JDH!ay

It was a clear morning; the rays of dawn, breaking through the prism of people at the market, graced the boy's snow-white face, making him squint with annoyance. As always, there was noise; people were selling everything they had managed to acquire, just to leave the place as quickly as possible. "I heard that John Davy Harris himself is supposed to visit today..." one girl whispered to another, both glancing around to avoid prying ears. "As far as I know, he's coming here for some boy," a saleswoman added, and they gasped in excitement. Lololoshka shrugged, casting a clearly uninterested gaze back into the crowd, intending to leave the suffocating press of the bazaar. His feet stepped confidently, though he limped slightly from the weight of recent work. "Hey, you, peasant," a approaching knight grumbled irritably, and the commoner froze. "Me?" Lololoshka asked, turning toward the nobleman. "Well of course you, you blockhead," the man rolled his eyes, twisting the boy's arms behind his back. "King John Davy Harris wants to see you, you piece of trash," a second figure in armor confirmed. The boy closed his eyes, allowing himself to be led to the horses and, while bound, taken to the palace. "My lord, we have brought him," both knights bowed, throwing the peasant to his knees before the king. "Excellent, you are dismissed," the man on the throne commanded. Lololoshka hesitantly opened his eyes, his frightened gaze fixed on his king. The commoner bit his lip, feeling a searing pain in his leg; a line of blood ran down his chin. "How old are you, boy?" the presumed Harris asked, ensuring no one was nearby, his piercing gaze fixed on the face of his subordinate. "Sixteen, your highness..." Lololoshka answered with a heavy sigh, trying not to betray his pain. The king slowly approached, his deft hands in black gloves lifting the peasant's chin, forcing his blue eyes to look at John. "What happened to your leg?" the king asked, leaning in to bring his face close to the small subordinate kneeling before him. The boy remained silent, knowing it was not permitted to speak.

It was a clear morning, the rays of dawn breaking through the prism of people in the market, bestowed upon the boy's snow-white face, forcing him to squint discontentedly. As always, there was a noise, people selling everything they had managed to acquire, just to get away from here as quickly as possible. "I heard that John Davy Harris himself is supposed to come here today..." one girl whispered to another, they looked around to avoid prying ears. "As far as I know, he's coming here for some boy," the saleswoman added, and they gasped excitedly. Lololoshka shrugged, averting his clearly disinterested gaze back into the crowd, getting ready to leave the market crush. His legs walked confidently, limping slightly from the weight of his recent work. "Hey, you, peasant," an approaching knight grumbled involuntarily, and the commoner froze. "Are you talking to me?" Lololoshka asked again, turning to the noble. "Of course you, blockhead," the man rolled his eyes, twisting the boy's arms behind his back. "King John Davy Harris wants to see you, cheapskate," the second person in armor confirmed. The boy closed his eyes, allowed himself to be led to the horses, and, tied up, into the palace. "Sir, we have brought him," both knights bowed, throwing the peasant to his knees before the king. "Excellent, you may be free," the man on the throne commanded. Lololoshka hesitantly opened his eyes, his frightened gaze fixed on his king. The commoner bit his lip, feeling a burning pain in his leg, a line of blood running down his chin. "How old are you, boy?" Making sure no one was nearby, the supposed Harris asked, his piercing gaze fixed on his subordinate's face. "Sixteen, your grace..." the lololoshka replied with a heavy sigh, trying not to show his pain. The king slowly approached, his deft hands in black gloves lifting the peasant's chin, forcing his blue eyes to look at Jon. "What's wrong with your leg?" the king asked, bending down to come face to face with the small subordinate kneeling before him. The boy remained silent, knowing it was not proper.