“Yo… You?” “Philippa’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around the folds of her gown, the words barely a whisper. “By the saints… You’re Lord Valerius III?” Lady Philippa blood ran cold. Leaning back in the high-backed lord’s chair, fingers steepled, was Arthur. A slow, proud smile spread across his face. Seeing Arthur's proud smile, Lady Philippa shifted her eyes back to the floor, heat flooding her cheeks. Her mind raining insults on the Peckham.. Craven dogs, Peckham. The chair Arthur was sitting suddenly creaked as he stood. He didn’t stand at her front directly. Instead, he slowly walk around her. Being this close to Arthur only made Philippa's body heat up the more as she held the hem of her dress tightly. “How ironic, Lady Philippa" Arthur's voice was a low, smooth murmur that seemed to send shiver throughout her skin. “The young man you wanted so badly to light your pipe and bow to you… turns out to be your new Master.” He paused, and Lady Philippa heard the so

Seeing the wretched state of Elara, and how her hands clasped to her cheeks, Arthur gave a smirk. If it was in the past that anyone dared to slap Elara, Arthur would have never spared them. How ironic that the lady he once adore and worship is the same lady he had so much disgust for.. Arthur not wanting to have anything to do with the unfaithful woman, pressed his right hand on Philippa shoulder and said, “Come on let's go.” Turning to Elara, he said, "Stop bothering me! I am no longer your man." Elara’s face turn paled at his words. She lowered her hand from her cheek and stomped her foot in a fit of pique. "Even if I no longer want a hound I've sheltered for five years, I would never give it away so casually!" she said, her chin suddenly high. "Arthur Blackwood, I command you to quit this guild at once and cease your service to Lady Philippa." Arthur nearly laughed aloud. He turned and sneered at Elara,. "How utterly fascinating that you now come running after me. The tables

Elara slammed her clay tankard onto the rough table, the contents isnide sloshing over the side. “Drink! By the gods, drink with me!” Beside her, Agatha, the tavern keeper’s daughter watch with amused eyes. She was the reason Elara sometimes spent so many evenings here. Agatha deftly take the tankard from Elara’s unsteady hand. “Easy now, my lady..." “No! Let me drink. That that high-born wench, Lady Philippa slapped me! I didn't do anything but speak plainly of my useless husband who is now working for her..." Agatha leaned closer, “So? Have you forgotten the old saying? ‘Look to the master before you strike the hound.’ Arthur is her worker now, of course she will defend him." Elara snatched the tankard back and drank it, a trickle of the drink tracing one side of her neck. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Arthur is a heartless knave. So what if i was caught with another man? What high-born lady hasn’t? Gods, Agatha, you’ve taken two lovers outside your vows!”

"Kneel, you worthless dog!" The old Lady’s voice was sharp like a knife as she walk towards her chair. She gripped her chair, her face twisted with rage. Arthur ignore her as he stood still. A small smile touched his lips. He had put up with her and her family meanness for five years. He had endured her insults, and the way she looked at him as if he was dirt. Not anymore. The air in the room now was thick with anger. "You've forgotten your place, Arthur. My grandmother say you should knee!" Godric yelled. Seeing Arthur not willing to knee, the old Lady stood, a tall figure in her dark robes. "You dare? You, who I brought into this home? I raised a loyal dog from a pup, but you? You hit my grandson and stole from me!" "I stole nothing from you," Arthur said. "Lies!" She held up a wrapped wooden box with a on it. "This was in my locked box! How did it get to Sir Rolf?" Rolf, stepped forward. "Aye, lad. You came to me and gave me this Dragon's Eye Amulet for money. Said you w

Godric woke with a groan. The bed was cold where Mabel had been. He sat up, his head aching, and pulled on his robe. He crossed the room, poured a cup of water, and gulped it down to wash away the sour taste of ale. At the window, he threw open the shutters, and morning light spilled in. The streets below were already a bustling mess of merchants, carts, and shouting hawkers. Godric leaned on the sill, with the thoughts of last night flashing in his mind...Meanwhile, the heavy door of the council chamber of the Silver Hand Guild thudded shut, as Arthur walked inside of the room which was filled with the scent of polished wood and old parchment. He took his seat at the head of the table, the carved griffins on his chair’s high back seeming to watch the members in the room. Lady Philippa smoothed her skirts, the rustle of fine silk as she composed herself. Across the table, Lady Cecilia watched Philippa’s little act with a look that could break glass, her fingers tightening ar