Capital (2)
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Sunlight beat down the morning cold, leaving behind fresh midday air in its wake. A brick paved path wide enough for four large carriages side by side lay in front of Avery. It led up the hill's incline towards the city gates. They were large wooden doors braced with steel along with engraved runes. Two lines formed on the right side of the road. One for carriages, the other for pedestrians. The far left was four exit traffic while the center had been reserved for important or emergency carriages that could forgo the lines and quickly enter the capital.

There were many different carriages ranging from passenger to merchant models. Some were in pristine condition while others appeared to have seen long roads. To their right, the people were even more diverse. Beast-men, dwarfs, humans, and a few other races mingled while they waited their turn. Some wore warm layered clothing, while some worn light armors such as leather or steel chest breastplates and gauntlets. Some were heavy mage robes while holding ornate staffs. Other mages dressed in light armor with simple staffs.

Desmond sat on the right edge of the coaches seat while Avery sat between him and a barrel-chested old man. He was a farmer, or so he told them, and he was heading towards the morning market in the Trader's Plaza in town. Avery and the farmer made small talk as the line slowly moved time to time as they were inspected. The people on foot moved along quicker with simple identification checks. The checks were mostly surface, security theater, aimed at deterring criminals. The carriage check was only checking for illegal goods and wanted men.

Why were they on this carriage? It started earlier when they found out that Consort Loralei only brought one royal carriage, something she apparently made a habit to harass the Empress. That left two options for the stranded three. Take a military carriage or walk. The wyverns weren't allowed into town unless there was an emergency. So if the Empress had taken a military carriage, she would have to be identified at the Gate. Being a 'ruler' she didn't have identification on her. Thus this would have made a scene while they confirmed via a noble.

It was a round-a-bout way of slapping her face, something she apparently loved to do when presented a suitable chance. That's not to say a carriage wouldn't come from the castle, it was that it would be almost nightfall by the time it did happen. Neither the military carriage nor walking would suffice for Empress Maria though. She may have let most of that girl's slights against her go, but she wouldn't allow her to publicly shame her. So she stayed back for the eventual arrival of a royal carriage.

Desmond had half the mind to stay with her. Contend to stay cozy in the military base among the lesser dragons. He didn't often get the chance to study them up close, saying "The academy thinks books are good enough for everything." Avery, on the other hand, was already set to see the capital. Either by walking or carriage. Unfortunately, Empress Maria wouldn't allow him to go in a military carriage. Strictly forbidding it. Avery wasn't there for the whole conversation, but she only had forbidden use of the military's carriage. Not a farmers.

Granted, Avery understood what Empress Maria was trying to do. She neither cared for the politics nor cared for pride their pride. So she made a slight compromise. Maria forbid the military carriage and Desmond wasn't in shape to walk. Thus when she asked around if there were any other carriages, the logistic soldiers mentioned the farmer who would pass by with supplies on his way to the capital within an hour. And he did come within the hour, but he wouldn't take them for free. His payment?

Company and conversation of a beautiful young lady, Avery. No in a dirty way. A friendly way of keeping him occupied on the short way there.

In the end, they made it to the capital with the farmer named Ian Rivva, a pleasant old man who'd been widowed at the age of fifty. Living by himself just a few miles from the capital. He was a retired soldier, one who'd seen war and pain. He meant to settle with his wife and raise 'hundreds of children' birthed from his 'mortal goddess'. A sweet old, yet she was taken from him after the birth of their first daughter. Avery turned to Desmond, with a questionative look. "What...?" With the same look, he stared back. She leaned in. " Couldn't someone save her with healing magic...?". Desmond only looked at her in sheer shock.

Avery watched the gears in his head turn, his expressions changing by the second. "Ah... Yes... There was that.." As he remembered her background, of course, she wouldn't have known!" Magic nowadays is different from your era.." He cleared his throat. "Magic is hard for the common people. People have to specialize in it like all other professions. Think of it as a craft, it takes time, money, and most of all dedication. I don't know how it was before, all I know is that normal humans aren't as... Diverse as before. "

This time it was Avery's turn to be shocked!

What's with that bullshit?!

"How do you guys heal yourselves then?!" Avery's voice raised an octave. "We use potions young one! Like those priest spells, but not as good yet not so expensive!" Ian huffed out having overheard Avery. "Those damned priests wanted five gold coins!" That sweet old man suddenly scowled. Though the years had taken his young and his strength, that scowl belonged to a battle-hardened veteran. Avery could picture it if he trimmed his beard, it could probably look like a wise general.

