Garry slept in the dungeon that night, hoping that the warden would pass on his message to the former lord of Branchwood.
He had only a handful of connections with some higher-ups, but the one that could help him this time was Kegan because he was at the top of his list.
My father had been a loyal dog to the former lord for a very long time now. And from what I gathered, it was Sir Kegan who helped Father get a spot in the council when he was still a lord.
If only I had played my cards right too. He thought.
He clenched his hand into a fist, jaw gritted tight in concentration. He unclenched his hands. "Maybe if I had done a few more dirty works for Sir Kegan, I would have been guaranteed that I would get his support."
I can't be buried for a crime as petty as this. Why would I want my father dead without a cause? Foolish Councilmen.
He sighed. Cracking his neck, he rested his back to the dungeon wall, allowing the coldness and roughness of it to bite into his skin.
