Next morning, before the sun had even risen, Fabian races through the dungeons, the long awaited seal of pardon in his doublet. He'd known the boy was innocent from the start. He always had! He skids to a halt outside a cell, making sure to slow down and keep his movements quiet and soft so as not to frighten the boy as he peers through the bars. He whispers into the darkness, his voice low and gentle "Henry? Henry Rexton?"
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