"Lord Gervðas, where are you going?"

"You want to come? It seems you wanted it all along. Come inside this palanquin!" on Lord Gervðas's behest, my body moves on its own.

Put it this way. Out of all the times, I have seen Lord Gervðas like this is unimaginable. Yet do I expect not seeing Lord Gervðas beaming his face with glee and excitement. He lost his finger, and yes, I can see that vividly but still he displays an unfazed look. As of right here in this vehicle, we are carried by a strong unit - eight burly men,... four from each fringes and four in the middle of each corner.

"Lord Gervðas, so, uhm,... where are we going?" stuttering, I ask him quite frankly - direct to the point.

"We are going to the lake." he answers.

I want to question what's his intention heading towards that place. But, I refrain from doing so. We would have an uncouth demeanor if I am asking a lot of questions that tend to not align to my satisfaction. Perhaps, in my mind, it is rather pointless to chit-chat when someone is unwillingly giving its position. In all honesty, if I am going to be this true to my words, I find this 'Lord Gervðas' to be daunting. The aura he is emanating is different, it gives me a distinct tone of hostility. I am feeling a vibe of wariness. Despite all his façade, I know that he is sniding a smile on his face. We have reached the destination after several minutes of travel by means of eight mortal muscle-powered strength with the use of this 'thing',... this 'transportation' - palanquin.

Lord Gervðas dismounts from the vehicle, saying: "En. Lake En. We are here now. Get your ass out there and come over here, Lord Ameniah!" giving a behest to me, in a shouting mood. I concur with his instruction, wherein I nod and conform to his wish.

As it follows, the men whom we were carrying by the palanquin are setting up something. A space of three human average wingspan, they are trying to either be a hammock but with a bizarre looking shape, or more like a gurney… in a sense. Well, to be honest, a while Lord Gervðas looks frail, fragile, and harmless but it is a good job for him to conceal his anger by smiling it out. Prior to the event on his bedchamber and right about this recent erstwhile. It's not of my style playing meek in front of people. It's true but it's a different atmosphere that I display when I am around with this guy - the nation's chaplain. The construction of the clothed-stretcher looking hammock is, at long last, complete.

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"Thank you." I praise them, as I tip them one-by-one with a handsome amount of coins each per head.

"Leave us for now." he adds to my statement.

Lord Gervðas realizes something after he sits down in the hammock, he stops the rest of the crew by commanding: "... and, erm,... Generate a boat or something. Buy it, steal it, rent it, whatsoever. I need to delve into a business with this gentleman." as he is referring to me - 'the gentleman' part.

"Aye, milord." they respond in unison.

"Well, Lord Ameniah… there is something we have to venture. Real necessarily." he proclaims.

"What is it, Lord Gervðas, and why does my presence is of in need of your business?" politely as possible, I ask.

"Well, we will take that endeavor when we are completely alone. To the lake - isolated." he respond.

Meanwhile, we are both enjoying the breeze of the gentle gust that is coming from the lake. Marching and soaring southward, towards us. The wind is getting stronger and wilder where these gurney-looking hammocks that we are lying in force to flip out of our asses.

"I didn't expect to be this strong, though. Apologies for the men's effort. Perhaps, our time here is not of our necessity." Lord Gervðas suggests.

"Speak of the devil! Here they come! At last! The boys are back, our spending doesn't need to pander here anymore, Lord Ameniah. Come, Lord Ameniah, let us do the business whilst we rock along these taming waves of En." he adds, whereas he hops onto the boat in an instant without a caveat for his well-being, as I take my time to walk to Lord Gervðas.

I smirk at his call whilst walking towards him at a slow pace. After that, I embark on board with Lord Gervðas in this small boat. I take up the oars with me in this station as I will be heaving this transportation. It would be an impudent stance for an injured one to row a boat in my stead, thus, for now, I will take the toll of having to break a sweat for this occasion.

"I really know how gentleman you are, Lord Ameniah. My gratitude for you." Lord Gervðas tries so hard to genuflect in this unsteady state of flooring, referring to my unspoken action.

"Thanks…" I say, in response to stammering the word.

"... but wait. I guess…" I clear my throat to reinsert to the conversation. "About this uptake, what is the purpose of this shenanigan, Augur? I do know not of this antic that you are playing…" concluding, as I become defensive to his prompt. The bottomline of it is that I feel the 'dread' through his speech. The sense of danger.

"The former viscount of the baronies of Løg, Rhyde, and Fält…"

"Wait what? What are you attempting to say, Lord Gervðas…"

"... the son of Baron Husa the Frugal…"

"Alright, just calm down, Lord Gervðas. I know this is not of a threat but you should-..."

"Ryker of the Ramilin Family. Yes, the epitome of the 'Fallen' prince and now called as 'the Exile.'"

"I suppose that's not so secretive at all… haha. You did get me on that part."

"You're an Inglovian, are you not? Lord Amen-... no, what I mean to utter is 'Prince Ryker'?"