David leaned in over his book, his eyes greedily drinking in the descriptions of the life medieval. The politics made him wish that he could with boldness and wit maneuver through insults and intrigue. Each battle command heroic Lord Arvon issued and every thrust of his blade made David lean in closer, imagining himself possessed of such a confidence and skill as the person through whose eyes he saw the world. As the protagonist excused himself from a treachery-fraught soirée for a moment of solitude, David fell into the book.
Lord Chester Arvon closed the door on a party putatively in his honor, and thus on ceaseless bickering and sniping among those seeking his favor. Opening up a book of accounts, he took out the tome concealed within: a story of high fantasy. He relaxed into the tale of a young man in a magical world of impossible leisure and instant knowledge. The boy's struggles — to find love, to find purpose in a world of leisure, to be more like the heroes of the books he reads — echoed in Chester's own heart.
As the protagonist set down his book to leave for work, Chester fell into the book.