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"What?" "Why?' Most of the Janko retainers and bodyguards were trading glances, puzzled by Ciril's sudden announcement.
Only the stronger retainers were frowning as they pondered on Frank Lawrence's name, more or less getting the idea.
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"Could he be a member of the Lawrence family, formerly one of the Four Families of Morhen?!" "Is he the heir to the Lord of the Southern Woods?!" While everyone was left uncertain, Ciril coughed loudly twice and laughed heartily, "Don't worry, Mr. Lawrence. | have been around for a while—and | despise ingrates the most. If you have any requests, feel free to voice them! | understand that money is nothing to you... As long as it's within our power to grant it, we'll do our utmost!" "Yes, Mr. Lawrence! Don't hold back on us now!" "Ask away, Mr. Lawrence!" Seeing how enthusiastic the Jankos were, Frank mused to himself for a moment before glancing at the invitation Ned was holding.
"In that case, | do have a favor to ask," he said quietly.
"Ask away!" Ciril said heartily.
"During the Lionhearts' wedding ceremony in a few days, and depending on the situation. I'm going to need your help." Frank refrained from giving details—he might have just saved the Jankos single-handedly, but it was still a pipe dream to ask them to go to war against the Lionhearts.
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To no surprise, Ciril frowned at his words, musing to himself before asking, "Do you bear grievances against the Lionhearts, Mr. Lawrence? If it's Sif Lionheart, | could well have her brought back here this instant. But | can see you have been through enough to not get petty over mere squables and to challenge the Lionhearts for it?" Yed and Lothar both nodded—they agreed with that whole-heartedly.
"No." Frank shook his head, his eyes flashing coolly. "I suspect that the Lionhearts and Turnbulls are conspiring to force this wedding to happen. And the bride-to-be. she's my woman." Bar Le