Turning around I met a pair of scared, if not to say disgusted eyes. Shaking the lethargy out of my ageing body, I silently cursed at my waning awareness before addressing the lowborn.
"What reason swept you all the way to my lodging?" Between my question and his response, I observed a slight moment of pause.
"Idiots, all of them. Fearful from the very beginning. Just how striking a performance can you exhibit this way?" I muttered under my breath.
"Sir, I've come to report that your order has been implemented. The other patrons—" "Do I look like I care about the other mongrels?"
My anger was palpable here, which made him nod like a chicken pecking on corn. Good boy. "I am NOT to be mentioned in the same breath as those people.
I am a man of greater peerage, of nobler origin, of superior intelligence. They run after profit, I after the well-being of our world."
My words proved to be too much for this lowborn. Perhaps the order he understood, but the peculiarities mentioned in my following explanation? Fat chance.
The door swung open, relieving the man of this bloody awkwardness. Another slimy creature waltzed in, a human without the slightest shred of consciousness.
"Earl Mistelhook? It's my blessing to bask in your portly presence. And an honour to be of use." The lowly merchant perfectly imitated our aristocratic way of greeting.
In a certain sense, he was even superior to many aristocrats, a circumstance that made my poor heart thump furiously.
How come a lowborn had it in him to exceed us? How dare he...! Or rather... how dare they let this slimy creature exceed them.
"This lowly Morandell has brought the desired goods." I didn't know what irked me more; the slight provocation hidden behind his impeccable demeanour or my earlier remark.
Fact was, the merchant vacated the door, revealing two scantly clad women who looked like they'd been fattened at the last moment.
A brunette and a blonde ticking all the boxes. I had to give it to him, finding these must've been an undertaking in this uncivilised dumpster rife with stinking animals.
Their upbringing though... I was sure that exposure to my enlightening love would make better humans out of them.
I grinned, motioning the older one to massage my hurting shoulders and the younger one to fill up my glass.
"Yes?" I asked rather impassively. The merchant was still there, his bearing as calm as ever, yet his existence unwelcome still. "Princess Dorothea."
He wetted his vulgar mouth as I shifted my attention away from the two goods. He was definitively looking at the other lowborn.
As to why he did so, it became clear in a moment. "Courier is my second calling. Her Highness extends most veracious salutations. And a letter."
Now this made more sense. I espied him taking a heavy letter sporting Royal's seal from a secret compartment sewn into his right trouser leg.
An agent of royalty...? It made me furious. I literally ripped the letter from his hands, bowing to the seal before opening it and scanning its content.
My anger rose as a consequence. How dare the princess... a commoner... no nobility?! If things went well, this stinking pile of lowborn garbage would get some peerage without doing anything.
Baron? "Straight up to Viscount," I mutter, my face scary enough to freeze the two goods. I sure had much work to do to make them useful.
But the problem here was, I had to help the merchant wholeheartedly against everything I thought and stood for. That was because what he gained was also linked to the success of my undertakings!
He knew it, the glimmer of provocation in his eyes suggested as much. With the royal family in the fray, I also couldn't extricate myself any longer.
My head would roll if I did so. "You... you... bastard! So that was your game all along!" I bellowed, my thoughts piercing the fog at once.
"Earl Mistelhook, I do not know what Sir is talking about." "You do! You fucking do!" In my rage, I punched the masseuse in the face and kicked that stupid blonde away.
Rage made me stand up from my fur-lined armchair, a glass of wine ready to douse this lowborn from head to toe.
"Sire...," the merchant wasn't impressed at all with my sudden movements. If anything, the displeasure and ridicule in his eyes only deepened.
"...Her Highness Princess Dorothea saw in the current situation of hidden aggression and post-haste retreat an unforgivable sacrilege...,"
My authority had been overridden and that was why my orders were realised without much resistance.
I should've smelled the stench of betrayal. I really should...! "...the longer this subtle confrontation drags on, the greater the support for non-humans."
"This is bullshit!" I hear myself shout indignantly. "We gather troops, outwit the rebels and counter them at every turn! It is only a matter of time before they bleed out!"
The merchant snorted. This time he really did, loud and clear. "Indeed, it's us who bleed out. My Emporium sold more merchandise to non-humans since three years ago.
Since your meddling, that is. Now, what do you expect the ratio to be?" He even did away with the honorifics, the bastard. I suddenly heard a loud yell.
Turning my head in that direction, my gaze landed on a fountain of blood dyeing my lodging with the blood of lowborn.
"What is the meaning... assassins!" My throat felt positively parched as I gulped down dry spittle while fearing the answer.
"The ratio is seven to three. In their favour." He didn't deign to explain himself to me. "Your involvement has brought us a slow death.
Her Highness Princess Dorothea now takes matters into her own hands. You are to follow her lead. Am I clear?" The assassins in the back slowly merged with the shadows.
Soon after, it seemed like we four were the only humans alive here, but that was as much a misconception as I had a choice given the circumstances.
"The stakes have changed. 1.20 times the investment if anyone other than the lizardman wins. Thrice the amount if he does so. The bait is too delicious, their pockets surely empty thereafter!"
The merchant came closer, walked behind me and took the meat from the hook. "My hunting dog loves jerky."
It was then I understood that this was no lowborn. That *merchant* was something else. A monster in the employ of Her Highness Dorothea.
He didn't flinch at all in the presence of his supposed kin. And that was just because they were no kin! "I... have been played. For how long?"
I couldn't help but ask. "Don't turn into jerky," was the answer I got. "Earl Mistelhook, enjoy your stay in the capital," he harped on before leaving.
That moment I couldn't help but murmur, "so Storge and I are kin...?" The ridiculousness hit home, yet I had nothing to counter it with.