" Give gold coins?!" This time, Desmond spoke up. "Damn right! that was a whole year pay in the army!" He calmed down slowly before adding more " I didn't have any coins left after I purchased the farm that year..." Avery ended being pushed from the conversation as they both ranted about Alistair's church. She only understood that the church liked to upcharge for healing services to fund some weird lavish lifestyles.

Being fed up with the dark discussion, Avery interjected" Enough of the topic, you both are ruining the mood." The displeasure was apparent in her tone. Both of them quieted, but the conversation had left a sour taste in all their mouths. So they all just stayed quiet until it was their turn to be inspected.

Two guards stood guard in full suited iron armor. Each held iron spears as tall as themselves. Each stood on each side of the door. One, a large plumb black man with a full salt-n-pepper beard that reached his chest. The other was a lighter, yet tanned man. Only noticeable by the open-faced helmets their wore. "Oi, ya lazy man, wer' ya' pick up these too beauties!?" The plumb guard's voice rose jokingly towards Ian." Don't worry about it ya' old fool!" They both had a quick, light, laugh. After they exchanged their oddly insulting, yet endearing greetings. Ian got to business.

"Picked these young ones from the base below, Mr. Roddintin vouched for them." Ian pulled out a letter from behind him in the cargo area - handing it to the guard. The guard quickly scanned the letter before his expression cramped. The skinnier guard looked at him curiously. "Sir Genns, what's wrong...?" His voice was timid, he sounded almost Desmond age. The plumb guard, Sir Genns, handed the letter back with shaky hands.

"No search... Go on Ian and... Please don't offend the lords next to you..." His voice sounded nervous. Ian may have been old, but him having been a soldier, understanding how to treat lords was ingrained in him. He quickly straightened his posture before he weakly smiled at the Avery.

No wonder they were good looking kids! They were lordlings!

Unless one reached a high level, the only way to get such good looks were either to be born nobility! Of course, there were good looking commoners, but most of them ended up losing their looks to stress and hard working conditions around their late teens. Nobility would have less stress, well their children, when it came to such matters. Reaching higher levels, like level thirty, one would start to be purified by mana, regaining their youthful looks.

Desmond waved his hand as if used to it " I'm of nobility. The lovely girl is just high level." He didn't go into specifics. Princes and level one-thousands weren't as common as dragons of course! The old farmer was already strained to hear they were referred to as lords. "Just treat us the same. Don't act distant grandpa!" Avery spoke to him like a loving grandchild with a dazzling smile. Both the guards were enraptured. The old man - having lost such desires - thought she'd make a good bride to the man next to her. Desmond's heart's skipped a beat, even after seeing the side of her face.

...

After exchanging promises to visit his farm in the future, Avery and Desmond parted from Ian. They walked down the bustling capital main street. Inns, shops, and other establishments dotted each side. Carriages run up and down the middle of the street while people walked to the sides. It was rather well organized, leaving the carriages to streamline their way towards their destinations. Only stopping when one needed to turn off.

It took only a few minutes before Avery and Desmond passed by a large side road lined with many stalls. The passageway was lined with large three-story buildings. Some appeared to be homes, others workshops. The passageway large like the main street, but it left enough room for one carriage to pass by without hitting the stalls.

With an excited tug, Avery pulled Desmond's hand while turning down the passageway. He could only blush at her soft hand's touch as he was willingly dragged along. Many stalls were manned by robbed people, as cold winds strolled down the road. Some bartered with people, some called out to passer-biers, and others simply sat quietly. Avery approached the first stall closest to her.

The stall was covered with wore grey cloth with seemingly cheap trinkets. A brush made from a light wood. Iron tableware, and some children toys. The vendor was an older lady who stared at the couple with gauging eyes. She was amused at how Avery looked at each cheap trinket like they were never before seen. "That brush looks nice." Avery off-handedly commented."It's a cheap commoners brush, I can find you something of higher quality "

Desmond wasn't a merchant. He wasn't tactful enough to be one, but he ran several shops in the noble district from behind the scenes. Making logistical and administrative decisions. All built on the little money he got from the castle, thus funding more of his scholarly ventures. As such, He'd seen higher quality items. That's why he said such a thing. To him, it was a harmless statement. As a young man wanting to impress a girl, he'd aim to get her something flashier.

Yes, an unthoughtful statement by a young man. One that pricked one of Avery's buttons. There was a moment of silence before she turned to him, with a frown. The vendor also frowned, but kept their mouth shut. The only winner is a lordling with fighting as they say. So they kept quiet about his rude comment. "Why are you being an ass?" Desmond who a moment ago had his head up in the clouds, but suddenly struck from the sky by the goddess called Avery.

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