The sun hung low over Rossfield as Titus prepared for his journey. The young lord, whose life had been one of luxury and privilege, now found himself in unfamiliar territory—pursuing a group of runaway servants who had defied his authority. His pride burned with indignation, fueling his determination to see them punished.
Titus strode into the security office, the smell of ink and leather filling the air. The commander of the Vanguards, a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek, greeted him with skepticism.
“You want to borrow five of my men to chase a handful of runaways?” the commander asked, leaning back in his chair. “This isn’t a charity, young lord. My men are busy keeping the city safe.”
Titus slammed a heavy pouch of coins onto the desk. The metallic clink drew the commander’s attention.
“Name your price,” Titus said firmly. “I’ll not have my name tarnished by these insolent dogs.”
The commander smirked, eyeing the pouch before opening it to inspect its contents. “Five men,” he said finally, “but it’ll cost you every coin in this bag. And they’ll only accompany you to Melvic City. After that, you’re on your own.”
Titus hesitated, but his anger outweighed his reluctance. He nodded. “Deal.”
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The journey began at dawn. Flanked by the five vanguards, Titus departed Rossfield on horseback, his once-pristine riding boots quickly caked in mud. The harsh terrain and scorching sun were a far cry from the opulence of his estate, but he pressed on.
At the end of the first day, the group encountered a pair of riders heading east. Titus intercepted them, his voice sharp. “Have you seen a group of five men on horseback?”
The older rider squinted. “Saw a group heading west three days ago. Looked like they were in a hurry.”
“West,” Titus muttered, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “Thank you.” He handed the riders a small coin for their trouble before urging his horse forward.
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The catalogues of his servants occupied his thoughts during the journey. One night, seated by a meager fire, Titus pored over the records he had taken from his estate. The flickering light illuminated the name he sought: Tom. His finger traced the entry, stopping at the mention of a cousin residing in Melvic City.
“Melvic,” he whispered, the pieces falling into place.
The next day, he drove his group harder, ignoring the vanguards’ complaints about the grueling pace. Despite his pampered upbringing, Titus endured the fatigue, driven by sheer spite and a desire to restore his authority.
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Upon reaching Melvic City, Titus wasted no time. He sought out the Servant Committee, a governing body overseeing the laborers in the area. The building was modest, bustling with activity as clerks sifted through papers and workers pleaded their cases.
“I need information on a man named Tom,” Titus demanded at the front desk, flashing his family crest.
The clerk frowned but complied, rifling through a stack of files. “Tom... yes, he has a cousin here in Melvic. Avarora. She works at the Wellington estate.”
Titus’s lips curled into a triumphant smile. “The Wellington estate?”
The clerk nodded.
Titus chuckled. Fate seemed to favor him. The Wellington estate was owned by Major General Fred Wellington, his future father-in-law. “Good,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence.
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The final leg of the journey was grueling. The rocky roads leading to the estate tested Titus’s resolve, and the vanguards’ patience wore thin. But Titus pushed forward, his mind fixated on his goal.
As the grand gates of the Wellington estate loomed in the distance, he felt a surge of satisfaction. He had tracked the runaways to the very doorstep of his future in-laws.
“Luck,” he mused, “is finally on my side.”
Dismounting at the entrance, Titus instructed the vanguards to hold their positions, not wanting to alert the estate’s guards prematurely. He straightened his coat, adjusted his belt, and strode forward with the confidence of a man who believed the world bent to his will.
He was ready to confront the criminals who had dared defy him, unaware that their presence would set off a chain of events far beyond his control.