nodding, he informed the new watchmen of their duties, befre turning away sharply and gesturing with a simple look to Emery for her to follow. The two would need baths and sharp clothing if they were to accompany Calent for the entertainment tonight.
Blaith Harmond... ugh. More duke's. More time for political banter. At least it seemed this Blaith Harmond was amicable enough.
"Come, our bathing unit is just below." As if Emery's would need reminded they would share the same bath house. Mordecai were mordecai after all, and a soldier a soldier. Male and female partitions meant nothing to them, so after the pair would descend into the basement, and he, stepping into the dimly lit room of the bath house, he began to peel off his clothing without much thought, tossing them into a careless heap about the floor. There would only be so much time before the nosy servants would appear to take measurements and to fuss over their clothing, and Zannrick didn't waste a moment before slipping in the waters with a long sigh.
His muscles were as tense as he was, and the water worked as relief enough.