A few days ago.
Somewhere in the North.
After tailing this Lord for days, the day for negotiation has finally come.
A middle-aged man with silver hair entered his usual tavern. His people are used to seeing their lord drinking with them in broad daylight in the walled city's biggest tavern. So when he entered, he received a few curt bows and tipped hats, and that was it. As if routine, he went to a private booth made solely for him.
But today, he wasn't alone.
The lord paused after seeing a man already waiting for him in his booth. He had worn tunics, but the gold over his wrist was striking. A commoner, but a wealthy commoner.
"I'm afraid this booth's already taken," said the lord with a smile.
"But I arrived here first?"
"…"
The lord dropped his smile as he sat down.
"Do not waste my time and speak."