The work today had not been too hectic. It might have been done from the Lucien's estate, as the task was easy. But Lucien had decided to go to the capital. It was not because there was a need to, but because he did not want to be anywhere near his own house. and especially not near Liora. For him, the last night had been too much. Even the sight of his newly assigned concubine, the ceremony of vows, the servant's whispers and other than that, the sight of the steward. Everything, this all had oppressed him more than he would like to admit.
Therefore, rather than remain behind, he had come up with an excuse to depart.
And now, as they left the restaurant, Lucien and Rowan entered the wooden carriage.
Rowan, normally the one to fill the air with talk and gossip, was silent at the moment. Lucien, who was sitting his with his eyes closed, opened one eye, observing the way Rowan was rubbing his chin and was deep in thought.
With gentle curiosity, Lucien finally broke the silence. "What are you thinking about?"
Rowan's lips were pursed before he finally grumbled, "I was just wondering... do you think Helia has reached the brothel yet?"
Lucien breathed out through his nose, his head shaking ever so slightly. "He will get there just fine."
Rowan hummed at his master's response but wasn't content. His eyebrows furrowed as he rested against the carriage side. "But honestly, Master… the note might have been delivered by our messenger bird as well. Why do we always have to meet at that restaurant?"
Lucien, having closed his eyes once more, hardly flinched. With a look of practiced indifference, he merely raised his hand and tapped Rowan not so gently on the forehead.
"Ow...ouch!" Rowan winced, jumping back. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing at the area with a mock scowl. "Master! Why again? If you keep doing this, my forehead will be red by the end of the day!"
Lucien ignored his complaints, lazily shifting his position.
Still grumbling, Rowan muttered, "Seriously, why that place? The food isn't even that good."
This time, Lucien's expression twitched slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He exhaled, finally giving Rowan a pointed look.
"Think about it, Rowan. You're smart enough to understand."
Rowan grimaced but didn't protest otherwise, continuing to rub his forehead.
The carriage jolted over the rough stone roads; the sounds of the capital's busy streets were slowly receding into the distance.
Until... the carriage they were traveling in halted. both of men did not understand the reason for that as they looked at each other."Master..."Rowan started, but Lucien was already holding up his hand, telling him not to speak.
Lucien swung his fingers towards the door of the carriage while looking at Rowan toward the front of the carriage. Rowan got it right away.
He leaned forward a little, opening the small wooden panel to talk with the driver. "Sir, what's wrong? Why did we stop? Is there anything wrong with your cart?"
The driver paused before answering, sounding nervous. "Young man, it's not my cart; it's the soldiers. They're..." This made Rowan furrow his eyebrows.The driver didn't even finish his sentence...
Thud!
Something hit the carriage.
The wooden structure of the carriage shook at the impact.
Both Lucien and Rowan were taken aback for a moment, but their reflexes took over quickly.Lucien acted at once, going for the carriage door, prepared to step out.
But before he could do so, Rowan's hand lashed out, grasping his master's wrist.
"Master, wait. Let me see, you stay here.". Rowan's voice. Lucien considered his confidant's words; as the driver said they were the soldiers, there was a possibility of higher-ups to be with them too who might recognize Lucien and it was best to avoid taking risks.
Rowan paused for a moment before alighting from the carriage, his boots thudding onto the cobblestone road with a muffled thud. His keen eyes took in the scene at once.
A batch of men and women were being hauled along the road, their wrists bound together in coarse ropes. The men pulling them along wore brown uniforms; they were thick, well-made, and adorned with the crest of the lower enforcement unit.
But something did not add up when Rowan scanned the scene; it was that the Imperial troops wore blue at all times.That was the prescribed uniform of the soldiers directly answerable to the crown's orders. As all sections and tiers of the soldiers were allotted with colors and crests. But these brown-clad men who were parading prisoners down the capital's central road in the middle of the day were unkwon to Rowan.
Rowan folded his arms, watching intently while squinting his eyes.
The prisoners appeared tired, their faces smeared with dirt and weariness. Some struggled to remain upright, staggering as the soldiers pulled the ropes taut without regard.
Rowan looked to the side at the driver, who had also moved out of his seat, standing next to the carriage with his arms crossed his back.
"Why are they being pulled like that?" Rowan asked in a relaxed tone.
The driver sighed, shaking his head. "Young man, new laws are being implemented. Perhaps they're offenders of the court's new regulations."
Rowan's jaw clenched slightly.
"New orders?" he echoed.
"Yes. Happens quite often nowadays." The driver shrugged. But then, as though something had occurred to him, he shifted his head fractionally and glared at Rowan.
"Wait a minute…" His tone lowered marginally. "You didn't know?"
Rowan forced a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly covered his reaction. "Ah, well… I've been away from the capital for some time."
The driver gave him a long look before nodding slowly. "Ohh....That explains it."
But Rowan's mind was already racing and he had to tell his master they don't consider these mere changes as a big threat but this change means there must be many other things they do not know yet and that the laws didn't change so suddenly.
And if so, it would normally be given through official outlets, through the court, through the nobility. But then there was a public display of something that hadn't been said in the palace halls.