Bab 307: Chapter 232 Abyss

A gaunt old man, wearing a thin flaxen coat, was holding the hand of a sallow and emaciated child about ten years old, as they struggled to make their way to the grain warehouse official. With a bowed head and hand over his chest, he pleaded:

"Sir, kind sir! Bread in the city has soared to 22 sous a pound, we truly cannot afford it... Please, show some mercy and distribute some grain. Otherwise, we really won't survive!"

Normally, bread in Nice wouldn't exceed 10 sous per pound. This meant that for citizens who were barely scraping by on every single sous they earned, more than half a month would pass without enough money to buy food.

Immediately, a chorus of pleading voices arose around them:

"Please, distribute bread at fair prices! His Majesty the King promised in the proclamation..."

"My child has only had one meal in the past two days, I beg you!"

"Sir, many bakeries in town have run out of flour, everyone is relying on the reserve grain..."