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Clouds had taken over most of the sky and wrestled with the sun, but it was still warm enough to be out in the castle gardens. Servants and maidens, each talking and hurrying to their next task preening flowers and trimming bushes, hurried for tonight's preparations.

"You look very well traveled, Tomsburry." Lady Ophilia said with a smile. The short, young black-and-white furred rabbit queen crossed her legs, her eccentric green dress lightly sparkling like stars as she did so. Across from the food-covered brunch table sat Willem Tomsburry, a tall and aging irish wolfhound. He looked down at his red-and-white tunic and pants and failed to realize that they were caked with mud, no doubt a byproduct of the journey here with Rolf. His sword's scabbard was chipped in places.

"House Egrid still adorns it's warriors in the finest garbs. Very good." Another condescending smile, though she spoke the compliment with confidence. It had been some time since Willem was in the company of proper Royalty and it had slipped his mind how easy it was for kings and queens to mask their snark under a practiced and disciplined smile.

Though he hesitated to at first, Willem mumbled out, "Thank you, my lady." in his low, gruff voice; doing his best to appear courteous. The fur on the irish wolfhound's muzzle was beginning to grey and had whitened fully in some areas. His sword was getting harder and harder to carry each day. The old dog's age was as apparent as his half-chewed ears and kinked tail. A ways from them, Rolf the husky with fur white as snow and clad only in a pair of leather shorts, had his lanky frame and muzzle buried into the garden's massive fountain with only his wagging tail sticking from it. Surrounding him were panicked servants, each stepping around and tugging on Rolf's patchy, burnt-tattooed fur in a feeble attempt to stop his quaffing. Behind it all was the gargantuan Castle Minas.

As politely as he could, Willem said, "I realize my appearance is a bit wild, but I assure you I'm still-"

"Your friend is of the Wulffnyr clan in the north, yes?" Ophilia interrupted. She leaned her back against the steel chair, crossing her legs in the other direction. She spoke perfunctory and seemed more interested in adjusting her loppy ears to fit within her crown. "That would explain his unique demeanor." Another damned smile. Willem returned one with his own, trying to be as genuine as he could. His paw was gripping his tankard hard as stone as he forced himself to speak.

"Rolf is a capable warrior and I require his youthful strength. Though a bit uncouth, he is still quite noble and handles himself like an artist in combat. I could have not made it here this quickly without his help." Willem grunted. He opened his muzzle to continue speaking, but Lady Ophilia immediately interjected.

"I suppose you're wondering why I've summoned you here." She said. Willem cleared his throat.

"Well, I was beginning to-"

"There is a thief in my castle." She stated. "Princess Amelie's tiara was stolen from her quarters earlier as the servants cleaned it. She is in a state of dire straits and require its recovery immediately, preferably before tonight's function."

Willem rubbed a paw over one of his chew-marked ears, then to the back of his head. He took some time to choose his next words. "..Lady Amelie has other tiaras in her possession to wear, does she not?"

"If anyone at tonight's soiree sees one of my servants stealing from my own castle.." Ophilia gasped lightly while looking over her paw's nails. "I suspect the thieves will attempt to smuggle it out from the castle docks tonight. Due to your.. prior occupation, you and your companion shall guard the docks until the sun rises. If the thieves are indeed there, question them if there are more. Then kill them." Before Willem could either accept or deny the request, Ophilia stood and brushed her already clean dress off. She flicked her puff-ball shaped tail as she turned her back to the old irish wolfhound. Her movement was cultured and proper, but not out of respect for anything around her.

"I have ensured a moderate sum of silver for you upon the tiara's recovery. House Egrid mercenaries are still motivated by money, yes?" She spoke while servants began to swarm her with papers and requests for tonight's soiree.

Willem stood as well and mustered some words, "What of your personal guard? As honored as I am to take this request, could they not simply watch the docks-"

"They will be staying by my side at tonight's party. I will not have my few appointed knights run amok chasing filthy peasants; the guests will think me paranoid and crude. House Minas' reputation is pristine and I will not tarnish it."

She snapped her digits at a servant and pointed at the brunch table, "Throw this out after he has left. No sense in keeping spoiled food." She added.

Quickly, Ophilia turned around and shot Willem a stern look. "And watch your questions, dog. You are in the presence of a Queen. Do you accept or deny my request, Tomsburry?" She spoke as a commander giving a soldier an order. Willem ground his teeth together a bit. Standing with his back straight and a paw on his sword handle he drew in a breath to speak, though Ophilia had answered for him. Still, he tried.

"I cannot kill-"

"Good. Come see me once the festivities have ended, Tomsburry." She said before turning and walking away, servants surrounding her. She was already making her way back toward the castle, leaving Willem at the brunch table. End to end, it was filled with uneaten food; Willem had definitely filled his belly while he feigned pleasantries with the queen, but Ophilia barely touched anything. For a royal who allegedly threw so many lavish parties, she did not seem to partake much in the incredible spread of food.

