Around a roaring bonfire sat several n dressed in black, each with a golden pendant hanging on his chest.
At first, the n were chatting and laughing.
Suddenly, a rchant, who seed to be their leader, silenced the others.
"Shh! Quiet, everyone!"
The others imdiately shut their mouths, their hands slipping into their clothes to grip hidden hand crossbows.
The leader's gaze swept towards the darkness beyond the bonfire's reach: "Who's there?"
No one spoke.
"Friends, we are rchants from Nilfgaard. If you're looking for a safe place to spend the night, you are welco. Don't be shy, co out, let us see you."
Still, silence reigned.
Just as his companions began to wonder if their leader was battling thin air, a small figure stepped into the firelight.
The n all froze.
Even the leader.
No one had expected that the one who appeared before them would be a re little girl.
What surprised them even more was that, while this little girl displayed the fear of strangers typical for her age, her deanor was overwhelmingly one of condescension.
"You are rchants from Nilfgaard?"
Despite wearing commoner's clothes, Syanna tried her best to project an air of command.
Through her earlier discreet observation, she had already deduced that these weren't bandits or ordinary travelers.
They were rchants.
Her governess had once told her and Anarietta that, unlike errant knights who might act against their own interests out of chivalry and honor, rchants only pursued profit.
If the profit was great enough, they would even sell the rope used to hang them.
Therefore, if she wanted to leverage their power, she had to demonstrate her value and make herself "profitable" to them.
She had gambled correctly.
Syanna watched the rchant leader exchange glances with the others.
Then, he cautiously inquired.
"We are mbers of the Nilfgaardian rchants' Guild. Have you heard of the rchants' Guild, esteed young lady?"
The rchant leader's polite tone and words greatly satisfied Syanna.
While in the palace, though the servants dared not beat or scold her, they also hadn't shown much reverence due to the Black Sun curse.
As for her journey with the Witcher, her treatnt had been even worse, less comfortable than in the palace.
Now, the rchant leader's deferential attitude finally made her feel at ease.
"The Nilfgaardian Empire's rchants' Guild? I know of you. You operate in Toussaint too, but one of your mbers recently used so tricks at the knightly tournant that displeased my grandmother."
"This..."
The rchants exchanged bewildered glances.
News of Lord Douglas's downfall in Toussaint had already reached Nilfgaard imdiately.
The Nilfgaardian rchants' Guild certainly wouldn't protest to Toussaint on behalf of Lord Douglas.
After all, Toussaint was a "friendly nation" to the Nilfgaardian Empire, and besides, Lord Douglas's actions truly weren't honorable enough.
Everyone had an attachnt to land, wanting to own a piece of their own land, which was understandable.
But you couldn't just do it so blatantly at a knightly tournant.
Did you take the audience for fools, or the judges?
Blatantly cheating in a fair, just, and open competition, did you think this was Nilfgaard?
What truly shocked the rchants was...
"Could it be that you are a lady of the ducal family?"
Syanna proudly puffed out her small chest: "You have so insight. Indeed, I am Syvia Anna, a descendant of the 'Lance Duke' Ludovic, and the granddaughter of Duchess Carolotta."
The rchant leader was the first to drop to one knee.
"It truly is Her Highness... What are you all staring at? Co quickly and pay your respects to Her Highness!"
"Your Highness." xN (multiple voices)
At the rchant leader's urging, the others also hastily knelt on one knee.
"Hmm."
Syanna felt imnse satisfaction: "You may all rise."
The rchant leader spoke indignantly.
"Your Highness, forgive my impertinence, but you are a person of imnse value. How do you co to be alone in the wilderness? Where are your guards? This is far too dangerous, and irresponsible."
"I got separated from them," Syanna casually spun a lie.
She concealed the truth.
And she didn't intend to linger on this topic for too long.
"Can you send back to Toussaint? It's not far from here; it shouldn't delay your business. And I can assure you, Grandmother will reward you handsoly."
"That is certainly no problem," the rchant leader said without hesitation, "but not for the sake of Her Grace the Duchess's reward, but out of respect for nobility, especially for a ducal daughter such as yourself."
"Zawan, go warm up so goat's milk. Our esteed young lady must be famished... Here, young lady, have so lon seeds first to tide you over."
The rchant called Zawan quickly ran off, rummaging through their wagon.
The rchant leader and his n, anwhile, engaged Syanna in small talk, sharing stories of what they had seen and heard during their travels.
In the pleasant conversational atmosphere, Syanna gradually relaxed.
Ten minutes later.
Zawan returned, cradling a full bowl of goat's milk.
"Here's the goat's milk, young lady."
The rchant leader glanced at it and then scolded.
"You idiot! Why didn't you blow on it to cool it for the young lady? How can she drink it like that? Her Highness is precious; if she burns her throat, you couldn't pay for it even if we sold you!"
Zawan suddenly understood: "Yes, yes, I was negligent, please forgive , young lady."
"Never mind, I'll do it. Don't blow your saliva into it; no one wants to drink your spit."
The rchant leader himself took out a small fan and began to cool the steaming goat's milk.
After fanning for so ti, seeing no more steam rise, the rchant leader touched the bowl holding the goat's milk with his hand, then took out a spoon, scooped a little, and tasted it himself.
Only then did he respectfully hand the bowl to Syanna: "It's perfect now, neither too cold nor too hot, just right."
Syanna thanked him and took the bowl with both hands.
At first, she tried to maintain her ladylike composure.
But as the first sip of goat's milk slid down her throat, her hungry stomach imdiately craved more.
This was far, far tastier than coarse whole-wheat bread.
Syanna couldn't help but gulp it down.
Zawan offered a fawning smile.
"I added a little sugar; it should be to your taste. Children usually like sweet things... I didn't an to imply you are a child, young lady, please forgive ."
The bowl of goat's milk was quickly emptied.
Syanna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Hmm, I forgive you. And, the goat's milk you made was very delicious. I'll rember this. When we return to Toussaint, I'll ask Grandmother to give you extra money."
....
For advanced chapters:
Get early access to 120 advanced chapters before anyone else!
👉 Join now: patreon/Chaos_God
User Comments
0 comments from readers