A noble’s duties are tedious, but today I found solace in the simplest of things—feeding the stray hounds that linger near the outskirts of Morthal. They’re mangy, half-wild things, yet there’s a purity in their eyes that courtiers lack. I suppose if anyone saw me, they’d mock the Lady of Hjaalmarch for scattering scraps like a commoner. Let them. The way their tails wag is worth more than their hollow flattery. (And no, I won’t apologize for slipping them venison from the kitchen. The jarl’s table won’t miss a few bites.)