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

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	Good lad? Pfftt, that's ironic. There's a first for everything Thalken supposed, but one shouldn't get there hopes up. He was a Talink after all. On Michael's count of three, he lifted his end of the dead body and helped moved it onto the cart. The Lord Galloway was a fairly hefty man in life and in death, but it wasn't anything Thalken couldn't handle. Truth be told, this wasn't his first time dealing with a dead body, by any means, but no one needed to know that. 

	He nodded his head slightly in response to Michael's thanks. He still found it so peculiar to hear people thank him for much of anything. In his line of work, monetary payment was typically thanks enough for a job well done. And by well done, it meant someone had to lose their life and a family's world subsequently turned upside down. It was all just so messed up when he thought about it. This life of inflicting pain and death wasn't easy on a person's psyche. No wonder his father was so heartless. The man had destroyed his heart and soul a long time go. Thalken just hoped he himself wasn't too far gone.

	Thalken glanced over at Thomas, before his attention returned to Michael. His eyes narrowed as the man asked for his help once again but didn't give him a chance to reply. Basically he wasn't really given a choice in the matter. He barely held back a huff of annoyance. Michael was lucky Thalken was in a somewhat lenient mood. He followed alongside the cart as requested. Though if the body did fall off, he wasn't exactly going to dive down to catch. Sure he wanted to do some good, but he wasn't [I]that[/I] desperate. 

	As they passed in front of the Glimmeric, he heard a familiar voice greet them. His head whipped to the side to meet Frances's gaze. Great, he had been spotted by someone who is familiar with his father. His eyes narrowed dangerously and turned into an outright glare in response to the upward curve of her lips. Did she find this amusing?! Because he sure as hell didn't.   	
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[center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Westminster Hospital 

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	It seemed Fyror had been thrown right into the hot seat upon reentering the room. Mrs. Wyndham had always made it crystal clear that she despised him, and for what? He had never treated her with an ounce of disrespect. No, she had made her mind up the moment she laid eyes on his mangled face, as countless others had before her. She likely made assumptions that his scar came from dishonorable origins, thus he was deemed as less than human, a monster incarnate. However, somehow Millicent could see past his scars to the true man beneath, and for that he was truly grateful. These days the world was in such low supply of people like that. 

	He straightened and braced himself as Mrs. Wyndham tore into him. He briefly glanced over at the other man who was similarly facing the woman's wrath. His jaw clenched as her words hit their mark, but perhaps they did not cut as deeply as she would have liked. She wished to shame him, but the truth was that he did not regret dancing with Millicent. After all, he had done it with the honorable intention of protecting her from Lord Rutherford. His only regret was that he had not insisted upon dancing with her longer or anything else to keep her from being defiled by that wretched earl. 

	[color=DC143C]"All I have ever wanted was for Millicent to be safe and happy. And I wish the same for you and the rest of your family, despite how much you proclaim to despise me. I regret that I was not there sooner last night to prevent the pain and loss that was dealt to your family. But when I did get there, I stayed by [I]both[/I] of your sides until I knew you were in safe hands. Do not ever forget that, and do not ever say I don't care,"[/color] he replied. His voice was gravely serious as he addressed both Mrs. Wyndham and Emma. Thereafter, without another word, he spun on his heels and followed Dr. Graham out.