As the evening came to a pass, Sigurd made his way to his room. He opened the door, just having enjoyed a warm bath in the bathhouse. In the room, wasn’t much. Only a bed, a desk, a chair, a small table, and cupboards along one side to store clothing. And in front of the bed, sat a chest. The floors were made out of polished wood, though it was cold to walk on in the winter, a large rug made from wool sat to the side of the bed, allowing for extra comfort.
Sigurd yawned, wearing his long tunic gown and pants made from silk. Though it was obvious for a Prince, he did not have much money, he for sure loved to drown himself in expensive silk clothing. Even for sleeping, he refused to wear rough wool and furs, instead opting for more insulation around the walls of his long house.
He pulled back his blanket, thinking of the last time he had seen this bed. He hadn’t had a full nights worth of sleep in two days. It was truly lovely to spend the night in his own bed finally.
He yawned again, thinking of how much his life was about to change. Once he had an heir, he could move back into the palace with his son in claim. If this bastard woman was blonde, then maybe his name would be cleared. Maybe his son would have a solid claim as the son of a bastard. Though, his grandmother would always be a whore, his father would have proved himself worthy to be King.
He sat in his bed, blowing out the candle on the table next to him, leaving the room in complete darkness, besides the somewhat moon light that came from the small window in the corner.
Sigurd smiled to himself, relieved that maybe now, he could take his place as an heir to the throne. His three brothers, and four sisters, shall see that he would be the best at ruling their father’s kingdom, Bergen.
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