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Even from your castle, standing atop a hill that overlooks your lively fief, you can see the stretch of the Meringian Sea, beating upon the sugar-white sands, large stretches of wood standing upon them and leading to the bay where dozens of ships float by, hungover sailors marching wearily to their ships as they prepare to continue their voyage. It is <span class="mu-s">Portblanc</span>, <span class="mu-i">your</span> Portblanc, named so for the white sands of the beaches that looked no different from fallen snow.
Yours is a blessed city, flanked on both sides by the rivers Lutan and Marjoisse whose origins stretch far inland and give you access to the very depths of the Imperial lands. Though your Viscounty stretches no further than the islet which you call home, whatever of it not filled by city dedicated to the rather insufficient farming villages and fishing docks that exist to help feed your urban goliath, this holding is enough to make you the very wealthiest of noblemen amidst the Appanáge of Segoma, short only to the Imperial Prince your liege himself.
"It is a beautiful city, no?"
"Of course, meu seynor." he answers, storing the nightwear you had all but left on the floor back into your wardrobe. Having had enough of staring through your window, you make your way out of your room and into the corridors of the castle, stepping at a brisk pace while your servant follows you. "The breakfast is ready to your likings as usual, of course." Already feeling a pinch of hunger, you waste no time in descending to the private diningroom, used when you wish for a private meal not requiring the excesses of the banquet table.
As you take your sit upon the chair, Thibaud goes off his own way, his duties done, as several more servants appear with your first meal of the day, a rather humble platter of goat's cheese, smoked venison and a variety of common breads, accompanied by a flagon of cow's milk, freshly taken from the palace pens. Cow's milk was valued most highly in this region, one of these extremely rare things that commoners and nobles enjoyed alike, and even more so during winter, when it could be easily chilled and took longer to sour.
You eat calmly and alone; your family must have already woken some time ago and gone off to their daily matters.