Suddenly, a wirey, underfed-looking paw grabbed a haunch of meat in front of Willem. Rolf chewed loudly, turning to look at Ophilia with his bright gold eyes. On his back, his pair of northern-made axes covered in strange runes clinked together and his tail wagged like a puppy with a toy. He scratched his nose as he ate, rubbing the long horizontal scar across it.

"Pretty one she is, eh?" He said in his thick nothern accent. As he moved, the husky's dreadlocked hair swayed with him. "Too posh for me. So wot're we 'ere for then, boss? Bandit killin's? Local Lord murderin' common folk again?"

"We're catching thieves, apparently." Willem said. He yearned to reach out and eat more but felt like a discarded pair of boots. He had heard tales of Lady Ophilia's arrogance as a younger, newer generation of royal but he did not expect her to be so condescending up close.

"Thieves!" Rolf said with a muzzle full of bread. He gave out a hearty laugh at the word and the prospect of combat, spitting out a bit of stuff. "'aven't gone after thieves since Straadland. So 'ow are we gonna catch a thieves, boss?"

Willem scratched his head and reflected. The silver from this job might carry them all the way back home to Castle Egrid. Even with Lady Ophilia acting as she was, she was still a royal and had to be respected as such. Willem rubbed his temples and groaned, collecting some strength for an answer to Rolf's question.

-

Like a bright star in a solitary sky, the moon shone brightly off of the lake surrounding Castle Minas. All around came the soft sounds of crickets chirping, the wind easing through the trees and grass. Water softly splashed against the beach. Laterns were adorned all along the water, mildly illuminating the stonework and casting shadows around. Willem and Rolf had sat near the pier for hours. Crouching low against a parapet, Rolf spat on the ground and snorted.

"'ungry again, I is." He grumbled while giving his tummy a rub. "Yers think Oaf-feel-ee-ya would be nice enough to give us more food after this job?" He added.

"I see something." Willem grunted. From the pier, the irish wolfhound spotted a group of obscure figures moving about. Despite the dimly lit scene, Rolf sniffed past the parapet a bit and growled, "One of 'em got a scent about 'em guilty as sin, 'e does." He licked his chops and pulled his axes from his back, but then paused and sniffed more. "..Strange.. They all got that scent, boss."

"Let's think of a plan." Willem said drawing his sword quietly. Beyond, one of the figures looked as if it was hurriedly getting a boat with a single sail ready to launch.

"Remember what we spoke of; no killing." The old irish wolfhound snapped and turned his head. Rolf was gone. Peeping from beyond the parapet, Rolf was already halfway down the pier's stairs and was making way toward the thieves giggling like an idiot. Willem banged his forehead against the stone of the parapet, and then after much regret, stood and followed Rolf. After this was over, he resolved to headbutt the husky as he did the stone.

-

"Yers didn't even run! Awful thieves, youze are! Can't even let us 'ave a bit of fun." Rolf said holding his axes imposingly above his head. Before him, the figures cowered and raised their paws up innocently, stuck on the dock between the water and the husky.

Up close, Willem heard the culprits did not sound like thieves at all. Each of them were covered in dirty looking peasant robes and hoods. One of the them, the largest, was clad in House Minas servant robes.

"Please.." The big one said shakily, stepping forward. His legs buckled as he did, as if he was approaching an executioner. Judging from his tail, Willem guessed it was another rabbit. Throwing his hood off and revealing his brown-furred face, he said, "W-We've barely any food and we're desperate!" He protested and clutched onto a leather bag. The tiara, Willem thought. The rest of the figures were huddled together and shivered. "W-We need to eat, too!"

"..Desperate?" Willem said, coming forth from the darkness. He held his sword low but kept it drawn. One could never be too careful these days.

"Who would be desperate enough to steal a tiara from their own Queen's Princess? That sounds something only a fool chasing to get his head in the stocks would do."

The rabbit across from him gulped, his ears drooping.

"Only an old fool who wishes to feed his family.. I stole it, yes, but my family needs silver to eat." He said quietly. He and Willem locked eyes a moment. This was not a man who had enjoyed taking what wasn't his. Worry was written across his face clear as a spring morning. "Lady Ophilia has increased her taxes four times in the past few months, and each party she has her guards stay close to the food so we cannot take any back.. We starve while she throws lavish banquets and tournaments! Even some of us servants in the castle cannot afford to eat properly! Our rations are meager and there's never enough to feed all of us.."

One of the smallest, tiniest of the rabbit family came forth. Her voice was innocent and sweet and she looked up at Willem with a pair of bright, eager eyes.

"We are very hungry.. My pa says silver can buy us food!" She said, sounding genuinely happy at the idea. "Pa grabbed other things from the castle, too! Candles and cups and bright-looking forks and spoons.. Maybe we can sell enough and have our own banquet!" Willem slumped. The child looked underfed but she spoke as if she believed her words true. "M-Maybe we can give them something to not say anything to Queen Ophilia..?"

"Shh.." The father said, stepping back and picking up the little girl. "That's enough, Penelope."

Willem's half-chewed ears twitched and shivers went down the old irish wolfhound's spine. Way down something had exploded inside of him, like a piece of himself or something he knew re-attaching to his very essence; a fresher, younger part of himself before age had chipped away at his optimism. He paced a bit, sheathing his sword and rubbing his paws against his muzzle roughly. His head was spinning and he wanted to sleep but he would not be able to rest with this new knowledge to haunt his dreams.

