A Fruitful Morning

The light streaming in through the window woke me with a stabbing pain behind my eyes. You would think a place like this would offer better curtains then this. I groaned and rolled over to find the bed blissfully empty and smelling of Flora.

I groaned as more immediate needs began to make themselves present. I stumbled out of the bed, finding the chamber pot in a dazed desperation.

It wasn’t until halfway through my morning piss that I realized someone was sitting in the chair next to my bed. A very robust someone.

As my trickle petered out, comprehension finally dawned on me. It was the patroness? But it couldn’t be. She had darker red hair pulled back into a sever bun. Her cloths were tight, black, and shiny. She had tall, buckled boots on that came clear up past her knees.

“Who are you?” I demanded as firmly as I could muster. “What are you doing in here?” I hissed at her.

She stared me down with the cruelest