Chapter 648: Otto’s Request
The king’s city was coming apart at the seams.
Yorko didn’t follow politics as a rule — it was tedious and usually irrelevant to the things he actually cared about — but even he couldn’t mistake the atmosphere that had settled over the city since Appen Moya took the throne. Residences were broken in and searched at all hours. Taverns ran low on their usual gossip and overflowed with a different kind: border rebellions, restless lords, troops moving without clear explanation. The foreign commodities at the exhibition had thinned considerably, and Yorko’s own caravan had quietly suspended the slave trades.
According to Hill, Appen had not only continued importing slaves from the Kingdom of Wolfheart but had also begun liberating them from slavery. A fine deed, taken alone. Unfortunately it threw a complicated wrench into Roland’s plan.
Yorko was unmoved by the trade disruption. The caravan wasn’t his investment — it was Denise’s arrangement — and the commissions he earned from it were comfortable rather than essential. As long as he remained the Kingdom of Graycastle’s ambassador, business opportunities would come. They always did.
He’d actually made real progress on the alliance.
Three days after Appen’s coronation, the new king summoned him to the palace and asked, in crisp and businesslike terms, about the details of the alliance agreement. When Yorko confirmed that the church had suffered a decisive defeat at Coldwind Ridge, Appen’s manner shifted and he pressed his fingerprint onto the agreement without delay.
Yorko had felt, walking out of the palace, like a man who’d crossed a difficult stretch of terrain and could finally rest. The first task His Majesty had assigned him, accomplished at last.
The feeling lasted through dinner.
That night, Hill said: “It’s too late. I’m afraid this alliance has lost its purpose.”
Yorko put down his cup. “Explain.”
“His Majesty won’t appreciate how the new king treats witches. We’ve seen this before — with Timothy.” Hill’s voice was level, factual. “You may want to keep that parchment as a souvenir.”
Yorko knew Roland’s preferences on the subject of witches were strong and well-known. He simply didn’t believe any king would actually break a formal treaty with a neighboring nation over it. Appen was the ruler of the Kingdom of Dawn. He could manage his own kingdom as he saw fit. The witches within his borders were an internal affair, and nobody — however fond of witches they might be — had any real power to intervene in a sovereign’s domestic decisions.
Still, he found himself thinking: pretty and remarkable as witches were, how could they possibly be what the church said they were?
He shook his head, pushed the thought away, and reminded himself that his role was to carry messages, not to shape foreign policy. The afternoon was still his. He’d call on Denise, decide on the evening from there.
Then the eldest son of the Luoxi Family knocked on his door.
Yorko’s optimism dissolved on the spot. Otto Luoxi had never arrived at his door with good news. Every visit brought fresh complications: warnings that altered everything, intelligence that upended plans, news with a long and inconvenient tail. If Hill hadn’t insisted on maintaining the contact, Yorko would have stopped answering Otto’s knocks some time ago.
He sent for Hill, showed Otto to the living room, and waited.
“News from the palace?” Yorko asked.
“Not this time.” Otto poured himself tea as a matter of course and settled comfortably into the chair. “You have plans tonight?”
“Yes.” Yorko lied reflexively.
“Cancel them. I need a favor.” Otto produced a black envelope and set it on the table.
Inside: an invitation card, stamped with a seal of a pitch-black dragon’s head — the same design as the pattern on a gold royal.
Yorko read the letter and shook his head. “You want me to accompany you to an exhibition. I have no money to bid on anything.”
“You won’t need your own money.” Otto leaned forward. “By helping me, you help your king.”
Hill, seated to Yorko’s left, said: “Tell us more.”
Otto lowered his voice. “I’ve learned there will be a witch for sale at this auction.”
Yorko felt the familiar sense of a door closing on a pleasant room. He could see exactly where this was going. The new king was actively hunting witches — the last thing Yorko needed was to be found in possession of one. “Aren’t these merchants worried about angering Appen Moya?”
“City of Glow has corners his arm doesn’t reach.” Otto shrugged.
“Who runs this exhibition? Rats?”
“They couldn’t afford to host something like this.” Hill answered before Otto could. “Rats don’t have this kind of capital.”
“The organizers call themselves the Black Money,” Otto confirmed. “They run underground commerce — a large portion of it slave trading, but not the ordinary kind.”
