The streets were bustling as the merchants from all across the Kingdom of Ferrum collaborated and collude in the fair City of Brass. Where the little boy Vladimir was just waking up from a good nights rest. Enrgetic, he went down to the kitchen to greet his mother good morning. Taking the freshly baked bread out of the oven, she motioned him to sit down and eat. They were a middle-class family. Both parents have jobs to pay the taxes the kingdom imposed. His mother was one of the three bakers in the city. The cheapest, if I may add, but of the best quality her hands could deliver.
Yet, even if her bread is, arguably, the best tasting in the City of Brass. The nobles would prefer the other, more expensive kinds of breads the other shops offer. Even going as far as to get stale bread if the price were somehow expensive. All this due to a demonstration of power and wealth among their kinsmen. For being a noble in these lands are, in fact, a performance. It was not nessesary for them to have actual wealth to become noble but an extravagant and excesive show.
"Thank you lord for this bread that mother made" as he sniffed the fresh and plump loaves coming out of the oven.
Vladimir reached one bread but got slapped in his wrist. "Not yet, little one. Your father is still in the feilds."
"But mother. I'm famished." said the young boy, acting like he has never been fed for days. His mother smiled and tossled his brown hair.
"Then go get your father so we could eat breakfast together."
"Yay!" he said out of excitement and went out of the house.
"Do be careful!" his mother shouted as the boy ran through the streets and disappeared among the people.