He felt Rolf's paw on his shoulder.

"This is not like Straadland." The husky said lowly, "..Wonder 'ow much food is at that party of 'ers?" Willem's knuckles whitened around his sword and he nodded toward Rolf. The old irish wolfhound bared his fangs and growled low, pacing about. He heard the family still fawning before the warriors; Five of them in total, a mother, father and three children. Finally after running the possible scenarios through his tired head, Willem approached the brown-furred father and asked him sternly, "How many are affected by these taxes?"

-

Kicking down the door of Castle Minas' throne room, Willem approached with Rolf at his side. Inside was a massive chandelier that had illuminated the room as good as the sun. All around the place was smooth and looked of marble. Tapestries and crests hung from the wall, windows as large as a church's would be surrounding everything. In the center of it all was a long table filled to the brim with food. Party-goers, each donned in eye-dazzlingly white clothes and formal knightly attire of other colors and Houses gasped, gawked and separated themselves as the pair walked through their mingling. Both walked along the fine deep-red carpet directly up to the throne. Willem scanned the room for Princess Amelie but she was nowhere to be seen.

Behind them, a company of a dozen families of varying species and walks of life poured in through the throne room doors. Raccoon sculptors and potters, bovine blacksmiths and laborers and feline fishermen. Lady Ophilia sat in her throne with her legs crossed just as earlier today. Slowly she put down a hand-mirror to a table on her side. Minas royal guard approached the peasants but the common folk easily outnumbered them and the party-goers combined. It was almost a tiny army of peasants. Up at the throne, Willem casually threw Princess Amelie's bright blue jewel-encrusted tiara down at the base steps of the throne and snorted.

Raising one of her eyebrows, Ophilia said, "Explain yourself, Tomsburry." Each of her royal guard held their spears toward the crowd. They were well equipped, but lacked the numbers of the peasants, who all clutched farming tools as makeshift weapons.

"You did not mention that your peasants starve." Willem barked out. His paw gripped his sword handle tight as the steel it was made of. Stifled, Ophilia opened her muzzle but Willem interjected harshly, "I suspected something was amock when you barely touched anything at brunch. A proper Queen would not starve her people, Ophilia."

Eons of silence passed. Each of the banquet members looked between Ophilia and the peasant crowd as if a war was about to ensue right then and there.

"..Dammit." Ophilia finally said as if she had been beaten in chess. "I must uphold House Minas' reputation as a mingling aristocracy. If some of the common folk must suffer for a short period while I make deals and rub shoulders with other Houses to ensure Minas' strength in the future, then it is a price I willingly pay. That does not give them the right to steal from me."

"Your people steal from you to feed themselves while you cover tables with food uneaten and untouched, eager to show off to other Houses as if your intentions are pure!" Willem shouted and held his paw out towards the massively long table of cheese, meat, wine, grapes, bread. Despite the ample amount of party goers, almost nothing had a bite taken out of it. "This very party is financed and fed with the raised taxes from these poor folk and the food farmed in their fields, is it not? Even your personal servants are not eating properly." He asked, gazing around. The rest of the banquet's guests were looking up at Ophilia as if she smelled of vinegar. Shocked gasps and concerning mumbles came from everywhere.

Her eyes were wide and raging like wildfire. Willem returned the glare directly, his back standing up straight as a tall tree.

"I'll have you executed for this, Tomsburry." she said, throwing back a hefty goblet of wine into her muzzle. "Or perhaps flayed-"

Once more Willem interrupted her with glee, "The commoners of your House will take what they wish from this banquet. If any of your guards places a single paw on any of them, they will have Rolf to answer to." Beside him, Rolf snarled in a toothy grin and nodded in agreement. He held his axes by the ends of their handles as a painter holds their brushes.

"Yers can try." The husky said with a chuckle, "And I kinda want yers to."

"W-We'll help too!" A scrawny but determined voice from the peasant crowd said.

"Yeah! Us too! Give us some food!"

"There's more of us than them! Can't we just take it?" More and more voices from the peasants joined Willem's. More and more, the common folk united. Ophilia's guards were gradually backing up to the throne. Their Queen suddenly looked ten years older than she was.

"It is good to see House Minas still holds respect and honor above all else, same as the other Houses." Willem said, raising the corner of his muzzle in a little smirk and shooting a glare at the rabbit Queen. "Would you not agree, Ophilia?"

Each of the Minas guard looked at each other warily, as if waiting for one or another to shout an instruction. Lady Ophilia's little paws clutched into tight little bundles. She sat like an upset spoiled child on the throne, eventually resolving to simply sit back and keep her hating gaze on Willem while the peasants slowly filled sacks with food. None of the party goers stepped forth or interfered. It was all out in the open now and word of Queen Ophilia's doings would reach the other Houses in less than a day's time.

Even if the pair would no longer be welcome near House Minas, like a knight facing down a tyrant Willem's gaze did not leave Ophilia's until each peasant had an ample sack of food.