"How now, Sir!" came the sharp voice from the corridor. "About the morning's loafing already? 'Tis early begun today."<br/><br/>Sir Kay strode briskly into the hall, brushing flour from his hands. His day had started with an eagle-eyed and sharp-tongued inspection of Camelot's kitchens. Despite the only moderate warmth of the hour, Kay's tunic and undershirt were both sleeveless; the constant and unusual heat of his own body made heavier wear uncomfortable in spring, unbearable in summer.<br/><br/>"And feet off the Table, by Jesu! Haven't the charwomen cares enough to keep the Hall fit to receive visitors?" He sighed, mentally noting the state of the seat cushions, the arras, the braziers - as seneschal, there wasn't one aspect of the castle's physical condition that escaped him. "Marry, I thought to have seen you swanning about the rose garden but a quarter hour past."