Chapter 62: Im telling you, It wasnt me.
Festivals have always been a breeding ground for chaos and commotion.
Especially the much anticipated Grand Betrothal Festival, which could be considered the perfect stage for trouble.
The high spirits of the common folk, the intoxicated cries coupled with pleasures in the dark, dances and songs, the merchants’ fervent efforts to make a profit, vagrants aplenty, etc..
Whether it was the fervor, pleasure, or alcohol, those intoxicated roamed the streets day and night.
The Grand Ducal guard, mercenaries, and Knights were on high alert during the festivities, but naturally, some things would always pass by undetected.
Thus, multiple disturbances occurred in the Grand Duchy.
Between the 6th and 7th Street, in the outskirts, a particularly troubling event was brewing.
“This bitch–!! Can’t even bring home a single coin? You must be hiding the money from me, aren’t you, thieving wench-!!”
Thwack-!
“Ah-!”
In the slums, a bear-looking man kicked the stomach of a woman, presumably his wife.