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Having completed the order, the elf delivered it to the customers, one of whom he had already seen earlier that day. Returning to the bar, the bartender continued his work, occasionally glancing at the curious couple.
— I can't argue with that, — the aristocrat agreed, slowly sipping his "Iris." — Unlike other ducal families, only our family's surname was based on the name of the region entrusted to the first duke of these lands, my distant ancestor. He admired the imperial family, and when he finally received the long-awaited title, he decided to follow the example of Lapis Reima, the first king. As for my name... My father wasn't very imaginative and decided to name his firstborn son after a classic dance from our region.
— Seriously? — The foreigner was both surprised and amused. — What an idiot.
— Ha, should you really speak like that? This man is a duke; in this country, only the emperor is above him. You could be punished for such disrespect.
— Luckily, I am not a citizen of this country, and your etiquette does not apply to me.
— As tedious bureaucrats like to say, ignorance is no excuse.
— Pfft... — The foreigner finished his drink. — Are you done with your business in Calvada?
— Yes.
— That's good. I've been meaning to ask you for a long time — why are you doing this yourself? Wouldn't it be easier to send a trusted person to carry out these tasks?
— I don't think so. It's best to handle these things myself, not to mention that I don't trust anyone.
— I didn't know you were paranoid.
— It's not about paranoia. Even if a person has good intentions, it doesn't necessarily mean that he will handle the task assigned to him in the best way.
— I see. Nevertheless, perhaps you should still have a bodyguard or two with you.
— No need. If some madman decides to shoot me in the head in front of the whole city, no guard will help me.