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[center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] The Strand, London (Glimmeric)

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	Thalken listened in on the people's conversations, their voices being carried down the alleyway to his eavesdropping ears. He was melded into the shadows, hiding him from view. However, his position did not provide him a close enough view of the body to tell how the man had died. No, he would unfortunately have to get closer, and he needed to do it sooner rather than later. They were keen on getting the body out of the road, rather than first trying to figure out what had happened. Surely moving the body would contaminate the evidence. Perhaps if the constables knew how this body related to those piled up at the docks, they wouldn't be so quick disturb the scene. Well, it seemed that Thalken would just have to do the dirty work while the constables took their sweet time.

	He decided to backtrack the way he had come, opting to come from the main street behind the crowd rather than from the alleyway. That would raise less suspicion. Well, as much as a man of his repertoire possibly could manage. By the time he had come back around the adjacent buildings, Thomas and Francis were no longer there. He pushed through the crowds and then brushed past Michael without a word in typical Thalken fashion. His brown eyed gaze held its usual intensity as he walked up to the very dead Lord Galloway. He knelt down by the body as his shrewd gaze looked the body over before taking in the surrounding scene. Unless the scene had been tampered with since the murder took place, there should be some kind of clue.
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[center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Westminster Hospital 

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	Dr. Graham's words made it clear to Fyror how grave this situation was. Fyror shook his head as he held it in his hands. This couldn't be happening. Why did bad things always seem to happen to good people? And that wasn't in reference to himself. This wasn't a pity party on his part. No, he was thinking of Millicent. She was a good person. He had seen no vileness in her. She gave him no reason to disrespect her, far from it actually. She was clearly more intelligent than people gave her credit for. She didn't deserve any of this. She deserved so much better than this. It genuinely tore him up inside to think of any harm coming to her, let alone a torturous existence that led to a painful death. He even felt sorry for the suffering that Lord Rutherford could potentially cause the rest of the Wyndham family. Sure, Mrs. Wyndham was never nice to him, but it didn't mean he was completely heartless. [color=DC143C]"I cannot help but feel partially responsible for this turn of events. I should never have let her leave my side. I should have stood up to Lord Rutherford and openly called him out for his mistreatment of her,"[/color] he stated, looking over at Dr. Graham once more. There was raw emotion in his voice and in his demeanor, but that did not mean he had given up hope. No, Fyror had a stubborn determination to make things right, whatever the cost. 

	[color=DC143C]"You came to me for a reason, surely. You think there is something I can do to resolve this or to prevent further tragedies from occurring. And I swear to you on my honor that I will try my utmost to do just that. The women and families who have fallen victim to Lord Rutherford will get their due justice,"[/color] he proclaimed with newfound determination. His voice became stronger and more serious the longer he talked. Soon enough, he appeared more like a captain of the infantry and less like a man with a broken heart. [color=DC143C]"We should go through with the banns, but we clearly cannot stop there. Time is of the essence. I suggest the next course of action is to bring this up with the family and to keep a close watch on Millicent and Lord Rutherford's whereabouts. Now the question that remains is are you willing to stick your neck out for this, or must I do this myself?"[/color]