"Bring me Vin Chaldoon this very instant to my room," I said to Vold.

Delaying his payments is one thing. But when Chaldoon gives a scar, a deep one especially to my Vizier, then my treatment to him will completely change. He is disrespecting me and the whole kingdom.

"But Your Majesty," said Vold Vizier of Commerce as he unfolded his arm sleeve, hiding his scar. "Harming Vin Chaldoon can be very damaging to our economy. He controls most of the banks, and has many contacts in the shadow market."

The shadow market is where the illegal transactions happen. These transactions occur away from the eyes of the public and the market regulators. You can buy and sell anything you want in this market; slaves, human parts, drugs, weapons, you name it.

"Cleaning up the shadow market and Vin Chaldoon at once would be great," I replied. "It would be like hitting two birds with one stone."

"Your Majesty," said Vold. "If a hundred people are getting harmed by Vin Chaldoon right now, then by the time we get revenge out of him he will avenge and harm millions instead. It is too risky,"

"Vold, your assumptions are not facts," I replied. "There are a million other alternatives. And if it did happen, we will manage it."

"I understand," Vold replied in doubt. His brain is still processing what I had just told him. "I will summon Vin Chaldoon as you have desired. Also, one of his timber suppliers named Lupus wanted to meet you. It is about the late payments that he endures from Vin Chaldoon. He is, in fact, the first person who complained to me about the matter."

"That is quite brave of him," I said. "If Chaldoon knew that he was the first person to leak this issue, he would crush his timber company in less than a day."

"Indeed," Vold replied. "I suggest you meet him before Vin Chaldoon. Lupus had been trading with Chaldoon's companies for more than three decades. He knows a lot about them."

Three decades? That is more than my age.

"Fair enough," I said. "Summon this timber supplier before Chaldoon. But how old is he? I want someone with a reliable testimony, not someone who can barely walk and talk."

Vold looked at the floor and scratched the back of his head. It seems my guess was correct.

"Well, he is old Your Majesty," Vold replied. "Eighty-five years old, and he relies on a stick to walk."

"Are you mocking me, Vold?" I asked.

I did not expect my assumption to be this accurate, and I am not demeaning those of old age. But we need quick and reliable words.

"No, absolutely not Your Majesty," said Vold with a stutter and sweaty forehead. "Despite his age, Lupus is the head of a major timber company. He is of a sharp memory and a strong mind. I guarantee it,"

"You'd better be saying the truth Vold," I replied with a sigh.

$$$

"Oh, so much light in this hall, and the place smells like roses," said the timber supplier with a childish smile as he entered the main hall of my palace.

The brown stick he was holding allowed him to stand up despite his shaky legs. His smile was horrible for half of his teeth were gone.

I was sitting on my throne in the main hall of the royal palace. I had to wear my red royal robes in public as usual.

When commoners visit a king, the first thing they are supposed to do is to greet him and go to their knees. But this supplier had completely ignored me and instead is gazing at the colorfully decorated tall windows.

I looked at Vold, standing on my right. He understood the meaning behind my gaze and responded by looking apologetically downward.

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I can whip this old man for disrespect, but how can I do such a thing to an 85-year-old?

"You are the timber supplier Lupus aren't you?" I asked loudly. "Vizier Vold me that you wanted to speak to me."

The old man Lupus got distracted from gazing at the windows and looked at me with surprised eyes.

"Who are you?" Lupus asked me. "Why are you here?"

Alright, I give up.

"Guards, take him away," I ordered.

The guards, who were standing like statues at the four corners of the main hall began to move toward the old man.

Then suddenly, Lupus raised his right hand. "How would you punish a young orphan kid that steal?" he asked me.

The guards stopped going after Lupus after his question and looked at me for any change in orders.

"Wait," I ordered the guards. "Are you testing me, Lupus?"

"Indeed I am my king," Lupus replied with a toothless smile. "After all, I need to confirm if are worthy of my knowledge, regardless whether you are a king or not."

So staring at the glass windows and ignoring my presence was an act or rather a test. I do not hate people who do not differentiate between kings and commoners. But it is not appropriate to disrespect a king in front of his people. I cannot allow this practice to spread.

"I will answer your question," I replied. "And after that, I will punish you for disrespect."

The old man Lupus did not respond but waited for my response to his question with serious eyes and shaky legs. It is quite a weird image if you ask me.

So how would I treat an orphan kid who steals? Quite a tricky question. It depends on the financial situation of the young kid, and on what he stole and how did he steal it.

"I do not know," I replied. "How could I take any decision without knowing the story behind the kid's theft incident?"

"I see," replied Lupus with a warm tone. "So you are not hasty, but a patient and a careful king. This is good. Fine, I will tell you all that I know about Vin Chaldoon and his gentle father, Barion Chaldoon."

"Hurry up," I urged him. "You have wasted enough time from me."

"Of course, but before that," said Lupus. "What about my punishment? You said that I would receive it after you answer my question."

Was he waiting for the punishment? Or perhaps he knew that I could not give him a harsh punishment until he tells me what he knows about Chaldoon.

"Guards, tickle him till he falls from laughter," I ordered.

"Wait, what—" Lupus words got interrupted by the four guards pocking their fingers on the old man's armpits and belly.

Soon enough, tiny tears began to form at the corner of Lupus eyes as he started to laugh hysterically. He soon lost hold of his stick, and it fell on the ground.

"No, please have mercy on me," the old man pleaded between his laughter. "Not my armpit!"

The guards did not hear Lupus pleas and instead worked hard to finish the humiliating job. I could feel the guards emitting disgust despite being fully armored.

Telling someone you have tickled an 85-year-old will bring you mockery all the way to your grave and will leak to your descendants.

After half a minute, Lupus fell on the ground with a grin that reached his ears and said, "I have not laughed like this for 50 years."