"Come, my Lord. I have drawn you a bath and made supper." Hella informed him.
Lance's eyes lit up at the sound of both small luxuries. He had not been expecting any of this. His house was now a home. He followed her to the water closet, where a steaming bath awaited him. She left him to his privacy.
Lance had never experienced this sort of treatment from any person before. At the tender age of nine, he was abandoned by his mother and father. Having to fend for himself in the gutter most nights. He learned how to protect himself. He had been loitering around the local tavern when he met the Fenway Knights.