Kieth gave no indication that he had seen the servant enter his room. He had, of course, but to allow himself to react to one of such lower class would be a poor reflection on him, especially in front of his guest.
He spent his days split between the capitol and the Mint. not that anyone outside a few high ranking officials knew that. The identity of who ran the Imperial mint was one of the most tightly kept secrets. and if it ever leaked the first he would know of it would be the [Assassin] ending his life.
Not that he blamed Joseph, he was a good man, loyal to the throne above all else, as he should be. But their knowledge that Keith's days were numbered by how many people knew of his existence did lend the man to enjoying himself a little at his expense. Likewise the knowledge that his life could end at any moment made Kieth more open to seeing his desires fulfilled.
His life was one of Hedonistic excess. He had an effectively bottomless purse to draw from, and too many reasons to do so.
But not at the moment. Right now he was speaking with one of the few men who knew who he really was, and that meant he was as sober and focused as it was possible for him to be. So no, he did not see the servants. Whatever they had could wait.
And so it was quite a shock when not only did the servant approach, uninvited, but even dared to speak, and to his guest directly as well. If the shock hadn’t paralysed him he might have ordered the man's execution immediately. but perhaps it was as well he didn’t, because whatever was said, whispered into his ear, it was enough for the man to cut the conversation short, and within an hour he was gone. His carriage kicking up dust as it sped away down the road and back towards the capitol.
He didn’t see the servants, and he certainly didn’t hear what was said. And if Joseph visited him that night he wouldn’t be able to argue. It was a simple hierarchy; The only people who knew who he was were above him, and everyone else was below. How far below varied, but to him below was below. So he didn’t know who was above him, he knew them, their faces and names, but he didn’t know why they were above him, what role they served. And if he did come to find out, both he and they would not live to see the morn. or at least he wouldn’t.
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But he did see the dawn, and it was a glorious one. the sky in the distance rent in twain by trailing curtains of light. the mana swirling and rippling, heightened enough that even from here he could sense it.
A fine final view for the servant, whose fate had been sealed the moment he passed along the message, even if he hadn’t understood the importance of what he had passed along. The [Seer] would have joined him hanging if Kieth had anything to say about it, but alas [Seer] was a rare enough class that replacing his current one would be difficult, not that Kieth even knew who his seer was, he lived somewhere behind the kitchen, he thought, but he had never seen the man. Or maybe he had, he wouldn’t have known anyway, they were just another servant most of the time.
He vaguely recalled watching the sky over that way flash with light, but he had been so deep into his wine, and one of his favorite serving girls, at that point he hadn’t given it much thought.
Still, he had to wonder. If the man who took his reports on how much coin was produced and released each month was also responsible for the hall of heroes, what could such a hypothetical mean?
The Summoning of heroes was about as far from his area of expertise as farming, but he knew there were strict limits on how many and often summonings could be performed. And if someone was calling for a mass summoning, then that meant something was very wrong, the sort of something that couldn’t be dealt with by the Heroes they already had, or a full batch of new summons.
This was the sort of thing that broke nations and shattered continents, and he was mindful that he could see the likely source from his window.
Perhaps it was time to organise for a trip, somewhere far away, with solid defenses. Yes, perhaps it was time he checked in on the swampland farms. they had been neglected the last few years, too far and unpleasant to be worth a trip, but important, somehow.