Though he knew that time was running short, Arthur spent it peacefully strolling through the streets of Erthyl. Many of the Erthyllians would often greet him, sparing him the kindness that Sir Bertrand and Wendell never considered.
But even so, he felt sad for Wendell, walking as he brainstormed an alibi for Wendell, reading the details of the parchment as he entered the more populated areas of Erthyl's long and endless streets.
"Maybe, I can cover the loan this one time?" he mumbled under his breath, holding his chin as he read the parchment. "Though it'll be all that I made over the year… but it'll save Mister Wendell some of Sir Bertrand's wrath, I suppose."
"Arthur!" a pleasant feminine voice called, cutting through the cacophony of hundreds of voices with its delicate edge.
Arthur looked around, before spotting a woman of long blonde hair peeking from behind a stagecoach, entirely embroidered in a completely black dress, wearing white gloves, as bright as her smile.
"Sabaoth's favour be with you, Lady Emma," Arthur replied as he lowered his head, like a slow nod, before letting his eyes meet with Emma's. "Is there any matter I may assist you with?"
"Why yes," Emma replied as she walked back into her house. "Just give me one moment please!"
"A-alright," Arthur said, although he was hoping to return to Sir Bertrand's demesne as soon as possible.
But it couldn't be helped, for everyone in the area knew Arthur to be a kind and helpful person that they were pleased to see.
After a couple moments, Emma returned with a pouch, smiling as she walked over to Arthur and said:
"This is for you, dear Arthur".
"What is this?" he asked, holding out his hands as she dropped the pouch. Upon hearing the sound of coins clashing together, he looked up, meeting his brown eyes with her jade ones as he added:
"Lady Emma, if this is what I think it is, then I cannot accept your gift. Your wealth belongs to you alone."
"You need not worry, Arthur," Lady Emma replied, gently closing his fingers around the pouch. "I know what your situation is like. You've been awfully helpful to me for these many years, so this is the least I may do to ease your life of hard work."
"But—"
"Worry not," she interrupted, closing her eyes and smiling as she shook her head lightly. "I would take you to Central Erthyl, but I fear for how you would make ends meet after leaving the service of Sir Bertrand..."
Arthur let out a deep sigh as he smiled, grateful for the gift that he never expected, but still didn't feel was deserved.
"You have my eternal gratitude, Lady Emma. Mayst thy journey be of peace," he replied, pocketing the pouch before making his way for Sir Bertrand's demesne once again.
"Oh, Arthur," Emma called out again, searching through the storage compartment of her stagecoach, "there is one more thing I must request of you."
"I shall aid thee in any way I am able to."
"Then please deliver this umbrella to Althea," she said as she removed a black umbrella as large as a greatsword in length. "She lent it to me a while ago, and I've been meaning to return it. You'd best go quick, as I've but not a clue as to whether she has left or not."
"I will make haste."
Arthur reached over for the umbrella, surprised to be met with a kiss on the cheek, quickly jumping back he stared at Emma with wide eyes, frantically looking around, hoping that no one saw as his heart raced.
"Lady Emma, why?" he asked, his voice travelling up a couple tones.
"What do you mean why?" she asked with a honeyed voice, resting a hand on her face as she smiled.
"I'm but a mere commoner," Arthur replied, still looking around, though now it was more of a reaction out of surprise and the inability to look at her in his embarrassment. His ears burned, and his cheeks went red as he added:
"And I am far younger than you..."
She covered her mouth as she giggled and then said:
"Oh by how many years? Five or six? Come with me Arthur. You need not work for Sir Bertrand."
She reached out with her open palm, staring at him, who stared back with his brows knitted together.
"I apologize, Lady Emma," he shook his head slightly, "but I cannot accept this offer. I need to return to Sir Bertrand and deliver this umbrella you asked of me. I am grateful for your compassion, but I am merely a slave."
Although that was the reality, deep down, Arthur felt his chest burn. Perhaps he wasn't saying what he truly wanted, but even so, he felt that it was more honourable to let the kind lady go on without him. After all, as he put it, he was merely a commoner... and she was a noble.
Emma's smile slowly died off, while her red lips returned to their resting position. Her eyes slowly closed, along with her drooping shoulders, sighing out of sadness.
"I understand, Arthur," she replied, closing the storage compartment of her stagecoach.
Arthur watched as she passed by him to the stagecoache's door, taking a few steps up to the door before pausing and looking at him one more time as she added:
"Fear not. I hold no resentment for you. Farewell, dear Arthur, I wish you happiness in this dark, dark world. May the blessing and favour of Sabaoth be upon you. Perhaps we shall meet again?"
Arthur remained silent, watching as she disappeared into the stagecoach. The reinsman took off, setting course for Central Erthyl, the safest area known to anyone in these parts of the land.
After watching it travel up the road for a bit, he quickly made his way over to Althea's home, stopping for no one this time around.
After a short while of running further up the street, where the surroundings were cleaner—at least in regards to the fact that no corpses littered the streets—he arrived at Althea's house, walking up to the door and knocking immediately.
"Oh, just a moment," said a woman from behind the doors, which opened after a few seconds, revealing a woman of curly, auburn hair in a black and white dress, more commonly found amongst the middle-class folk. "Oh, it's Arthur! What brings you here, sweet child?"
He cleared his throat. "Missis Wright, I am here to deliver an umbrella of yours on behalf of Lady Emma." He held out the black umbrella in both hands as though he were presenting an offering.
"Oh, my umbrella!" Althea said as she took it, smiling as countless memories of her younger life flooded in. "Thank you, Arthur. I don't have much to repay you, but—"
"You need not repay me," Arthur interrupted, smiling as he made his way down the few stairs that led to her door. "Lady Emma had already… compensated me for this task. I must take my leave now. May Sabaoth's favour be upon you!"
"May Sabaoth's favour be upon you as well, Arthur!" Althea yelled as she watched him run off, with not a single thought of looking back. "Was that lipstick on his face?"
And while Arthur ran, many others greeted him, all of them wishing the common phrase:
"May Sabaoth's favour be upon you."
But even so, Arthur feared that Sir Bertrand was not going to be interested in hearing any way he would make up for failing to retrieve the loan from Wendell.