England, Europe. 1705 CE.

Satoru was not someone to apologize for his mistakes⎯why should he? In his mind, everything had a justification or excuse. He have always had everything handed to him in a silver platter, after all. And he knew this.

So when his father, the King of England, forced him to go on a two-weeks trip with a platoon of knights-in-training in one of the multiple deep forests of the country, on a cold, and biting winter night, he was appalled, to say the least.

Why would his father think that sending him on a rustic expedition with a bunch of rough-and-tumble knights-in-training would do anything to make him more responsible?

The only 'supposed' reason that his father had sent him out here, was because he had been 'rude' to the King's Lords of the Council; a bunch of old men who liked to hide under the King's mantle and demand respect.

In the eighteen-year-old's⎯rightfully so⎯mind, he had not done anything wrong.

Yet, despite the harsh winter night, and the less than ideal company, there was a part of him that was enjoying himself. It was a welcome change from the stuffy castle and overly formal courtly etiquette.

The knights-in-training might be a rowdy bunch, but at least they were not afraid to speak their minds. Unlike those old Lords of the Council who would sooner kiss the King's boots than stand for what they believed in.