"... The... the lord of the land is inviting us to eat at his table?" Wilhelm swallowed a bite of stew-soaked bread and turned to Roger. Damn it. This was it. Someone had recognized him, and Lord Hamheart was going to claim his bounty. They couldn't run away or try and fight these guards; they a foot taller than them, and much better armed. They had no choice but to go with them.

"Ehm... yes, just... let me... uhm..." Wilhelm reached into his pocket, pulled out some silver and laid it on the table to pay for their meal. He took one last massive bite of stew, while Roger took the remainder of the bread. Roger and he said nothing, but Frederick was chatting it up with the guards as if he had known them for years. All of them had went to war, but Frederick's initiative and leadership had earned him a spot among a lords' personal guard. He was the kind of soldier to pick up his officer's officer's helmet after he was cut down by a knight, kill the knight, then lead his squad back to safety. He had actually done that. If Frederick was the royal bastard, there would certainly be more than just one song about him.

"Thank you for the coats," Wilhelm said on their way to the keep, "I... uh... I've never dined with nobility before."

"We gonna try to bail...?" Roger whispered to Wilhelm, "Don't suppose we could just politely decline?"

"Very funny, Roger..." WIlhelm prepared a spell under his new coat, which would create a flash of light large enough to blind everyone in the room temporarily. "I'm whipping up a flash spell. I'll give the usual signal when I'm ready."