It was a breathtaking summer day, the sun casting its golden rays upon Bruno as he found himself caught in an unfathomable predicament. His mind struggled to comprehend how things had taken such a drastic turn.
Standing on the ornate paved square at the foot of the grand staircase adorned with pots of vibrant bushes and blooming flowers, he gazed up at his father's opulent summer mansion on the outskirts of Ra'meh. The city itself lay on the border of the Ard Al'ibil empire, a desert nation renowned for its abundant gold reserves.
Surrounded by his belongings, his thoughts swirled like a tempestuous spring, each question blossoming relentlessly. A magnificent fountain stood behind him, its cascading waters serenading his bewildered state. To the front of the estate stretched vast gardens, their entrance gate faintly visible in the distance.
"I'm deeply sorry, but it is your father's direct order," spoke the distinguished gentleman from the open doorway above. The butler, dressed in the impeccable attire of black and white, his bald head concealed beneath neatly combed gray hair, and his perfectly trimmed mustache added an air of sophistication.
Bruno adjusted his deep blue frock coat and brushed the dust from his elegant black trousers.
"I am well aware, Ernesto. It's just...unexpected. I never imagined he would disinherit me. Isn't it evident that I am not at fault? Someone has orchestrated this malicious scheme against me. I have never falsified any reports in my life. I meticulously cross-check everything to ensure the accuracy of our books. You know me."
"I do, young master. This must be a conspiracy orchestrated by your father's enemies," Ernesto replied, his face betraying concern.
"Indeed, Ernesto! But please explain to me why I am standing here, then?"
"I deeply regret to inform you, young master, that I cannot defy your father's orders," Ernesto replied, his expression filled with sorrow. It was evident that the elderly servant was tormented by the task he had been given, struggling to hold back tears.
"If only they would investigate this matter, they would surely discover my innocence in the forgery of those documents and the smuggling! I would never jeopardize our family's business! I have been involved since the age of fourteen, and there has never been a single misstep!"
"Your father had to expend a fortune to bury this incident. Any possibility of an investigation has been quashed," Ernesto explained, his voice laced with regret.
"This decision was unnecessary and hasty. Is my father blind? Why was I kept in the dark? Why did no one inform me? They all went directly to him! I would have handled this situation myself! Instead, he conceals everything, makes a rash decision, and now this?" Bruno exclaimed, his frustration and confusion intertwining with each word spoken.
"He is afraid of your uncle finding out what happened. He could attempt to take over the business. You have to understand his position. Master Vernon has gained a lot of influence in the family over the past two years," Ernesto explained, his voice tinged with concern.
"It's nothing compared to my achievements. I've multiplied our income in trade with Manjam Aldhahab. I've rectified all of Vernon's mistakes, all while being underage. He practically tarnished our reputation out there with his extravagant lifestyle. It seemed impossible, and yet I made it happen! Doesn't that count for anything in the eyes of the family?" Bruno retorted, his frustration evident in his tone.
"I am well aware, young master. Your father is in a state of panic, and he made his decision in a fit of anger. I am certain he will soon regret it and ask for your return. I have no doubt about that," Ernesto assured him.
"What is he even planning? He should have at least spoken to me! Does he want to make Jonatan the successor? I'm sure my stepmother has been whispering in his ear," Bruno mused aloud, his mind filled with unanswered questions.
"Give your father a few days. I am confident that he will calm down and reconsider his decision. He is a wise man," Ernesto urged, hoping to ease Bruno's distress.
"Not wise enough, apparently," The young master replied, his disappointment palpable.
"You have to forgive him," Ernesto pleaded. "He has been under immense stress. The business in the north is not going well."
"That's why I insisted on taking over the north. He could relax here, focusing on trading gold."
"You have to understand, he was afraid of losing face," The butler explained, attempting to provide some perspective.
"There is no shame in letting those more suited to the job take over. I have been studying for this since I was two years old! Can't he see the effort I have put into this?" Bruno's frustration spilled out in his words.
"You are angry, young master. Please calm down," Ernesto implored, hoping to soothe the young man's temper.
Bruno let out a deep sigh. "Oh, Ernesto, Ernesto... You are such a good man, but you are a fool when it comes to my father. You are too good for this family. They don't deserve you."
"Thank you for your kind words, young master," Ernesto replied humbly.
"Can you call me a carriage?" Bruno asked, sitting down on a nearby coffer, one among many scattered around containing his possessions, mainly books.
"I have already done so, young master," Ernesto answered.
"Thank you,"
"I shall keep you company until they arrive."
"No. You may go," Bruno continued, dismissing the old man's presence.
The man bowed, then left, closing the door behind.
"I know you are standing behind the door, Ernesto!” The young master said after waiting a moment, smiling to himself. „I will be just fine. You may leave!"
The door wings shuddered as a person leaning on them left, confirming Bruno's suspicion.
