Gold was the prevailing color of the city as it capped roofs, lined windows, and highlighted art. For those who couldn’t afford the costs, there were paints and enchantments to enhance their dwellings. Sunbursts covered nearly every empty space on the sides of buildings, carriages, even clothes. Everything that could be done to reflect the sun’s glory had been. So it had to be a divine joke that made Sun King City seem less impressive than it likely should have been.
As Martin had mentioned, there were a lot of farmers in Sun City. In fact, food was their largest export, the older man explained, specifically sun wheat. Sun wheat was a variant of wheat that absorbed a tiny portion of the sun’s light mana, processing and then releasing it at night to help its neighboring plants grow faster and stronger. This meant that the golden city was surrounded by a sparkling, shimmering sea of gold, day or night. Adam had been happy to see the fields outside of Night City because of their nostalgic beauty, but they couldn’t hold a candle to what surrounded Sun City. The fields of the Sun King’s people extended two days' ride from the city in the direction they had come from, and, according to Martin, even farther in the other directions.
Martin assured him that the light of the sun wheat hitting the city at night was a splendid view, easily eclipsing anything other than the Garden’s of Night in his own home city. While it sounded impressive, Adam was mostly distraught that he had no idea what the Garden’s of Night even were. As young as he was, he failed spectacularly to hide his emotions from Martin, who resolved to stop trying to make Night City seem as impressive as Sun City by referencing things the poor boy had never known about.
As the duke had his estate just outside of the City of the Sun, they only spent ten minutes cutting through a portion of the city on their way through. Struggling to not be angry at yet more loss, Adam missed most of the brief trip. He was pulled from his thoughts when Martin nudged him and pointed ahead, saying, “Welcome to The DeVille Estate.”
He had been tempted to add, “Your new home,” but knew Adam wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. Instead he kept up a quiet running commentary on the grounds as they passed through. Adam had explained his knowledge skill to him some time ago, so he knew the boy would get far more than most would expect from even a cursory explanation of the history and contents of the estate.
Eventually they reached the end of their journey, dismounting their carts and carriage. Servants of all kinds rushed to and fro, offering refreshments, cleaning magics, gathering luggage, and removing their conveyances. In seemingly no time at all, the entire party was clean, refreshed, and divested of their excess belongings. Even Adam had lost the small bag he had been given to carry his spare clothing in.
Along with Martin and most of the other members of their traveling party, Adam was whisked off through a side entrance as the duke went through the front with his closest retainers. During the rush inside, Martin caught the attention of a woman near his own age, and she pulled the two of them into a room off to one side. Some whispered conversation and a pinch and pat to her behind got the man a smack in the shoulder from a blushing, but smiling, woman. She led the two of them farther into the building and set about preparing them for haircuts, baths, and food. As it was late in the day, Adam would be introduced to the mistress of the house the next day, after he was properly attired for his expected new position.
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Duke Quentin Roberts Westbrook DeVille strode through the doors of his estate as though he was king. As his wife had told him, one must be prepared for what life brings you, and he was determined that life would bring him the throne. As such, he strove to be as royal as he could be.
His wife awaited him within the entrance hall with a collection of her ladies in waiting. A quick scan let him know that privacy was not assured, the lower noblewomen were present instead of the slaves. He knew that having lesser nobles as attendants helped establish social hierarchy, but he prefered the brand enforced secrecy of slavery for his attendants. Even still, some of his own men weren’t branded, but men of earned trust. He didn’t see the hypocrisy of judging his wife’s ladies as untrustworthy because they weren’t enslaved, nor did he realize his wife thought the same way about his trusted men.
While he and his wife, Elinoria, exchanged the customary greetings he made a few surreptitious gestures, letting her know that they needed to speak immediately about matters of enough importance to leave the ladies and servants behind. Wonderful creature that she was, she didn’t pause in the slightest while she received and digested the message. Nor did she hesitate in suggesting that they immediately retire to the bedroom alone so that she could attend to her lord husband. He hid his smile at the game they were playing. Some of the slaves knew the reality of their lives, but they had long established and lived their public identities in front of an audience. Sun King City might have a reputation for being honest and straightforward, but that only applied to the common people. Nobles were an entirely different story.
Alone in their rooms, the couple separated to cast their own spells and use their own artifacts. Once privacy was assured, they seated themselves at the table they always discussed matters of import at. Quentin started off with a brief recap of his journey, then moved onto the interesting bits.
“Things are starting in Night City, but it will take time. Our agents have orders to identify those dissatisfied with the current arrangements, or those who have the influence necessary. Obviously, they are looking for the younger and more foolish candidates first.”
“And did you meet with my aunt’s husband?” Even in the privacy of their home some names were better left unsaid. It wasn’t a superstition, simply justified precaution.
“Yes. He is amenable, but it will cost us. A portion of that cost is waiting downstairs.”
“Oh? Do tell?”
“Well, with our schemes increasing, I knew you wouldn’t have the time to personally care for the children as much as you would like, so I bought a caretaker. An interesting youth. Has a class called Care Bear, that is specialized in the raising and protecting of children.”
“A youth? As in an Apprentice? I don’t think that an Apprentice can handle the level of dangers we may encounter in the coming years.”
“Perhaps not yet, but he managed to kill one of your bastard cousins right as he got his class.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t think we ever met him. Harold? Anyways, he was some sort of guard at an orphanage. Got a little too attached to one of the kids, and our new toy splattered him through a half dozen houses. Your aunt’s husband spawned him on someone, and took umbrage with an orphan having the audacity to kill him. I bought him as a useful tool, disguised as retribution.”
“Harold? No, can’t say that one sounds familiar. But still, an Apprentice killed an Evolved class? Yes, I can see how that might be worthwhile. With time and effort, that really could shape up to be useful. And if it makes that old monster happier, all the better.”