"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

"Welcome the Duke of Vikings and his family," the official in charge of inviting visitors stated, and everyone aligned to greet us. We were almost the last to arrive; that's embarrassing, but I'm sure they should understand the journey. The thoughts of what happened had already left my youthful brain, and there was nothing I looked forward to more than seeing the princess again. She just clouded my brain, and it was as if everyone was waiting for us, as we were all directed to the staircase where the princess would make her grand entrance. I wonder how splendid she would look, I heard myself state. 


I had slick shaved, just as I had done in Iraq. I hoped she liked me this way; I had a small head, so shaving was not something to affect my appearance. I still looked the same and cute. I feared that if I let my hair grow lengthy, someone would mistake me for a woman, but I made sure I kept my male and masculine nature dominant. 


WILLOCK 61