Chapter 564: The Ambassador of the Kingdom of Graycastle
The noise hit Yorko the moment the coach entered the city gates.
He parted the curtain and leaned out. Both sides of the road were alive with commerce — shop fronts with tables and chairs spilling into the street, goods spread directly on the cobblestones, vendors calling out prices and virtues in overlapping voices. The long avenue looked less like a thoroughfare and more like a market that had simply refused to confine itself to a designated space.
Eagle City, he thought — and then caught himself. Eagle City was ash. The Queen of Clearwater had burned it to nothing, and the tall pale buildings rising in the middle distance here were something different, something larger. He tucked the comparison away.
“Your opinion of the king’s city of the Kingdom of Dawn?” The woman behind him spoke without opening her eyes.
“The city of merchants, as advertised. Even peddlers on the main street — in Graycastle, the patrol would strip them bare. Only the Fjords competes with you, I think.”
The woman snorted. “The Fjords ports themselves on buying cheap in one place and selling dear in another. Their only export is salted fish.”
“Of course. You are the superior commercial mind by any measure.” Yorko turned around with a smile.
“And you are not bad yourself, Mr. Ambassador.” Denise Payton placed her hands on his shoulders, returning the smile with the ease of someone who received compliments the way most people received weather.
She was perhaps thirty-five, with light brown hair pinned up and one strand dyed a deep purple — a detail Yorko had found jarring at first and now found natural. As a noblewoman traveling unaccompanied, she had been receptive to all kinds of conversation from the first hour. Yorko had needed two days to establish friendship and one carefully selected bottle of perfume to establish the rest. They had been in the same coach for the better part of a week since.
“What trades best in the City of Glow right now?” he asked.
“Business, is it? You plan to stay that long?”
“His Majesty’s wishes may keep me here ten years. Twenty. As a city of merchants, I had better become one — as you advised me.” He clapped his hands. “Good nobles are good merchants.”
“Good nobles are good merchants,” Denise confirmed. She leaned in and lowered her voice with the practiced intimacy of a woman who understood that proximity was its own currency. “Two categories dominate. First: quality everyday goods with a premium feel — crystal glassware, spectacles, fine perfumes, luxury fabrics. Second: novelties, which have no fixed price. Worth whatever the buyer decides they are worth. The city holds trade exhibitions every weekend, tiered by entrance requirement. But something new has overtaken both of those recently.”
She let the pause sit.
“The slave trade,” she said.
“Slaves? That’s nothing unusual for bulk cargo.”
“I said recently.” She smiled at his predictable confusion. “The Church has nearly swallowed the Kingdom of Wolfheart. Refugees flood into the Kingdom of Dawn by the thousands. You only need to feed them until they reach the market. No capital required. Merchants have been racing to the border since the news broke — once the war ends, the supply dries up.”
“But you traveled to the Graycastle border,” Yorko said. “Not the Wolfheart border.”
Denise lifted one shoulder. “I have no taste for trading people. Especially women.”
“Leave it alone entirely,” Yorko said, settling an arm around her. “No capital doesn’t mean no risk. Refugees become mobs. When they do, the slave traders find themselves with very complicated cargo.”
“You have genuine commercial instincts,” she said, covering a laugh.
At that moment the coachman called back: “My lady — the palace district.”
Yorko kissed her well and climbed out. She watched from the window with an eyebrow raised.
“Must you really go?”
“Official business. I’m afraid I must.” He straightened his coat and waved. “Something tells me we’ll meet again soon.”
“Sooner than you think,” she said, and drew the curtain.
The embassy delegation had been following the caravan at a careful distance. Hill Fawkes reached him first, wearing the expression of a man who has been waiting longer than he found acceptable.
“Magic Hand by reputation indeed.” Hill shook his head with what might have been admiration. “What did you spend those days discussing?”
“Business. What else?” Yorko began walking toward the palace gate. “Hoist the Hightower banner and present our documents. Let the Kingdom of Dawn know the Ambassador of Graycastle has arrived.”
Hill fell into step beside him. “And then?”
Yorko glanced at the towers ahead — pale stone, finely carved, the particular grandeur of old money that had nothing left to prove.
“Then we get to work.”
Chapter 564: The Ambassador of the Kingdom of Graycastle
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Noise suddenly filled the coach, as it had arrived in the City of Glow.
Yorko could not help but open the curtain to have a look. There were all kinds of shop fronts along both sides of the road. Some of the shop owners had erected tents in the front and offered some tables and chairs for the people to have a rest there. Some had their goods laid out on the ground, stood beside them and cried out to attract business. The long street looked just like a market.
For a moment, he felt as if he had come to the Eagle City which developed from a market,
But he soon thought of the fact that Queen of Clearwater had already burned the Eagle City to the ground. And the shape of the lofty buildings in a distant place also suggested that this city was large and different.
“What do you think of the king’s city of the Kingdom of Dawn?” A woman behind him asked drowsily.
“It’s indeed the city of merchants. Even peddler is allowed on the main street. If it’s in the Kingdom of Graycastle, the patrol team will milk them dry. I’m afraid only the Fjords can compete with your city.” Yorko exclaimed in admiration.
