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She turned the lever and pushed it open, peering into the dimmed lighting of the library.When these parties were held, the guests had run of the entire house, excepting private chambers. However, when a noble desired a room to be less than inviting, and keep the guests from loitering within them overlong, they would intentionally keep the lighting low in them.It was not a particularly large library, and she peered around the long rows of books on their oaken shelves. Lastly, her eyes came to rest upon the form of the young man, his back to her, hunched over one of the writing desks.He was a slim young man with close-cut brown hair. His jacket was military cut, though that meant little, as most men wore military or quasi-military coats these days. Another grin came to her triangular face as she thought of the incongruity of the men wearing tights beneath those jackets, and how it left little to the imaginings of a young woman."Am I disturbing you?" asked Deanara as she stood in the. She almost chuckled as she remembered, but the chuckle faded before it could be voiced. Her hands had been much smaller then and much younger. She remembered some words her mother had once told her, though she didn’t understand them. ‘Time passing is the only thing that is guaranteed in life.’She looked up at her brother for a moment. At thirty-six, he still was a thin, wiry man – but no longer young. There was a hint or two of gray in his mostly black head of hair, now, and his belly was not quite as thin as it once was. There were a few worry lines on his face, centered on his eyes and sides of his mouth. His face wasn’t quite as lean as it once was, though there was now a more stern look than the playful man he’d been just a decade prior.She let her head droop once more as she collected herself. The room was stuffy and musty, with no outside windows and only two thick, wooden doors set opposite each other as the only way in or out of the room. The only light came from smoky.
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