Bravoos was a city well known for its mysterious foggy mornings... but today it was different. Today there were no signs of clouds in the sky and the sun rose quite early in the morning, it was one of those fine mornings which promised a clear, crisp and bright day.
Even the laziest of hawkers and merchants opened their shops early that day to earn money from people who came out to enjoy the rare fine morning. No one wanted to miss out on earning easy money, especially in Bravoss where money speaks louder than anywhere else. So the streets were already filled to the brim with people peddling their goods and customers moving from one shop to another trying to find the cheapest prices.
But the doors of the Iron Bank remained closed as the people in charge didn't care whether it was sunny or if it was raining, they would only open up when it was time to open and not a minute sooner even if a king was the one waiting at the door—Ehm—Unless there was a lot of money involved, of course.
People from all over the known world were standing in a line outside the main entrance hoping to be the first one in. Some were here to withdraw gold from their accounts, others to deposit but most of the early ones were here for only one thing... to try and see if the mightiest bank in the world would lend them some gold.
But things weren't quite so hectic on the other side; at the rear entrance which was exclusively for the use of bank employees. There was usually no penalty here even if the employees arrived a bit late, the only thing that mattered in this institute was if they were capable enough to bring in the gold, it didn't matter if they worked for an hour or from dawn to dusk, only results mattered here.
Two lazy-looking guards stood guard at the entrance waiting for the time when the traffic would start coming. They carried spears with them but they were mostly there for the show as it was almost impossible for someone to even think to challenge the Iron Bank in Bravoos.
"Were you out drinking all night again, Ray?" one of the guards asked the other with a fed-up expression when he saw his friend yawn for the fifth time even though their shift had only just started.
"Huh? Oh yeah! hehe... But don't worry, I wasn't there just for the drinks," he said patting his chest confidently before a lewd smile suddenly appeared on his face, "I also spent the night with that famous new girl at the docks..."
"That's even worse!"
"What can I do? She's just too pretty... I can't control myself," Ray replied with a dramatic and helpless sigh.
"Aren't you tired of it by now? Don't you think it's time for you to think of your future and start saving—"
"Argh! A married man like you can never understand the agony of people like me," Ray said while looking resentfully at the family man.
"Sigh! Just don't fall asleep on me will you," the guard replied while rolling his eyes, "Because I am not covering for you again..."
"What! Why not—"
"Shhh!!" the guard suddenly interrupted his friend's whining with a panicked expression and immediately straightened up with a sharp look on his face. Ray wasn't confused for more than a moment and immediately followed his friend's example and he too stood at attention with his eyes staring straight ahead.
Footsteps echoed as a man wearing a drab coat of brown and grey (clothes usually worn by people higher up in the bank,) appeared walking towards the entrance with a pompous air about him.
The thing which had actually sent the guard panicking was the decorative key worn around the man's neck. It wasn't just any normal key; it was a piece which denoted that the man was— someone they couldn't afford to offend—a mighty keyholder.
This key could only be worn by the descendants of the twenty-three founders of the Bank. And not every descendant (numbered in thousands) had the right to it. Only the most qualified ones were given this honour and there was a fierce fight every time one was up for grabs. But it was quite unusual for the man to wear it as it was supposed to be a ceremonial piece— only to be worn on formal occasions.
It was only when the man came close enough did the guards saw the face of the man wearing the key and their eyes immediately widened in surprise as they recognised who it was.
"Good work, Lads," The man said with a smirk, patting the guards condescendingly before he entered the premises while humming a merry tune.
Only after the footsteps had completely disappeared did both of them take a sigh of relief and slouch back towards the wall.
"Did you see the key?" Ray whispered, his eyes still a little wide.
"How could I miss it? The man was practically puffing his chest and shoving it in our faces." his friend replied with a snort.
"How the fuck did a fool like that Daario suddenly become a key holder." Ray asked while scratching his head, "I know that it hasn't been that long since the shit joined the bank..."
"Didn't you know about that recent election for one of the positions on the secret council?"
"Huh? Which one—Oh! Was it for the position of that Oldie who died while fucking in the brothel?"
"Yes, that one exactly. His uncle was lucky enough to snatch that seat and since he doesn't have any male heirs... he probably got the key as default of being the only candidate."
"Damn! What luck!" Ray cursed with an envious look on his face, "Ugh! I need a drink..."
"You're incorrigible..." his friend while shaking his head with a wry smile.
...