“The Fjords?” The women snorted. “They’re just porters who transport goods to remote places and sell them, taking advantage of price variations in different markets. The islands have nothing to sell except for cheap salted fish.”
“Of course, you’re the most brilliant merchant,” Yorko said and turned around, smiling.
“You’re not bad yourself, my ambassador,” the woman smiled and said, putting her hands on his shoulders.
This woman was a noble merchant Yorko met in a border city of the Kingdom of Dawn. Different from the Kingdom of Graycastle, most nobles in this kingdom had their own business and a rich merchant had a status like a noble since the wealth was comparable to noble titles here. The Kingdom of Dawn was also the main producer of agricultural products and the biggest exporter of textiles among the four kingdoms. Yorko had crammed for his job as an ambassador, studying the history and customs of this neighboring country for a long time before he set out. He knew that playing dumb now and then could please women but being an idiot who knew nothing would not.
The female merchant’s name was Denise Payton. She was about 35 or 36, but still had beautiful skin that was smooth and full of elasticity. She did her light brown hair up, and a wisp of her hair was dyed purple. Yorko found it quite weird when he first saw her, but now he thought it quite nice when he got used to it. As an unattended noblewoman who went on a long journey, Denise was naturally open to all kinds of fun.
Yorko spent only two days to become a good friend with her and then won her affection with a bottle of perfume. They became attached to each other after a one night stand and traveled together after that. Denise even pulled him into her own luxury coach.
“Oh, yeah, what’s the best business in the City of Glow now?”
“Why? You want to do business here?”
“Because of my old friend, no, the respected king Wimbledon, I’d probably stay here for a long time, 10 years or even 20 years. As it’s the city of merchants, I’d better be one of them, just like what you’ve told me…”
“Good nobles are good merchants,” Dennis added.
“Yes, good nobles are good merchants. In the Kingdom of Graycastle, an ambassador was equivalent to an earl in status. Having such a title, how can I not do business?” Yorko said while clapping his hands and smiling.
“That’s right. The most popular goods on the market of the king’s city can be divided into two types. One type is the utensils that you used every day but not the ordinary things, such as crystal glasses, spectacles, perfumes and fine fabrics. The second type is the novelties. There’re no standard prices for these kinds of things. How much you can earn depends on how much your customers like them. Trade exhibitions will be held every weekend in the city. Exhibitions of different classes have different entrance requirements.” Denise whispered in Yorko’s ear.
“It sounds interesting!” Yorko said and his eyes brightened.
“It’s indeed interesting. You never know what you’ll see at the exhibitions. If you’re interested, I’ll take you to the top one, but there’s another business that has overtaken those two types recently.” Denise paused momentarily to arouse his interest and then continued, “The slave trade.”
“Slaves? Aren’t they very common for cargo?” he was dazed for a moment and asked.
“I said ‘recently’. A business that requires no capital is always the best. You’ve heard that the church had almost conquered the Kingdom of Wolfheart? Thousands of refugees flock into the Kingdom of Dawn. You can take them to the market and sell them out to make a lot of money. As long as you offer them food. Now, many merchants have gone to the border to make money in the refugee tide, since when the war is over, there’ll be no more chances.” The female merchant explained.
“But why did you go the border of the Kingdom of Graycastle?” Yorko asked.
“I don’t like trading people… especially women.” Denise shrugged.
“So, leave it alone. No capital doesn’t mean no risk. When the refugees become mobs, it’ll be a real headache for the slave traders.” Yorko said,
holding her in his arms.
“You seem to really know something about business,” she said while covering her mouth.
Just at that moment, the coachman in front of their carriage said, “My lady, we’ve arrived at the palace district.”
“Let’s call it a day.” Yorko kissed her hard and continued, “Our time on the road was so sweet though it was very short. I’ll bear it in my heart.”
“Won’t you come to my place and have a rest?” Denise said while ogling him.
“No, I have to go. I’m here on official business.”
Yorko had to refuse her. Knowing that she was a married woman, he did not want to get beat up if her husband found out something when he visited Denise at their place. Yorko hurriedly hopped off the coach and waved to her, saying, “I feel we’re going to meet again.”
“I also think so and maybe we’re going to meet sooner than you expect,” she said while raising her eyebrow.
“Huh?”
Denise drew the curtain and left with a smile.
Seeing Yorko got off the coach, the emissary delegation that had followed behind the caravan now walked slowly towards him. “You really deserve the name of Magic Hand. What did you talk about for all these days?!” Hill Fawkes came up and exclaimed.
Hill was assigned by His Majesty Roland to work as Yorko’s guard. He did not look like a military man at all, but even Yorko had heard that Hill had outstanding meritorious achievements before. “Business, of course. What else could I talk about with a merchant?” Yorko replied.
In fact, business was just a subject to start a conversation with the woman. Knowing what made a woman light up was the quickest way to get closer to her and Yorko could always sell what a woman bought, no matter it was language or a gift.
“What’re you going to do now?”
“Hoist the flag of Hightower and hand in the document. Tell them the ambassador of the Kingdom of Graycastle has come!” Yorko said with an air of contentment.