"Hey, you little punk. What's with that stare? Never seen a girl enjoying being a girl?" A slum dweller jeered, his crooked teeth showing as he poked his dirty fingers toward Cassius, trying to act tough, trying to draw laughter out of the others.
"Leave the kid alone, maybe he—wait! Look at the crest!!!" Another one spoke up, but his words weren't laced with arrogance, only with raw, trembling fear.
The first man froze mid-motion, his mocking grin cracking. His eyes trailed downward, following where the other pointed.
And there it was.
A falcon.
The boy bore the crest of a falcon. He was a Lancaster.
The realization struck like lightning, and the mere thought sent a shiver down his spine so deep it reached his marrow. His throat clenched. His body shook as though his soul itself wanted to flee.
"Ah… boy… we're just pla—"
Thud—
