Hubbard charged into the Lord's Hall at Lion's Den, looking like a fat boar that had rolled down a mountainside.
His expensive silk coat was gone, replaced by a worn leather cuirass smeared with dirt and grass. Sweat-soaked strands of hair clung to his forehead. He was dusty and travel-worn, yet visibly brimming with excitement.
He hadn't expected this! Not in his wildest dreams! He was going to make a fortune!
The guards frowned, hands on their sword hilts as they waited for Lord Suleiman's orders.
Suleiman's voice came from the lord's seat above. "Calm down, my stout steward!"
Inside, he let out a sigh of relief. It was finally over. The petitioners who had come seeking justice had given him a headache. Every day, the lords of Westeros faced the daunting task of hearing the grievances of their subjects.
Under the Three-Chief System, the stewards handled ordinary matters. But many disputes remained. People felt the stewards had ruled unfairly and demanded to see the lord, so they could plead their case before him.
Things like, "His building encroaches on my land," or, "His dog bit my child, and he refuses to admit it."
Hubbard panted to a stop in the hall. After a simple bow, he handed a thick scroll of parchment to a maid who stepped forward. Having already learned that the lord was unconventional, he showed no sign of dismay at the maid's ugly appearance.
He watched as the maid handed the parchment to Suleiman.
His voice came out a little shrill with excitement, and his small eyes gleamed with fervor. "My lord!"
"You're a genius! An absolute genius!"
Suleiman picked up the parchment scroll but didn't unroll it right away. He regarded Hubbard with interest and gestured for him to continue.
"I went, Lord Suleiman."
"I