Sven ruffled his hair as he strutted through the silent hallways of the castle. His hand was on his hip, thinking of Octavian's words before he left the duke's chancery.
"What a strange father," he mumbled, looking back only to an empty and dimly lit hallway. "Goodness… he keeps asking my hand in marriage. I might think he wants to marry me himself."
He shivered, shaking his head to get that thought out of his mind. Ever since Octavian welcomed him into his home, Sven had so much time to waste. He could write his journal leisurely, but it was boring if all he had to do was to write. He didn't want to forget anything, so he was taking his precious time.
Still, he often finds himself bored with the lack of activity. Sven simply let his feet drag him to wherever it would take him, keeping his focus on his thoughts.