“There’s a public slave market in the outer city,” Yorko pointed out.
“You’ll understand the difference when you get there.”
Yorko leaned back and asked what he actually needed to know: “Can Denise Payton come?”
“No. The Black Money’s selection of guests is strict. She’s a reputable merchant but not well-known enough.” Otto said it without apology. “The invitation is for you alone.”
“Do you want to purchase the witch yourself?” Hill turned back to Otto.
“No — Mr. Ambassador does.” Otto pointed at Yorko. “The Luoxi Family is too closely associated with the royal family; if I bid, it draws unwanted attention. But it makes perfect sense for the Graycastle ambassador to want a witch for his personal use. I’ll cover the payment. You receive her, hide her among your delegation, and transport her to His Majesty Roland’s domain via the trade route you established previously. A witch among cargo — no one will look twice.”
“The slave trade is suspended,” Hill noted. “We don’t know when it resumes.”
“She goes as cargo in your fleet, not as a declared slave.”
Yorko said nothing, searching for a polite way to refuse.
“Why does this matter to you?” Hill asked Otto.
Otto hesitated. “An old friend.” He seemed to choose the words carefully. “She’s a witch. I believed she’d died — fallen from a cliff. Later, I encountered her alive, in the Kingdom of Graycastle’s western region. His Majesty Roland once said to me that every witch is precious, that they shouldn’t die because of the church’s slanders.” He stopped, then: “I want her to have companions of her own kind.”
Yorko was still composing his refusal when Hill reached across and gripped Otto’s hand.
“I understand.” Hill looked at Yorko. “Leave it to Mr. Ambassador.”
Chapter 648: Otto’s Request
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
The king’s city of the Kingdom of Dawn was currently undergoing extreme political turbulence. Even Yorko, who did not normally partake in politics, could easily perceive the underlying tension.
Since the new king ascended the throne, residences had been constantly broken in and searched by soldiers. Rumors about rebellions of lords at the border remained afloat in taverns. Foreign commodities on the exhibition had largely reduced, and even Yorko’s caravan had suspended the slave trades.
According to Hill, Appen Moya had not only taken in slaves from the Kingdom of Wolfheart but had also liberated them from slavery. It was a good deed, but unfortunately, the act impeded Roland’s plan.
Yorko did not worry the slightest about the interruption of the business, for he did not see any potential losses from it. The cavaran was provided by Denise, and there was no overhead cost of trading in slaves. He did not really care about that little money he had earned from the trading. As long as he was still the ambassador of the Kingdom of the Graycastle, sooner or later he would find the other profitable business opportunities.
On the other hand, there had been some progress in the formation of the alliance.
Three days after the coronation of Appen, Yorko was summoned to the palace and was inquired about the details of the alliance agreement by the new king. After Appen learned that the church had suffered a serious defeat at Coldwind Ridge, he delightedly put his fingerprint on the agreement.
Yorko was pleased that after numerous restless nights, the first task His Majesty had assigned to him had, at length, officially come to end.
His good mood, however, did not last long. All his self-complacency was blown away that very night by an airy comment of Hill’s.
“It was too late. I’m afraid this alliance has lost its due efficacy,” his guard said. “Besides, His Majesty may not like the way the new king treats witches. Timothy, who carried the same hostile attitude, was the best example. You may keep the parchment for yourself as a souvenir.”
It was a well-known fact that Roland Wimbledon liked witches. However, Yorko did not think Roland would be that defiant and stupid as to break the deal with the neighbor because of them.
Even if His Majesty dreaded the attitude of the King of Dawn toward witches, he could do nothing about it. After all, the Moyas had been reigning over the Kingdom of Dawn for generations, and Appen, as the ruler of the country, could manage his realm however he liked. Nobody could ever interfere in their domestic affairs.
Having said that, Yorko still sided with his old friend. He wondered as pretty and remarkable as witches were, how they could possibly be demons’ minions.
Yorko swayed his head, trying to shake off these trifles that had been bothering him. He was merely an ambassador, whose sole duty was to take messages for His Majesty. As to political commotions and changes in the situation, they had nothing to do with him.
As he still got some time, Yorko planned to first meet Denise and then decide his leisure activities tonight.
