Chapter 84 : A Real City!
The shantytown outside the city walls was grim, but inside, everything is clean and the buildings are magnificent. A whole new world.
“Stay focused on steering,” Selina warns me, but it’s hard. The roads in Alina City have proper sidewalks, which feels like an incredible luxury.
Still, there are a lot of carriages and horses moving around, so I keep my hands steady on the reins.
“It’s so nice that the sidewalks are separate from the road,” I say. “Raymond City should totally do this.”
Selina just laughs. “Raymond City might be large for a town on the edge of Schwarzwald, but it’s still just a frontier outpost. Alina City is near the Royal Capital, and it has a port. It’s in a completely different league.”
A city having a “league”? I guess that makes sense for a major city like this, but I can’t stop thinking about the shantytown just outside the gates. It smelled so bad.
“So, where are we going?” I ask. We came in through the North Gate, but the port is somewhere to the south.
“All the major merchants have their companies in the south.”
How am I supposed to know that? It’s my first time here. “Right,” I say, trying to sound like I knew that all along. “South it is.”
We follow the main road down from the North Gate, and the street is lined with all sorts of shops. My head swivels back and forth, trying to take it all in.
“Oh, they’re selling musical instruments!” I pull on Noah’s reins instinctively.
Selina gives me a sharp look.
“You can look later. Now, let’s see… the Marshall Trading Company is… ah, over there.” She points to an impressive three-story building with a large sign hanging over the entrance.
“Wow,” I breathe. “That’s quite an establishment.”
I already figured Selina’s acquaintance had to be rich, but this place stands out even among the other trading companies nearby.
“The only question,” Selina says thoughtfully, “is whether the old coot is still active. He might have gotten on in years and retired by now.”
This is another clue in the great Selina age mystery. She’ll never tell me how old she is, but I’m pretty sure she’s over a hundred.
“Have that boy there take the horse,” she orders, gesturing toward the entrance.
He’s less a “boy” and more of a proper attendant, but I hop down and hand Noah’s reins over to him. He seems completely used to customers arriving by carriage.
Selina strides confidently into the Marshall Trading Company, and I hurry to follow, trying not to look as out of place as I feel.
A clerk in a smart suit approaches us. “How may I help you?” he asks politely.
An old woman in a witch’s robe with a little girl in a matching robe trailing behind her has to be a strange sight. He probably thinks we’re here to curse someone.
“Is the chairman of the company in?” Selina asks, her voice crisp. “Tell him Selina has come to call.”
Did she forget the chairman’s name? Or maybe she’s leaving room for the possibility that the next generation has taken over.
Whatever the reason, her commanding tone works. The clerk bows and leads us toward the back of the shop.
The store is filled with all kinds of goods.
I scan the shelves for musical instruments but don’t see any. I want to take my time and look around, but we’re quickly ushered into what looks like a reception room.
The moment the clerk says, “Please wait here,” and closes the door, Selina turns on me. “Zoe, stop gawking. Sit up straight, don’t lean against the back of the chair, and keep your mouth shut.”
This is rich, coming from the woman who usually sprawls all over our sofa at home. But now, sitting in her chair, her back is as straight as a board.
She’s tried to teach me proper manners a few times, but it never seems to stick.
“It’s one thing to learn the rules of etiquette and then bend them to your own style,” she’s told me more than once. “It’s a disgrace not to know them in the first place.”
I guess all her warnings are finally coming true. It’s not like I ever needed formal manners in Lang Village or Carlton. And definitely not in the Great Forest.
I do my best to sit up straight, perching on the edge of the chair with my ankles crossed just so.
This is how you’re supposed to sit, apparently, but it’s completely exhausting. I hope the chairman hurries up.
Beside me, Selina is trying to smother a laugh. So cruel.
Still, sitting like that, she really does look like a noble witch from a storybook.
Just as I’m thinking this, I hear a commotion from upstairs, followed by the sound of someone thundering down the steps.
The door bursts open.
“L-Lady Selina! My sincerest apologies for the wait!” An elderly man with graying green hair is bowing so low his head is practically touching the floor.
He looks absolutely terrified, his face pale and slick with sweat. I hope he’s not sick.
“Willy,” Selina says calmly. “You’re looking well.”
What? He looks anything but well. And I guess she only remembered his name once she saw his face.
“You are looking as hale as ever, Lady Selina,” he stammers, still bowing.
I’m seriously worried he’s going to have a heart attack. He hasn’t even sat down.
“Sit down, Willy. We have a few things to discuss.”
Aren’t we the ones visiting him?
But Chairman Willy—I assume that’s who he is—does as he’s told and sinks into a chair. Maybe that will calm him down?
It doesn’t. His face gets even paler, and he starts sweating so much I can see it dripping from his chin.
Is he really going to be okay?