Ostveg
A summer breeze blew through pine wood plantation shutters. The country house was large but by no means opulent. The red painted wood siding stood out among the dense grove of trees that stood around the house. The figure seated at the small plain desk sat back in the leather chair. He had lived in the house for almost two years. At 25, he was still in his youth. He swore to himself and tapped his fingers on the desk. He turned his attention back to the problem at hand. For the past two years, in addition to engaging in noble society, he had read voraciously and devoted himself to watchmaking as a hobby. Now, he was restoring a 19th century time piece as a future gift. He was slowly and surgically cleaning the movement when the phone on the desk rang. Not putting the tools down, Theodore stared at the phone and let it ring. He was mildly annoyed. His thoughts drifted to home and where he was now. Two years of balls and galas. Two years of living as a guest. Two years as an outcast. He had been the third Kosara monarch to hold the name 'Theodore', ascending to the throne after the death of his father in a freak gardening accident. Now Theodore found himself dethroned by his own uncle. Fleeing first to Breotonia; Theodore found the Breotish, while nice, vastly unenthusiastic about the prospect of Theodore spending his exile in Lunden. Fortunately, Theodore had met the ambassador of Ostveg in Lunden and the two became something of friends.
Within weeks, Theodore and his small entourage of 4 found themselves in the countryside outside of Kristiania. They attended some balls and were invited to minor events as courtesy. Though young, Theodore knew they were merely a courtesy. Thus, he only attended a handful. He had spent Christmas alone, reading in front of the fireplace.
The phone had stopped ringing and Theodore went back to his hobby, enjoying the air and quiet of the countryside. He did his best to keep his mind away from home.
A summer breeze blew through pine wood plantation shutters. The country house was large but by no means opulent. The red painted wood siding stood out among the dense grove of trees that stood around the house. The figure seated at the small plain desk sat back in the leather chair. He had lived in the house for almost two years. At 25, he was still in his youth. He swore to himself and tapped his fingers on the desk. He turned his attention back to the problem at hand. For the past two years, in addition to engaging in noble society, he had read voraciously and devoted himself to watchmaking as a hobby. Now, he was restoring a 19th century time piece as a future gift. He was slowly and surgically cleaning the movement when the phone on the desk rang. Not putting the tools down, Theodore stared at the phone and let it ring. He was mildly annoyed. His thoughts drifted to home and where he was now. Two years of balls and galas. Two years of living as a guest. Two years as an outcast. He had been the third Kosara monarch to hold the name 'Theodore', ascending to the throne after the death of his father in a freak gardening accident. Now Theodore found himself dethroned by his own uncle. Fleeing first to Breotonia; Theodore found the Breotish, while nice, vastly unenthusiastic about the prospect of Theodore spending his exile in Lunden. Fortunately, Theodore had met the ambassador of Ostveg in Lunden and the two became something of friends.
Within weeks, Theodore and his small entourage of 4 found themselves in the countryside outside of Kristiania. They attended some balls and were invited to minor events as courtesy. Though young, Theodore knew they were merely a courtesy. Thus, he only attended a handful. He had spent Christmas alone, reading in front of the fireplace.
The phone had stopped ringing and Theodore went back to his hobby, enjoying the air and quiet of the countryside. He did his best to keep his mind away from home.