After an hour of twisting and turning, Achilles snaps at my fingers and I let him out of the window. I decide to go to the kitchen and grab a cup of tea, I add a spell to my feet so Father won’t hear me walking around. It appears to be useless as I round the corner of the kitchen and he is sitting at the table, a cup of steaming tea between his hands. His hair is messy and he is wearing a soft long sleeved shirt and matching trousers.