Contracts are a fundamental part of Begonia that has spanned generations and cultivated through time.

For their ally ship, it seems as if the Strogameer’s have used monetary value to urge people to their sides to varying degrees.

Each Head would use different tactics and not all proved useful. For example, Rain used blackmail to subjugate the eight ruling houses while Wasiostahili offered lucrative deals such as lands and other business ventures.

However, Wasiostahili offered these things when presenting his children for marriage. It wasn’t unusual for a Strogameer to go about arranging things in such a way but his mistake was offering them to noble families.

Though they were noble themselves, they were infamous for hardly allowing their children to marry other nobility.

Wasiostahili, in one of his many ventures, offered one of his daughters in exchange for an alliance, as well as a way to move up in the nobility. He offered her to a measly Baron House called Tapferyashujaa.

They were offered several lands and in return they would defend the Strogameer’s. This is where most of the Tapferyashujaa’s wealth comes from.

Contracts are difficult to break but certain authority or loopholes can sever them.

…

Old Fang sits across her, lounging in the rust colored seats. A smirk spreads across his face, and mirth illustrates the rest of his visage. In other words, he is far too relaxed.

“You’re angry.”

The old man comments.

“No.”

“I’m an innocent woman who has nothing left.”

She thinks, and doesn’t dwell too much on the perceived image of herself.

“Nothing slips past you.”

“How about I order you a drink to cheer you up?”

He pushes himself off the seat and leaves without her input. So, it seems like he has taken control of the situation. Originally their meeting was arranged weeks ago but he had blown them off too many times for her to count.

Now he shows up and keeps inserting control over all aspects of the situation. However, she refuses to confront him at the moment.

Instead she watches as he takes his sweet time conversing with the patrons and doesn’t return with their drinks until half an hour has passed. However, he brings an unusual sight with him.

“Ah Anmutig, this is one of my kingdom buddies, Pferd. I’ve thought to introduce him to a lovely lady such as yourself.”

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Pferd is an imposing man that’s somehow taller than her. His muscular physique makes her question whether or not he can break a man in half.

His dark skin glows in the low light of the club, but jagged scars sweep across his arms. Looking up, she can see that his hair is long and wild, though the ponytail its trapped in does nothing to stagnate its sheer length.

However, his eyes are the most telling thing about him, being a sea green hue that shines with a cold sheen.

Obviously he hails from the kingdom up north, Vetursigra. Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised that a Northman is in the Lower District, considering they’re near the poorly maintained border. Maybe the patrolman have been killed by the constant skirmishes.

“Greetings, Pferd. It’s lovely to meet you.”

His eyes widen, but his expression quickly becomes stoic again.

“Likewise.”

What is the point in introducing her to a kingdom dweller? Does Old Fang wish to send a picture of this encounter to accuse her of treason?

It’s not illegal to converse with kingdom dwellers, but the implications of the empires laws are often ignored in these cases, never-mind the societal repercussions.

Still, his angle is a clever one.

Nevertheless she is the one to open her mouth first.

“Old Fang, you are a soldier.”

“Heh, obviously. Why state the obvious?”

“Soldiers tend to see death no matter the circumstances. Tell me, Fang, are soldiers essential to the Empire?”

They give her a strange look.

“Soldiers are necessary in all nations.”

“They’re pawns on a chess board. Armies will lead kings to victory while the soldiers fall.”

“Careful Anmutig. This is a place that’s crawling with soldiers.”

“I’ll be ambushed either way. So, tell me Old Fang, does death look the same?”

“You should’ve asked your brother.”

“I can’t ask a dead man.”

He throws his head back and bellows, louder than the speakers vibrating throughout the room.

“You believe he’s dead now, don’t you? Trying to intimidate me into giving you information on his whereabouts.”

“Does it look the same? Have you ever seen a man slowly dying of sickness to the point of delirium? Or the woman who can’t lift herself from her deathbed. Do they resemble those who’ve been shot?”

Anmutig is shouting now and the rest of the club turns towards them. Old Fang rises above her, and a dark look passes over his eyes.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? You’re just a spoiled brat who can’t get a real job. You’d crumble in the army.”

“They say Chumadolch was a fine warrior, though I wonder if he saw a corpse twitch.”

If silence was a flood, the bar would drown.

“A soldier, warrior, same thing really. I never met him but I’m sure you saw a glimpse of him, Old Fang. After all our families held a contract.”

No one said a word though their jaws dropped in shock, or perhaps horror.

“You dare lie-

“It’s not a secret. I’m a Strogameer and your family was allied with us. Which brings me to the main point.”

She turns before continuing in a sleek manner.

“Since the Strogameer’s are no more you’re free from the contract. Isn’t that great?”

Anmutig’s smile was wide and showed teeth.

“My great great grandfather Wasiostahili bought lands from the Regis, but since my House is no more, the law states it should return to the reigning Regis.”

“You cannot-

“I only found out today that this is what the law states. I cannot be blamed. After all, the Regis just wants his lands back. Wasiostahili wrote in the contract that should his House fall, return them to his or her majesty.”

She puts on a sorrowful expression and leans into him.

“My House fell officially fifty years ago. You are aware that the contract also states if all living blood with the name Strogameer pass it should dissolve.”

“Only my mother has that last name, but she’s dead, isn’t she Old Fang?”

“Do not play with me, child.”

“You don’t have a choice. You can kill me but the land is still Omari’s. Do you really wish to end up in prison? Or executed?”

Utter dread passes over his face and this is when he crumbles.

“I’ll tell you where they-

“Oh we are far past that point Old Fang.”