Chapter 65: The Shills
The gates of Silvermoon City loomed high, constructed from cold, grey granite. The guards at the threshold wore standardized leather brigandine and gripped lances with a visible, soul-crushing boredom.
Hans's wagon crawled forward in the queue. When his turn finally came, a guard extended a hand to halt the horses.
"Entry fee," the guard drawled, his voice drained of energy. "Ten coppers per person, fifty for the carriage."
Hans counted out sixty copper coins and handed them over. The guard snatched the pile, gave a dismissive wave, and signaled him through.
The wagon rolled into Silvermoon City. The thoroughfares here were wider and far noisier than those of Iron Fortress. On either side, shops hung a chaotic variety of colorful signage, and the streets hummed with the constant shuffle of pedestrians.
Hans didn't linger on the main road. He steered the horses into a labyrinth of side alleys, eventually coming to a halt in a district that looked particularly worse for wear. This was the Lower City, a place populated by those without steady work or noble pedigree.
Hans secured the horses, hopped down, and began pacing through the narrow lanes. His objective was surgical: he needed actors. Not the kind from a traveling troupe, but the kind who lived by their wits on the streets.
He found his marks quickly. Crouched outside a dingy tavern were two men. One was as thin as a bamboo reed, the other was built like a stone wall. The thin one was idly cleaning his fingernails with a rusted knife; the strong one was letting out a massive yawn.
Hans strode over and cut straight to the point. "Looking to make some coin?"
The thin man looked up, sparing Hans a brief glance before returning to his nails. The strong one opened his eyes, scanning Hans's expensive suit. "What kind of coin?"
"One silver each for the morning."
The thin man stopped scraping his nails. One silver was enough to keep them drowning in ale for several days. "What's the job?"
"A performance."
Thirty minutes later, the three were huddled in the shadows of a back alley. Hans placed a wooden box before them and began to outline his vision.
"Listen close. When the time comes, you're going to do this..."
As Hans spoke, the expressions of the two men shifted from curiosity to utter confusion, finally landing on the look one gives a certified lunatic.
The strong man's voice was thick with disbelief. "Fifty silver coins? For that? Are you mad, or are we?"
"This isn't an apple," Hans said, clicking the box open. A subtle, refreshing aroma drifted out. "This is [Benediction's Kiss]."
Hans held up the box, showing them the engraved sunflower patterns and the delicate, leaf-shaped metal clasp. "Just do exactly as I say. The more people watch, the harder you act. If we succeed, it's two silvers each."
He had upped the stakes. The thin man and the strong man exchanged a look. For two silvers, they'd do more than act; they'd probably start a literal riot.
"Count us in!" the thin man declared.
The trio huddled closer, ironing out the finer points of the script. Strange, cackling laughter occasionally echoed from the alley. A young mother passing by with her son caught the sound and immediately shielded the boy's eyes, quickening her pace.
"Don't look, sweetheart," she whispered. "Those are just useless adults."
Hans and his new employees couldn't have cared less.
The Noble District, Silvermoon City.
The streets here were paved with smooth, white stone slabs, lined with perfectly manicured greenery. Hans found an open patch of sidewalk and set up a small table, draping it with a cloth of midnight black.
On the cloth sat a single, exquisite wooden box. He stood behind the table, doing absolutely nothing.
High-born youths and their servants strolled past. Some cast curious glances at the lone merchant, but no one stopped. A wooden box wasn't much of a spectacle in this part of town.
Then, two figures rushed onto the scene from opposite ends of the street. It was the thin man and the strong man, now dressed in somewhat respectable tunics, looking like prosperous traders.
The thin man reached the table first, slamming a coin pouch down. "Merchant! This [Benediction's Kiss]! I'll take it!"
"Wait!" the strong man roared, shoving the thin man aside. "First come, first served! I staked a claim on this yesterday! Merchant, sell it to me!"
The thin man snarled back, "Liar! I was here yesterday too! You never showed!"
"I don't care! Today, this Benediction's Kiss is mine! I'll pay double!"
"I'll pay triple!"
Their shouting match was thunderous, quickly attracting the attention of every passerby. A group of young, opulently dressed nobles stopped, watching the drama with raised eyebrows and genuine amusement.
"What is that? A 'Benediction's Kiss'?"
"No idea. Looks like a jewelry box."
