"What is your wish, son? I will give you whatever your heart desires. A rule is a rule, and I am a man of honour," Vanka asked when sir black was thrown at his feet. He had been battered so badly he wasn't able to stand, and the other reason was that he wanted to appear as humble as possible. He stooped so low his head touched the earth. He had mastered the art of licking boots since he was young, so the act had been perfected.
"Dear King. Sovereign ruler of this prosperous land of Vanka, whatever shall a filthy man like me ask of you?" sir black sang praises, and humans would always be human, and praises always softened even the hardest of hearts.
"What could such a humble servant of Vanka have done to deserve being in prison?" the king asked, moving forward on his seat.