Daario Zalyne entered the room with a satisfied smirk on his face. He was quite delighted with all the envious glances that had been thrown his way, it felt... it felt like he was finally getting the respect he deserved after all this time.
He took a glance across the room towards the open window before going towards his desk. But just as he was about to take a seat, he suddenly frowned. He wiped his finger on the table and saw a very thin layer of dust.
"Maybe I should get a new assistant..." he murmured to himself. Now that he was finally moving up the ladder, he couldn't have this level of incompetence following him. "Ah! I can't let this ruin my mood," he said before shaking his head to forget about it.
After all, his uncle had finally won the much-coveted seat on the secret council and one of the perks that came with that position was that his uncle was now completely in charge of the Cheguy Port, the biggest and most important port of Bravoos.
Excluding the various small wharves and landing for fishermen and ferries, there were three main ports in Bravoos: the Chequy Port, the Purple Harbor and the Ragman's Harbor, also called the Outer Harbor.
The Purple Harbor was an exclusive that only allowed Bravoosi ships while the Ragman's Harbor, which his uncle was previously in charge of, was located in the west of the city and was the port where all the foreign ships docked, it was poorer, rougher and a lot dirtier than the other two and he hated working there.
But no more...
As one of the key factors in helping his uncle achieve this goal, he was obviously going along with him. And the best part was that his uncle had promised him that if the Cheguy Port came under him, he wouldn't forget about his contributions and would place him in charge of the nearby Arsenal—one of the most prestigious positions in Bravoos.
It was a just reward for all the efforts he had spent in trying to squeeze as much as he could from the regulars of the previous port to show a massive increase in revenue under his uncle. Of course, one of the major contributors to that amount was that small Merchant fleet from the North—his ever-increasing tax on those Starkhorses had been a great help.
Usually, he wouldn't have been able to unilaterally increase taxes like that without any backlash but he had chosen his targets very carefully. He only collected outrageous taxes like this from the softest of targets; Targets like those savages from the North, because he knew that they would never even be able to come up with the notion of complaining to the relevant departments. And even if they did, it would only work if they went to their competitors otherwise he knew how to make their complaints disappear.
After clearing his desk, he started to through the list of people whom he had to meet today— when he came across a name which made him stop.
"I thought I told them... No one from the North," he grumbled with irritation while crossing the name of one Jon Snow, North from the list. He knew that the man probably wanted to meet him to discuss the issue of tax but he didn't feel like dealing with it today.
Initially, he had decided to raise the tax just until the election and was going to remove the excess after his uncle won them, but now...
'It feels like such a waste...' Darrio thought with a sly smile.
...
It happened just around noon...
Darrio was just about to get up for lunch after finishing up with some work when there was a sudden knock on the door.
He looked up with a frown on his face as he had expressly told his assistant not to send anyone close to lunch hours.
He was just about to open his mouth to deny entrance to whoever was on the other when the door suddenly opened without his consent. His mouth closed shut as he bewilderedly looked at the handsome young man who nonchalantly entered the room.
"Who are you?" he immediately asked with a glare while trying to project a deep authoritative tone he had seen his uncle use.
The man didn't answer him immediately— instead, he slowly closed the door and looked around the room as if searching for something all the while ignoring his glare—and that pricked his pride more than anything.
He immediately raised his hand to pull the rope beside him that would summon the guards to his room when the man suddenly turned to him after having finally finished his inspection of the room, "I am Jon Snow." he introduced himself with an easy smile
"Jon Snow?" It took a while for Daario to remember where he had heard that "From the North?" he asked and let go of the rope when the man nodded. He didn't want any unwanted attention now that he knew who he was, "How did you get in here?"
"Oh! I have my ways..." Jon Snow answered with a shrug.
"Whatever ways you have, you can keep to yourself, Jon Snow." he snorted while swearing that he would definitely fire the assistant who had probably taken the bribe to let him in, "I know why you're here... but I am very busy at the moment and can't—"
Jon abruptly turned away from Darrio and started walking towards the window while ignoring whatever Darrios was saying. He went towards the window to pull up a small pouch that hadn't been there before.
"What are you doing?" Darrio asked in an alarmed voice as he looked at the man retrieve a pouch that he hadn't seen before that moment. His hand instinctively started going towards the rope when the man abruptly swirled.
Darrio flinched as he felt a whoosh of air and a thunk. Before he opened his eyes and involuntarily gulped when he looked down to see that the knife that Jon Snow had thrown just inches away from his hand finger.
"Let's talk, Shall we?"
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