The King's Obligation

No One Cares For The Poor

George looks up at Dream, he gives him a kind and sincere smile. Dream's hands are clasped firmly around the hilt of his sword, prepared to strike at a single given word. It brings George a great amount of comfort but at this moment it is not needed. He opens his mouth to speak. "That means you too Dream."

Dream looks down at the king, tilting his head to the side as he replies, worry laces into his speech. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, I appreciate it but I'm quite alright by myself."

Dream continues to stand stationary, looking uneasy, and unsure of the situation. George gives the knight a pleading and comforting smile to which Dream takes it as the reassurance he needs to leave. He nods his head, leaving George with Bad and the man before them. "Now," George begins.

He turns to look at the man. "Do you know why we brought you here, Philza?"

Philza folds his arms and keeps his head high. "I'm not too sure, I was just summoned here without a reason."

George raises an eyebrow. "You're confident that you don't have any idea?"

"I haven't the faintest clue."

Distaste and hatred seep through the men's words. Like the venom from a snake bite. George looks to Bad who stands at his side, quietly and patiently. "Could you please tell this man why he was brought here?" George asks.

Bad jolts at his words and clears his throat to speak. "But of course, your highness."

He stares Phill dead in the eyes with a disapproving glare. "Last night the castle was robbed."

Phill raises an eyebrow. "And you think I was the one who robbed it?"

Bad shakes his head. "No, but we think you may know the person who did."

It takes Philza a minute to register what is being said. His eyes shoot wide. He sighs with an offended laugh. "Oh, you think it was one of my boys."

Bad looks to George and then back to Philza, biting down on his tongue. George speaks up for him, coldness in his tone. "Yes, we have many reasons to believe it was one of your sons."

Philza scoffs at the remark. "Does the royal family have nothing better to do than blame my sons for various felonies?"

George feels a pit of rage bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. He clenches his fits. "It's not my fault your sons continue to break the law."

"I suppose you have a point but do tell,"

Philza's eyes are as cold as the great arctic. "What evidence do you have to back these claims because this seems like quite the fallacy so far."

George chews away at the inside of his cheek, Bad can see the distress the king is in to which he jumps into the conversation. "The thief was seen with a sword, that is one of the custom swords that Technoblade used to make."

"Ok, but how does that trace back to my boys? Anyone could've gotten their hands on one of them."

"Oh please," George hisses.

"All of the weapons that man crafted were thrown into the fire after he was exiled."

Philza leans back on his hip, his face unwavering from its stern expression. "Ok, you do have a point but even still. Suppose it was one of my sons, why would I tell you who?"

"To bring justice and your loyalty to this country and the crown," Bad says.

Phill rolls his baby blue eyes and chuckles to himself before replying. "What makes you think I have any loyalty to this place, let alone a monarch?"