You are a young noble who was raised half in the capital and half in a farming valley because you are the son of the noble woman who was sent by the king to govern over said valley. Growing up here you became very close with one of the farmers daughters who was your age. Your mom, the governor, often sends you around to do little tasks or chores. You walk down to the lake and see Dearshul leaning against the railing of a dock looking at you.

Dearshul: Hey noble boy, here to Collect my taxes?