With that, he was finally left completely alone.
He savored the moment, relishing in the quiet before his departure. The minutes stretched on, and finally, he heard the familiar sound of the approaching horses.
The carriage that arrived was a simple yet elegant black vehicle with a roof, drawn by two black stallions. John, the carman, sat on the coach box, clad in his customary black coat and a matching top hat. A whip rested in one hand, while the other held the reins.
"Good morning, Master Bruno!" John greeted warmly as he brought the carriage to a halt. "Where should I take you, master?"
"Take me to 'Golden Pillows.' Then bring the rest of my belongings," Bruno replied, stepping into the carriage and settling onto the comfortable red couch. He closed the door behind him, enjoying the privacy it provided. Meanwhile, John diligently attended to packing some of Bruno's luggage onto the carriage.
Through the rectangular window, Bruno peered out at the magnificent building that had been his home until yesterday. The estate boasted a grandeur that was a testament to their thriving business. It had been renovated only two years ago, thanks to Bruno's success in sealing lucrative deals. His efforts had brought fame to the family. Even the king was aware of his accomplishments. And now, he had been cast out by his own father.
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"Ridiculous," Bruno muttered to himself, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. As the carriage departed, passing through the estate's gate, he watched the grandeur of his former home shrink into the distance, as the vehicle continued its journey.
It took approximately half an hour to reach the city walls. The guards made no attempt to halt the carriage as it passed through the gate. The unmistakable insignia on the carriage made it clear that it belonged to the esteemed Larmanie family.
Bruno peered through the window, his gaze fixated on the bustling streets and the people going about their lives. But his mind was far from the scenes unfolding before him. He was consumed by thoughts of unraveling the conspiracy that had led to his current predicament.
Uncle Vernon, though a likely suspect, lacked the intelligence and audacity required for such a scheme. Bruno suspected that the plot originated from within his own family, a possibility that couldn't be overlooked.
While there were external rivals who would benefit from his downfall, the prospect of an inside job seemed more plausible. It was easier for someone within the family to gain access to the reports and books, possibly with the help of a servant. There was a chance that individuals, working within rival businesses were involved, but an inside job seemed more plausible. In the end, the mastermind behind it all remained elusive.
His stepmother, driven by ambition, was a potential candidate. Placing herself and his younger stepbrother, Jonatan, as the heads of the family seemed like a good motive.
Their family branch had amassed considerable power, making even a young and intelligent boy like Jonatan a promising contender. However, his stepmother had never displayed much interest in assuming such a role.
"Do I have to travel all the way to the capital to find out?" Bruno pondered aloud. "No. Speaking with Jury Cooper will provide the answers I seek."
As the carriage came to a stop, John, the carman, opened the door, signaling their arrival. Bruno thanked him and handed him a silver coin as a gesture of gratitude.
"You are very generous, young master," John remarked.
"I know. I berate myself every time I part with money," Bruno replied. "Please bring my belongings here. I'll be renting a room for a couple of nights at this fine establishment."
Stepping out of the carriage, Bruno entered the elegant, two-story building connected to another structure. The main building housed a spacious hall with a mezzanine, while the adjoining structure consisted of guest rooms. Adorning the entrance, in gleaming gold paint, was the sign "Golden Pillows."
As he made his way inside, the inn's patrons fell silent, their gazes fixated on the young master's entrance.
"Young master Bruno!" a chubby, half-bald man with a majestic mustache called out from behind the counter. It was Mr. Aguacen, the bartender and owner of the establishment.
"Mister Aguacen," Bruno acknowledged with a slight bow, showing his respect for the esteemed proprietor.
"How can I serve you, Master Bruno? Did you come for breakfast?" Mr. Aguacen inquired with a hint of eagerness.
"No, I'll be staying in the city for a couple of days. I need a room, your finest," Bruno replied confidently.
Bruno gracefully walked past the occupied tables, reaching the counter where he immediately placed a generous sum of gold coins. It was a substantial amount, enough to secure the room for an entire year.
"But of course!" Mr. Aguacen exclaimed, his eyes fixated on the shiny gold coins that Bruno placed on the counter.
"My belongings will arrive soon. I want them brought to my room. I also want a light breakfast and a bottle of your finest wine," Bruno instructed.
"But of course!" Aguacen eagerly confirmed, his excitement palpable.
"I will also need a pen, inkwell, and paper. Some sealing wax and an errand boy. Please send them all to my room," Bruno added, releasing the coins from his grasp and allowing them to clatter onto the counter.
The sound of the coins falling resonated through the air as Aguacen swiftly snatched them up. He then retrieved a key from a hidden spot beneath the counter, ready to guide Bruno to his accommodations.
"I will show you the room, Master Bruno," Aguacen offered graciously.
"No need. I'll find it myself, but thank you," he declined politely, displaying his self-assured nature.
