The Heir Of The Grand Duke (Official)

Episode 8 - Homecoming

Within a weary carriage was a hooded boy wrapped in ragged cloth. The boy sat silently alongside other passengers as he waited for the cart to pass through the capital's gates and enter the main city.

The boy felt a certain unease as the cart was being expected by guards. They looked through the peek hole at the back and saw nothing but commoners, merchants, and a few mercenaries here and there.

"Seems good." One of the guards spoke to another and soon enough the old rattling carriage reached its destination.

"This is where y'all drop at." The man crudely spoke in a voice creaking like rotten floorboards.

The hooded boy along with his fellow passengers slowly filtered themselves out the back of the carriage and breathed in the air of the capital's city.

Liones, The Crusz Empire's Capital of Opportunities. Well…that's how the people would like you to believe. The world isn't so pretty after all.

There's crooks, thieves, human traffickers, and scum that lurk amongst the everyday folk, blending in like predators waiting for the right moment to strike.

The boy knew this and he didn't waste even a single moment before he headed to where he was supposed to.

Within his shaggy ragged robe was a tanned light leather armor and a silver edged sword strapped to his waist. Ready for any lowlife that would try and pick a fight with him.

From afar the boy looked to be from unknown origin, likely foreign. With his beautiful face that could charm any noble lady and a lean figure that flaunted his training. He was tall and although he was hooded and a robe covered his body, you could easily tell that this boy would be such a heartbreaker.

He stepped and peek through the alleyways, as if he was scanning for any nearby threats. This wasn't the first time he had ever been alone. He would always run off and do his own thing and come back having finished all his duties, and incidentally worrying the other people he worked with due to his sudden disappearance.

His associates would often nag him for his extreme efficiency and lack of comradery but he paid attention to absolutely none of them and preferred to do things his own way.

He glided like a kite in the wind through the crowds of people that amassed in the streets. Buying from different stands, corners, and shops, from the most rundown to the most outstanding, seemingly taking a bit of time to enjoy himself.

He then purposefully stopped at what looked like your run of the mill inconspicuous city cafe. With its tattered wooden sign that had the ink painted on it be so old that you can't even make out any of the letters and uncleaned wooden steps that still had a bit of gunk on the side.

The boy pushed open the door and a wave of relief washed over him, wiping away all the unease and wariness he felt while walking around the streets.

The barista looked up at him with a smile on his face. The man was cleaning up clear glass cups with a clean white towel. The inside of the cafe was a lot more sophisticated than it's outside. With its smooth lined wooden floors, its varnished and reflective balsa wooden tables, and a large lamp that hung in the middle of the ceiling.

The boy took a seat and the wooden stool twisted and creaked. "Great Morning,  Good Sir?"

"Truly a fine day." The man with a pep in his step placed the glasses down and handed them to the boy, he then proceeded to lean on the counter. The man had long choppy brown hair and hazelnut eyes that looked as appetizing as the coffee they served. "What might be someone as high standing as you be doing in a run down coffee shop like this?"