"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

My conversation with Princess Hasmin had taken the better part of me, to the extent that I forgot everything I had in mind and all my anxiety. We spoke of the artistic things in this house, of the party, and how somehow it was draining her energy. She actually ended up telling me that during that day when we met, she was just looking for a way to pass time with me; it was always something she did when bored in apartheid, and no gentleman in the royalties bachelor courtship programs interested her. She added that she came to know my name from Amir. He had told her the whole story—that I was his teenage friend while pursuing his education overseas. We quite spoke a lot when I remembered my conversation with Amir. 


“When do you tend to marry?” I asked, inasmuch as I knew I did not make that statement as well as was expected of me. 


“To marry?” She asked, looking at me with weird eyes, and I knew, yeah, 


WILLOCK 42