Drogo sat alone in the alehouse with a large mug of ale. He was fuming with anger and was sure that this was the beginning of his downfall if he didn't do something to stop it. Both his kids were taken by Lord Lazarus. He sold the first one while the second one was taken forcibly. He held his head in his hands, feeling like a fool. How could he trust his wife so easily? Why didn't he read the signs of her behavior?
He drank his ale and started thinking of how to rescue his image. With rebellion gone, his importance and reputation in the village would go down sharply. The girl who was serving ale to all, refilled his glass. He was about to finish the second one when he heard how people were murmuring as they stole glances at him.
"I heard from my wife that his wife had also gone there on invitation," said the blacksmith.
