"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

Days had passed since my meeting with that dark man. Surely, it was all my fault, as I never went to that forest again, and when I went, he never showed up again. It was like waiting for a lady, without any sort of communication or something to talk about. Anyway, I wanted so much to meet Ezron and query him about the statements that man made. It would really be so bad of him to ever do that to me when all along I saw him as a colleague who had chosen to leave all his issues and follow me. How stupid of me, to think he was a friend. 


“What is his name again?” Amir asked. We were on the way heading to that hotel. I really wanted to be alone when talking to Ezron, but if Amir becomes adamant, I shall find a way, even in the form of a letter, to ask Ezron for the answers I desired. 


WILLOCK 50