The key was handed over, and Bruno ascended the staircase, aware of the curious gazes that continued to follow his every move. As he reached the second floor, a short corridor led him to the connecting building. Stepping across the threshold, he quickly located the room matching the number on the key.
Upon entering, Bruno found himself in a space that exuded comfort and warmth. A large window adorned one wall, providing a captivating view of the bustling street below. The room boasted a magnificent four-poster bed. The size seemed purposely done as if the whole thing was specially made for wealthy men to bang young girls - multiple ones at the same time. A stately wardrobe, its polished surface beckoning to be filled with his meticulously tailored garments. Adjacent to it, a desk with a single padded chair stood ready for contemplation and correspondence. Two additional chairs flanked a small table, strategically positioned to capture the soft illumination pouring in from the nearby window. A solitary potted flower graced the windowsill, its delicate petals basking in the gentle rays of sunlight.
With a sense of purpose, Bruno unbuttoned his frock coat, feeling the weight of responsibility lift with each released button. He gracefully slid the coat from his shoulders, its luxurious fabric cascading onto the awaiting chair. Slowly, he approached the window, drawn by the allure of the outside world. With a gentle touch, he pulled the curtain aside, unveiling a captivating view of the lively street below.
As his gaze drifted over the vibrant cityscape, Bruno's mind brimmed with determination. The veil of mystery needed to be uncovered, and the truth revealed. He knew that a carefully crafted assortment of letters would serve as the catalyst. By exposing the orchestrator behind this treacherous scheme, Bruno vowed that justice would be meted out with unyielding severity.
The rest of the day unfolded in a flurry of purposeful activity. The young master dedicated himself to the task at hand, pouring his thoughts and intentions onto parchment. One by one, the letters took shape. One addressed to the unwavering captain of the guards, another to the discerning local judge, and a third to the esteemed city steward, Lord Fegedio. Sealing each letter with a mark of the family, Bruno entrusted them to a boy-runner graciously provided by Aguacen, ensuring their swift delivery to the recipients.
With his belongings delivered, unpacked, and comfortably arranged in the room, Bruno finally allowed himself a moment of respite. He reclined on the plush chair, engrossed in a book while savoring the taste of cold food and indulging in a glass of wine. The soothing ambiance of the room provided a temporary reprieve from the weight of his predicament.
After replenishing his spirit, Bruno embarked on a leisurely stroll through the bustling streets of the city. His presence was met with familiarity and warmth as vendors eagerly showcased their wares, hoping to catch the attention of the esteemed merchant. Engaging in conversations and perusing the local goods, Bruno relished the vibrant atmosphere, momentarily setting aside the intricacies of his current situation. He possessed steadfast confidence, knowing that his family's influence and his own remarkable accomplishments would eventually sway his father to beseech his return.
Nevertheless, Bruno's unwavering determination propelled him forward, refusing to relent until he uncovered the truth behind the web of deceit. As the sun began its descent, he made a detour to a small shrine dedicated to Udaanah, the goddess of luck and trade. The simplicity of the shrine was juxtaposed by the nearby altar devoted to Sarnae, the goddess of mercy, underscoring the duality of fortune and adversity within the realm of human existence.
Pulling out a gleaming gold coin, Bruno paused, allowing his thoughts to crystallize into fervent prayer. With a flick of his wrist, the coin cascaded into the water-filled basin, joining the chorus of hopeful supplications.
Contemplative and filled with resolve, he retraced his steps back to his rented chamber.
As darkness settled, Bruno sought solace in the embrace of his bed. However, rest eluded him. In the silence of the room, where once the melodies of work and planning resonated, an unsettling stillness pervaded. Frustration seeped into his thoughts as he yearned for the familiar flurry of productivity.
Suddenly, a gentle rustling sound emanated from behind the door, breaking the nocturnal quietude.
Alert and instinctively cautious, Bruno swiftly slipped out of bed and navigated towards the window. Bathed in the soft glow of starlight, he ignited an olive lamp, casting an intimate radiance upon the room. With a hint of trepidation, he called out, his voice a low murmur cutting through the dimness.
"Who's there?"
A hushed reply emerged from the other side of the door, "It's me, Aguacen," the owner of the inn whispered.
Curiosity piqued, Bruno cautiously opened the door, inviting the innkeeper into the sanctum of his temporary refuge.
„Did something happen?” The young master inquired, his voice laced with a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Yes, and I'm very sorry for that," Aguacen replied.
Before Bruno could react, a shiver shot through his body as a cold, sharp blade pressed against his neck. The sudden intrusion caught him off guard, his senses failing to detect the stealthy assassin who had infiltrated his room through the window. Time seemed to slow, the world around him fading into a haze as darkness encroached upon his consciousness. With an eerie calmness, he was gently lowered to the ground, cradled by the unyielding embrace of his killer, his fate sealed by the hands of this unknown man.