Happy Life
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Raphael listened to the story with a pounding heart. The incredible romantic tale of the struggle between inner ideals and the oppressive environment deeply touched him, to the point that he almost forgot that he hadn't added the seventh cube of sugar to his tea.
- Amazing... - he whispered. His imagination conjured up monstrous and beautiful scenes of the protagonist's inner turmoil: fleeing under the cover of night, in a rickety carriage bouncing along a bumpy road, filled with silent, frightened people; overcoming living human and legal obstacles, sometimes with a ringing coin, and sometimes with the razor-sharp edge of a Mirai blade, from which gusts of wind tear and carry away drops of blood; wandering under a low-pulled hood through ominous, threatening alleys, smoky taverns, and black markets, full of fierce, warty, and toothless thugs...
Coming to his senses, he mechanically took a sip from his cup and grimaced - the tea was already cold, and there was clearly not enough sugar.
- I wouldn't believe any other person, - he finally said. - But in the terseness of your style, I anticipate something much greater... I can't judge you - our society is very traditional in these matters. Remember that idiot, hmm... I can't remember his name anymore. Who wrote "Are Slaves Capable of Thinking Like Humans?" and a few other similar works. He wanted to organize some kind of... "movement" in our city... you didn't see this... to grant slaves all sorts of new rights. Which, of course, greatly displeased the nobility. For some time, he was ridiculed and ignored, but eventually, they decided to teach him a lesson. They... - the merchant paused for a couple of seconds and put the cup on the table - the memory interrupted any desire. - In short, it all ended badly for him, and they did it with the hands of his own slaves, whom he, by the way, was studying in his research. Just to show him, in the last moments of his life, what his nonsense was really worth. And neither money nor influence helped him. However, compared to the powerful, he was not particularly important.
The Lisliarian sighed and waved his hand, dismissing the gloomy thought.
- I'm glad you left our conservative society in time and achieved enough material and spiritual success in this dynamically developing country, - Raphael concluded, clapping his hands. - Okay, let's not delve too deeply into reminiscences for now. If all goes well, we will have more than one opportunity to chat.
He nodded apologetically to Orphidia and turned his gaze back to Inar.
- Our company, which I have told you so much about, has finally arrived in Clematis. However... - Nifael's face twisted in discomfort. - One of our founders got into a rather unpleasant situation.
Raphael recounted today's episode with the vile attack by imperial thugs on the "Golden Griffin" and the capture of Valdemar Karapha.
- We still don't know if he is facing any sentence or fine, how long he will be held, or what the conditions of his detention are. It's understandable - insulting such a person, even if it's not heinous, is an offense, but on such unfair grounds... Do you know anything about such cases?
- In addition... As I wrote, I brought my product with me - of the highest quality. Fortunately, we were not robbed or plundered on the way, but even if they had tried... It requires implementation, but I don't know for sure yet how it works here in legal terms - what is required? Licenses, duties, inspections? You have hundreds of well-fed, silken gentlemen walking right on the street. They are probably used to luxury, but I think there should be connoisseurs of the highest level of jewelry craftsmanship among them.
- And finally, one more important point... Our wonderful Baron Kraffmeyer - in fact, a general, a man of immense energy and a visionary - sees our goal as establishing the company as, hmm... a kind of... beacon of ancient heroism. In my opinion, it's absolutely charming. What is the atmosphere like in Clematis in general? What is happening beyond the surface? Where can a group of strong and capable people turn in their quest to make a name for themselves and not end up empty-handed?
- Amazing... - he whispered. His imagination conjured up monstrous and beautiful scenes of the protagonist's inner turmoil: fleeing under the cover of night, in a rickety carriage bouncing along a bumpy road, filled with silent, frightened people; overcoming living human and legal obstacles, sometimes with a ringing coin, and sometimes with the razor-sharp edge of a Mirai blade, from which gusts of wind tear and carry away drops of blood; wandering under a low-pulled hood through ominous, threatening alleys, smoky taverns, and black markets, full of fierce, warty, and toothless thugs...
Coming to his senses, he mechanically took a sip from his cup and grimaced - the tea was already cold, and there was clearly not enough sugar.
- I wouldn't believe any other person, - he finally said. - But in the terseness of your style, I anticipate something much greater... I can't judge you - our society is very traditional in these matters. Remember that idiot, hmm... I can't remember his name anymore. Who wrote "Are Slaves Capable of Thinking Like Humans?" and a few other similar works. He wanted to organize some kind of... "movement" in our city... you didn't see this... to grant slaves all sorts of new rights. Which, of course, greatly displeased the nobility. For some time, he was ridiculed and ignored, but eventually, they decided to teach him a lesson. They... - the merchant paused for a couple of seconds and put the cup on the table - the memory interrupted any desire. - In short, it all ended badly for him, and they did it with the hands of his own slaves, whom he, by the way, was studying in his research. Just to show him, in the last moments of his life, what his nonsense was really worth. And neither money nor influence helped him. However, compared to the powerful, he was not particularly important.
The Lisliarian sighed and waved his hand, dismissing the gloomy thought.
- I'm glad you left our conservative society in time and achieved enough material and spiritual success in this dynamically developing country, - Raphael concluded, clapping his hands. - Okay, let's not delve too deeply into reminiscences for now. If all goes well, we will have more than one opportunity to chat.
He nodded apologetically to Orphidia and turned his gaze back to Inar.
- Our company, which I have told you so much about, has finally arrived in Clematis. However... - Nifael's face twisted in discomfort. - One of our founders got into a rather unpleasant situation.
Raphael recounted today's episode with the vile attack by imperial thugs on the "Golden Griffin" and the capture of Valdemar Karapha.
- We still don't know if he is facing any sentence or fine, how long he will be held, or what the conditions of his detention are. It's understandable - insulting such a person, even if it's not heinous, is an offense, but on such unfair grounds... Do you know anything about such cases?
- In addition... As I wrote, I brought my product with me - of the highest quality. Fortunately, we were not robbed or plundered on the way, but even if they had tried... It requires implementation, but I don't know for sure yet how it works here in legal terms - what is required? Licenses, duties, inspections? You have hundreds of well-fed, silken gentlemen walking right on the street. They are probably used to luxury, but I think there should be connoisseurs of the highest level of jewelry craftsmanship among them.
- And finally, one more important point... Our wonderful Baron Kraffmeyer - in fact, a general, a man of immense energy and a visionary - sees our goal as establishing the company as, hmm... a kind of... beacon of ancient heroism. In my opinion, it's absolutely charming. What is the atmosphere like in Clematis in general? What is happening beyond the surface? Where can a group of strong and capable people turn in their quest to make a name for themselves and not end up empty-handed?
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
