4,300 words in two hours across two sessions today, to 80,000 words on the manuscript. A little distracted due to cancer news, but writing eases my mind. It’s like meditation. Or fulfillment.
A number of my countrymen slept on the floor – more than I’d seen last night. Either the Dancing Mistress’ delegation had returned, or some of those upstairs had come back down. I’d have woken up to any raucous party, though.
The door was barred when I checked it. Interesting. To the best of my knowledge, the Tavernkeep didn’t really keep closing hours. At least he had not done so in the past.
I slipped the bar and looked outside. My breath steamed in the air. Several inches of snow blanketed the ground, the last of yesterday evening’s tracks filled in to soft hollows. The sky above was crystal sharp, stars glinting like knifepoints through velvet. No one watched. The whole city might have been asleep.
Perfect. Morning would find me making trouble in a very public way.