The crowd around you was whispering, and your knees ached. The king had been going on and on about your courage and nobility of spirit, how you deserved a reward. You were just helping but Noone seemed to want to let you speak. "Owen, you can't give this vagabond a Titel!" the future queen hissed, you were close enough to hear. The kings face darkens. "You deserve all this and more, for your kindness."
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