He was just about to set out when the eldest son of the Luoxi Family suddenly pounded the door.
Yorko regarded this unexpected visit as evil forebodings. This man had never brought any good news to him. Otto had earlier claimed that the information he carried could determine whether the Kingdom of Graycastle would preserve or devastate. Later, he had whined about the disastrous change in the new king’s character. Every piece of news he had brought had delivered
Yorko a headache. If Hill had not insisted on keeping in touch with Otto Luoxi, Yorko would have simply chosen to ignore his presence.
He sent for Hill at once and ushered Otto into the living room.
“You’ve got news from the palace for His Majesty again?”
“No, not for now.” Otto poured himself some tea as a matter of course and asked, “You’ve got plans tonight?”
“Yes.” Yorko lied. He hoped Otto would back off. Denise would bestow him a romantic evening, whereas Otto would only give him a fitful night.
“Put it off then. I want to ask you a favor.” Otto handed him a black envelope.
Yorko opened it and found an invitation card with a seal of a pitch-black dragon head on it, one identical to the pattern on a gold royal.
After reading the letter, Yorko shook his head. “You want me to go to the exhibition with you? I don’t have money to help you bid.”
In fact, Denise had taken him to this kind of exhibition a few times. The commodities were indeed of extreme rarity, but their prices were also astonishingly high. A bid of 1,000 gold royals was fairly common in an auction. Yorko wondered where these wealthy merchants had collected all their money from.
Otto drained the teacup. “You don’t need to worry about money. By helping me, you’re actually helping your king.”
“Tell me about it.” Hill, who seated himself next to Yorko, put in.
Otto answered in a low voice, “I’ve heard that there’ll be a witch for sale in this auction.”
“Hell.” Yorko cursed within himself. He knew it was not going to be good news. Everybody knew that the new king was now hunting down witches. If it was at a normal time, he would definitely tag along with pleasure. At
present, however, he would rather stay away from witches. “Aren’t these people worried that they would infuriate King Appen Moya?”
Yorko left the rest of his words unsaid. ” The three families shall unite together and fully support the king. It appears that you oppose his order.”
“Although City of Glow was the Moyas’ domain, there are still some places his arm can’t reach.” Otto shrugged.
“Is the exhibition hosted by Rats?”
“They won’t be Rats if they’re financially capable of hosting this auction,” Hill replied nonchalantly.
“You’re correct.” Otto gave an approving nod. “The exhibition isn’t that formal but is still organized by some of the most powerful local merchants. They call them the Black Money. These people often conduct underground businesses, a big part of which is slave trading.”
Yorko asked, “There’s a slave market right in the outer city. Why do they have to go underground?”
“You’ll know when you get there.”
“Can the Paytons join us?” Yorko’s interest was now aroused, but he did not want to blindly follow Otto’s instructions.
“Are you talking about the businesswoman you usually hang out with? No, she can’t,” Otto said flatly. “The Black Money has the strictest selection of their guests. She’s a relatively reputable merchant, but she isn’t well-known enough to be eligible for the exhibition.”
“Do you want to buy the witch?” Hill turned the subject.
“Not me, but Mr. Ambassador does.” Otto pointed to Yorko. “The Luoxi Family is too close to the royal family. It’ll attract unwelcome attention if I bid on her. However, it’s quite understandable that the Ambassador of the Graycastle wishes to take a witch as his bed wench. I’ll take care of the payment. I hope you can transport her to His Majesty Roland’s domain via
the trade route you’ve opened before. Nobody will raise suspicions if she’s hidden among the delegation.”
“But the slave trade has suspended.” Hill spread out his hands. “We don’t know when the business will restore.”
“You can hide the witch in your fleet among other cargos.”
“Why do you want to do that?”
“Because of… an old friend.” Otto hesitated for a moment. “She’s a witch. I thought she fell off the cliff and died, but I later met her in the Western Region of the Kingdom of Graycastle. His Majesty Roland Wimbledon once told me that every witch was precious and that they shouldn’t die because of the church’s malicious slander and false accusations. I also want her to have some companions.”
“Well, with respect to this matter, I need to…” While Yorko was still rummaging for excuses to decline the request, Hill Fawkes grasped Otto’s hand.
“I see. Leave it to Mr. Ambassador.”