The day was nearing its end.
Deep in the Feynapotter city, there was a luxurious restaurant.
The restaurant itself exuded luxury, its polished wooden floors gleaming under the soft light.
But this mesmerizing luxury was still in an eerie silence.
Rows of set tables were empty without any patrons in sight.
At the very far end of this stylish room sat a fat man, a merchant.
His fingertips drummed rhythmically against the soft fabric on the table.
He has reserved the whole place to himself, listening to the clanking of plates in the kitchen.
It was comforting to him.
The fact that this whole place was under his authority and his authority alone.
But he was not here today to enjoy the chefs's panic when he said the food tasted bad.
No, he was here today on business.
The handful of guards standing behind him was a proof of that.
Just then, before the clean plates with tasty food could be brought out, the door was smoothly pushed open.
A hooded figure in a tailored coat with subtle embroidery and a veil steeped into the room.
Underneath these layers which obscured her features was a young lady.
She had a short brown hair put up into a styled bob and clear brown eyes.
Roselyn slowly approached the merchant, her expression a mystery as she stared at the guards with concealed weapons.
The merchant turned his head, smiling with false hospitality.
"Ah, I was told someone wished to discuss business. You don't look like one of my usual clients, though. What do you want?"
Roselyn came to a stop just a few paces away from the table.
Her palms were gripped into a tight fists as she scanned the place.
"I came to discuss a matter of grave importance.
Her eyes finally landed on the fat merchant, whose eyebrows were now raised.
A smiled tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned with his elbows on the table.
"Grave importance, you say? That sounds... ominous. Do enlighten me."
Roselyn was still for a second before reaching underneath her coat.
She noted as the guards instantly flinched towards their weapons, marking each of their guns's positions.
She slowly pulled out a small bundle of papers, tossing them onto the table.
They landed with a soft thud, spreading out to reveal sketches, contracts and many other evidences of his crimes.
His eyes scanned the documents as his smile faltered.
He stared as his finger paused mid-air, unable to finish the upcoming thump.
His gaze was laced with a hint of unease, although his voice stayed the same.
"And what is this supposed to prove?"
Dismissive.
Roselyn took a step closer, her expression shielded by the veil.
"That you've built your fortune on the backs of others. You've stolen from artists, imprisoned those who resist, and silenced anyone who dared to speak out. I have the proof, and I'm giving you a chance to end this willingly."
YOU ARE READING
Thrown Into Madness - Lord of the Mysteries
Historical Fiction"... I just wanted to read a book, What's with the bloody scene?! And what? I'm a child? And whose memories are these? Where am I? Who am I? I don't want this! Who would want this?! Get me back! I wanna go back! Please!" ... Who would think that bu...
