Family Business 58 (Patreon)

Family Business

Chapter 58

-VB-

“So it was a misconception and a misunderstanding,” the soldier interrogating her - without torture! - hummed as he looked at what he had written down after questioning and listening to her. “A misfortune that you ended up in front of the duke’s path, and I suspect he may be a little bit more sensitive towards the issue of children because he has his own children who are growing up.”

Ranna blinked.

That … did kind of make sense? Parents - at least those who cared - cared a lot about their children, and as a duke, it would be kind of like the father of an entire region. Or maybe she was thinking too hard.

“Okay, I’ll be back,” the soldier said as he stood up, the steel chair - a chair made out of steel in a prison! - scrapped painfully along the stone floor as he pushed it away, and then he left the room, closing the thick wooden door behind him.

So she waited because there was nothing else she could do. Hopefully, they’ll just let her go.

She shuddered. Had she been in Noxus and a noble like that saw her, then they would have killed on the spot. Demacia really was better if a misunderstanding like that didn’t get her lynched on the spot. Or, worse, recruited for the very perceived sin.

She let out a slow and long sigh of breath she’d been holding this entire time, and wiped the tear tracks that had formed when she thought she was going to die.

She jerked awake - when did she fall asleep? - when the door creaked open loudly and she found herself meeting the soldier again.

“Good. Here are your papers.”

Quizzically, she took the proffered papers and looked at them.

“Umm… what are these for?”

“The top paper and the wooden tag is your identification. We heard from the gate guard that you didn’t have one of your own. For now, press your thumb down on the wooden plate’s center circle.”

She did and winced when she felt a bit of something get pulled from her.

The wooden tag glowed dimly in yellow - with magic! - before going inert.

“My boss’s boss told me that it’s a bit of an experimental procedure, so congratulations on first ever Demacian magical identification tag.”

She looked at him with utter confusion before looking back down.

“The other papers,” he continued. “One of them is for your acquittal. It proves to others that this incident was an accident and misunderstanding and that you have been acquitted of any charges that had, has, and will be placed against you regarding this incident. The third paper is compensation for the damages you’ve received as a result of this incident. I certainly wouldn’t mind getting roughed up for five golds.”

Shocked, she flipped to the third page… and there it was. Except it said that the gold was kept in “Jorasmang Central Bank”?

“And that’s it. You’re free to go.”

She looked back up as he stepped out of the way and kept the door open for her. She hesitated but slowly rose up and walked out. He walked out with her and guided her out of the very clean if dimly lit halls of the prison. Soon, they arrived at the entrance (she assumed so because there was a double door ahead with light filtering through the large open gaps at the center of each door). Instead of being kicked out, the soldier led her to a woman whose job title was receptionist (on the title plaque). One of the soldiers behind the desks rose up and left.

Then she was told that she would get her things returned.

That confused Ranna. She arrived here with barely anything other than the clothes on her back, so she found herself surprised when the guard who’d left just a moment ago returned with a knapsack. It was packed, and when she looked in, she saw a bunch of utensils, a pair of simple tools, and clothes for her size.

“A gift from the duke for the misunderstanding,” the guard grunted before going back to his desk.

She gulped and thanked them all.

After that, she walked out of the prison on her own two feet and found herself looking back after walking a bit of a distance in the now less crowded street.

[Eastern Police Station].

What was a police?

… Oh, was that what the guards were called here in this city? It was an odd name.

Not knowing what to do right then and there, she looked up and the sun was starting to set up. ‘I guess that answers that question. I need to find an inn.’

She walked away from this guard station and explored the city with the hour she had left before the sun set, but as she walked about, she noticed that people weren’t leaving to go to their homes. In fact, in some corners and streets, people were lighting lamps so the streets wouldn’t be dark.

This was … very different from a street in Noxus.

Finally, she found an inn and made it in.

“You look surprised, laddie.”

She turned around and saw a man who she presumed was the owner, or at least a worker, of the inn. “Ah… Yes. I’m not from Demacia.”

The rotund and grey-mustached man nodded with agreement. “Yes. Jorasmang City is very different from many places. Why, the only place I’d compare this city to is Piltover!”

Ranna blinked. She didn’t know much about Piltover.

“This city … it is a blessing for everyone. This is the place where, if you work hard and smart, then you can find what you want just like I did. I’m not even from Demacia. I’m from Freljord!”

Her eyebrows rose up. Wasn’t Freljord the place of barbarians and their primitive magicks?

“And now look at me!” the innkeeper laughed, completely unaware of the insult Ranna gave him in her mind and maybe showing through on her face. “I am one of the richest Freljordian living in Demacia!”

Several of the customers of the inn raised their tankards, and Ranna noted that many of them were similarly haired in whites, greys, and even silvers.

“... do you have work that needs to be done?” she asked abruptly.

The innkeeper paused and looked at her.

And then smiled.

“Proactive. I like that. Well, I do have a job that needs filling. The question is whether you can work long hours for a fair wage, laddie.”

She steeled herself. “I can.”

“Then welcome to Gromm’s Inn!”

-VB-

A/N: more worldbuilding. Or city building? Same thing.