Philip Howlanger was a very proper man. From his meticulously manicured mustache to his immaculate wardrobe, his mild demeanor to his impeccable character, everything about him was proper.

As it should be. He was the second most powerful person in Hobart Kingdom after all. His title was prime minister Earl Howlanger. He was his Majesty the Wild King William’s right hand man and his keeper of secrets. To Hobart Kingdom, his career was akin to that of a storyteller or a puppeteer. In the literal sense, he was a spy master, as the second most powerful person in any kingdom always was.

Late one one afternoon, Philip was sipping tea on the observation deck he had installed above the business wing of his enormous manor when he did something very uncharacteristic of himself. With a sudden jerk of his hand, he spilled some of his tea on his priceless robes. It wasn't much tea, but it now adorned very expensive and very rare green singing spider silk. The bold, robust flavor of the Earl's fine, foreign afternoon blend would not benefit the robes magical properties, nor did the splotches aesthetics compliments giant lister eardrum hair embroidered into the robe by the finest and enchantress in all the kingdoms. That was not a very proper thing for Philip to do.

More than that though, it was a personal gift from the Wild King himself, and now Philip would have to stand before the king wearing his priceless, soiled gift.

Without averting his eyes from the splotch of tea he spilled, he addressed an elderly man dressed like a butler. The old man, holding a handkerchief for the spilled tea, was Philip’s personal attendant. Though his beard fell all the way to the ground and coiled on the deck between his feet like the sixth god’s statue’s beard, at a youthful eighty years of age and with a full head of white hair, the minister’s right hand man was not nearly as old looking as the stone Wizard spread throughout the kingdoms.

“Sir?” the butler inquired, unsure if he had heard his Earl correctly.

“Do it and do not dally,” Philip snapped, frustrated with his servant’s inaction.

“Yes, at once Mister Minister.” The white haired man, nimbley for someone with over twice the Minister’s years, quickly vanished.

Earl Howlanger noticed that he was still holding his tea cup. He finished the sip, and frowned. His displeasure wasn't from the taste of the fine tea, nor from the tea he was wearing.

His displeasure stemmed from a secret he heard, a single secret one of his men procured, turned into a code word, and carried on the wind into the ear of the Earl.

Not far away two children were playing in a marvelous courtyard. The owner of the courtyard, the Marquis of Kingston, enjoyed his privacy, and for that purpose, had built this separate personal mansion on his appealing five acre estate. Twenty five thousand square feet of refrigerated, secured, private paradise, located in the middle of the kingdom's capital, on the kings estate, was the Marquise’s first class fortress of solitude. At least that is how outsiders like the honorable Prime Minister interpret this exclusive, high-security compound located in his Majesty’s backyard.

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The two story Mansion, had four rectangular sections forming a courtyard in the middle. Trees, flowers, trimmed grass, and a splendid fountain created a peaceful, luxurious space, and unknown to outsiders, the Marquise liked to share his space.

Little Timothy was splashing around in an outdoor bath. His innocent four year old laugh echoed through the courtyard spreading smiles in its wake. His sister, younger by one year, little Tiara, was being subjected to an onslaught water attacks, and giggling merrily.

Though Martha, the maid charged with the children's hygiene, was not spared from his wild splashing, she too was infected by his laughter and giggled while she and little Tiara happily endured.

Martha enjoyed these small moments, however brief they were. She wished things could be like this forever. That was never the case though.

For as long as she could remember she had been Marquis Thomas Lloyd's personal maid, his servant. She grew up in this courtyard with many other children over the years. A long time ago, there were kids older than herself around, but the other kids all left at around five years old making her the oldest. Caring for small children was something she had always done and she was the type that taking care of other people came naturally. She was good at it, which might have been the reason she was still there while so many of her friends were not.

Twenty five years ago, Martha's parents were in debt. They could either sell themselves or their three month old baby. She had been Thomas Lloyd's slave ever since. The only people that she's ever known we're also property of the Marquise. She had arrived at this large Hobart City estate before she could walk and never having stepped foot anywhere else, this was all she knew.

“I wish he wouldn't stare,” she thought. Her master, had a habit of staring. It made her anxious when he was watching, but more than anything it set ablaze her sense of guilt. She was helpless to do anything about her situation, so she would try to enjoy those small moments that seemed so far away. That was impossible under his gaze.

The Marquise was lord of the old capital, which he often traveled to. Fortunately, this meant he was not always around to stare at is revolving property. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times. While Martha had never personally seen her master do anything out of hand, she had also not seen any of the other kids she grew up with since they were children. Thomas Lloyd used to look at them like that as well, intently, with a charming smile that didn’t match his keen eyes. 

She didn’t know why only she was sill there, and she didn’t think she would be around for much longer, but there wasn't anything she could do about that kind of stuff though. Still, it was better when he was away.

To her relief, one of his men said something to the Marquis in a hushed voice causing her master to leave in a hurry. She didn't know or care what was said, but she was thankful to be rid of him. Now she could go back to bathing the children in peace. Happily giggling with little Timothy and Tiara was the only thing she could do. It was something that she had to do, for their sake.