"Good day, Lord Leech!"
Lacy Sith swung himself off his horse and bowed to Leech.
"Good day," Leech nodded. "It's been a while."
"Yes, it's been a month," Lacy Sith nodded.
He looked at the black-haired lord before him, a man younger than himself. He had once followed Philip "Midnight Sun" Cavendish into the war for Pebble Castle, hoping to build a legacy.
But in the end, he was captured and nearly turned into a puppet. It was Baron Porcupine who had saved him.
Later, he had hoped to win glory in the tournament, but he never expected to face Baron Porcupine. The moment they crossed swords, he knew he was no match.
Compared to the blindingly brilliant Philip, this country baron was someone Lacy Sith admired far more.
Besides, tales of his deeds had long ago eclipsed those of the Midnight Sun.
Leech felt a little uncomfortable under Lacy Sith's stare.
'Why is he just staring at me after we said hello? Don't tell me Lacy Sith is like the Second Prince, Little George.'
