"Your Lord, if your wish is to amuse me, then retrieve your acts." She interrupted me, and I knew I had done her erroneous. 
"My apologies. I did not know when to ask, speak, talk, or request for your name. My utterances before were out of nervousness, my princess. I don’t know the effects it has had, but I am glad. Glad of your presence, and my presence as stated, as long as our speeches rhyme, am happy. "
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He knew his stand, he knew his label, he knew.., he sure knew. A bastard’ To some it was just a name, an English decent name, but to many, especially those in the highest ranks of the social class, knew, they knew what kind of hefty drift being associated with such a labeled man meant to his whole, they knew. And he,… he.., was born as one, a bastard. A bastard, a bastard was what he came to know his name as,…
Lord Willock,.. a duke’s son but a King’s decent to be precise, lived a life of now, as tomorrow was nothing but a luck. The boy, knew all, he knew love, ooh how would he forget the face of the dazzling girl who made her forget all his worries, right on the ballroom dance floor. How would he forget, how would he forget, he was a bastard, if every conversation seemed to have nothing but the name on it.., However, maybe destiny was meant to be lenient or tough on him, its all his fate to face.
Dearest reader, let’s embark on the journey of Lord Willock, and see what lemons life throws at him, and his coping mechanisms, in times of tragedy, and maybe he was more fated for good fortune than just a label..? A labeled man was meant for ‘death!!!’ A word and statement well known..,

Lord have mercy.

Profound Bound

"You got this" was the big word written on the large front desk where I assumed the person who kept the gold coins or recorded the inn's activities worked. 


"Excuse me, sir," I said, not quite, coming to term or rather hearing my voice but I hope he heard me. And I guess he indeed did, for he raised one of his brows, studying me from head to toe. 


 "Not from around here?" he questioned, and my mind hesitated on whether it was wise to answer or not. 


"I am looking for a man named Armstrong. Do you have any information about him, his whereabouts, or anything?" I asked, awaiting a straightforward response. This seemed to pique his interest as he observed me with more curiosity and attention this time. 


"Who are you?" he demanded in a deep and commanding tone that, if louder, could easily intimidate even a grown adult. 


WILLOCK 23