This chamber is a little wedge-shaped room, completely unremarkable but very clean. It’s small, with room for a bed and a little table and a wardrobe, but not much else. There is a narrow window of thick, slightly warped glass in the curving outer wall with a pleasant view of the castle pastures: rolling green, with a glimpse of the lake and waterfall beyond.
Several herb-packets and bottles share space on the top shelf of the wardrobe with a pair of unusual gloves, and a rather battered leather satchel hangs over the back of the chair.
There are three urgent knocks on the door followed quickly by the same.
Lanisen calls, “Come in?” He’s already starting to get to his feet from where he’s been sitting on his bed.
Megren opens the door. “It’s Sir Colin. Something’s happened. I’m not sure what.” She taps the side of her leg with the inside of her fist and adds to prepare him, “I think he’ll be all right but he doesn’t look pretty.”