Bowerby bowed his head subserviently, obsequiously rubbing his hands together.
This former servant of Lord Doyle stood at the very front of the cavalry troop, whispering, "There should be four guards here, but with the banquet tonight, they've been called back — this has happened before! I'll head back to the manor now, and then, I'll lower the drawbridge for you!"
Having said that, Bowerby looked towards the leading cavalryman.
But he didn't receive a reply from the cavalryman; instead, the snorting of the cavalryman's horse startled Bowerby.
Bowerby kept retreating until he finally fell flat on the ground.
The pain made him grimace, but he dared not complain. Instead, he quickly scrambled back to his feet and continued to look up at the cavalryman with a sycophantic smile.
"Go!"
This time, the leading cavalryman finally spoke.
Like receiving a pardon, Bowerby turned and ran towards Oakwood Manor.
"Heh, Doyle?"
The leading cavalryman sneered coldly.