"Fighting over a box... how novel."
Seeing the crowd grow, the two shills put their backs into the performance. They began shoving and grappling, looking as if they were seconds away from a bloody brawl. Hans "frantically" stepped out from behind the table to separate them.
"Gentlemen, please! No violence! We are men of business!" Hans pleaded, looking appropriately distressed.
"Merchant, you be the judge! He's trying to steal my prize!" the strong man barked.
"I was here first!" the thin man countered.
Hans cleared his throat and projected his voice for the growing audience. "Very well. Since both of you desire it so fervently, I shall pose a riddle. Whoever provides the truest answer shall have the right to purchase."
He pointed to the box. "The Benediction's Kiss... tell me, what are its true benefits?"
The crowd went quiet. The thin man "snapped" his fingers and shouted, "I know! To gift it to a lover is to make them feel the uniqueness of your heart!"
The strong man bellowed in protest, "Nonsense! To gift it to a partner ensures a smooth path for business and overflowing coffers!"
"Gift it to an elder for eternal health!"
"It makes the neighbor's brat stop crying!"
"It makes you find lost gold on the sidewalk!"
Their claims became increasingly absurd, drawing peals of laughter from the watching nobles. They didn't believe a word of it, of course. But the spectacle was fascinating. A mysterious box, two brawling merchants, and a merchant with a flair for the dramatic.
A young noble finally couldn't resist. "Merchant, enough with the games. What actually is in there?"
Hans offered the noble a knowing, mysterious smile. He picked up the box and clicked the leaf-shaped latch open. A vibrant, ruby-red apple sat nestled inside.
"An apple?" the young noble blinked. Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd.
"This is not just an apple," Hans said, his voice quiet but carrying a magnetic clarity. "This fruit comes from the Sunflower Manor of Iron Fortress, harvested under the very first sliver of dawn. Each one is hand-selected for perfection. Encased in white-pine wood polished by hand, secured with a three-leaf luck-clasp, and infused with the scent of Spirit-Calming herbs."
Hans paused, meeting the noble's gaze. "It represents a Sentiment. A beautiful blessing that can be gifted to anyone to express what words cannot."
He allowed the silence to hang for a moment. "That is why it is called... The Benediction's Kiss."
The young noble stared at the fruit. The apple was ordinary. But the box, the story, and the name made it feel... exclusive.
"Fascinating," the noble chuckled. "How much? I'll take it."
"With the manor's compliments: fifty silver coins."
A gasp erupted from the crowd. "Fifty silvers?! For an apple?!"
But the young noble didn't care. To him, fifty silver coins wasn't even enough to buy a set of cufflinks for his Sunday shirt. For that pittance, he was buying an entertaining story and a novelty he could brag about to his friends over wine.
"Here." The noble signaled his servant to pay and took the box.
Hans pocketed the coin and immediately produced an identical box from beneath the table, placing it on the black cloth. "Alas, there are very few left today."
Hans looked at the still-arguing shills. "Now, which of you gentlemen is next?"
With the first sale as proof of value, the dam broke.
"I want one!" another noble shouted. "I'll give it to my fiancé. Let's see her complain about my lack of effort then!"
"Save one for me! I want to see if it'll stop my father from lecturing me for five minutes!"
"This is much better than the usual gold and jewels. It has character!"
The crowd surged forward. The twenty boxes Hans had brought were sold out in less than fifteen minutes.
Fifty silver coins each.
Hans packed up his empty table and black cloth, offering a polite bow to the lingering crowd. "Today's supply of Benediction's Kiss is exhausted. My deepest gratitude for your patronage. At this same time tomorrow, we shall have another limited supply of twenty."
Ignoring the groans of disappointment from the latecomers, Hans pushed his cart away and vanished around the corner.
Back in the dilapidated alley, Hans counted out four silver coins and handed them to the two men.
"A pleasure doing business with you."
The two men held the heavy silver coins, their hands literally shaking. In one morning, simply by wagging their tongues, they had earned more than they usually made in a month. They looked at Hans with eyes full of religious awe.
"Big boss," the thin man whispered. "Tomorrow... do we go again?"
"Of course," Hans said, tucking his bulging coin purse into his coat. "But tomorrow, we're changing the script."
Hans looked toward the spires of the Noble District. This was only the beginning.
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