Although the knight's voice was calm and not particularly loud, it carried a weight that made Bill's heart tremble ever so slightly. There was a certainty in the knight's tone, a quiet authority that Bill couldn't ignore, and it left him feeling both intimidated and strangely reassured.
Without giving Bill any chance to prepare or even protest, the knight turned on his heel and began leading them down a leftward passage. Bill followed, careful to keep pace, his mind racing with questions he didn't dare voice aloud. He wondered again whether this knight was testing him or merely taking him at his word. Either way, there was no turning back now.
They ascended a narrow staircase, the sound of their footsteps echoing faintly off the stone walls. At the top, they emerged into a vast hall that stretched far wider and higher than anything Bill had imagined. Sunlight streamed in through dozens of towering glass windows on either side, bathing the room in a golden glow that made the polished tiles underfoot gleam.
Bill's gaze swept over the hall with a mix of awe and unease. The floor was laid with shiny tiles, each one reflecting the sunlight and casting faint shadows of the people moving about. He hesitated slightly as he stepped forward. Could someone like him—an ordinary businessman accustomed to the bustling, grimy streets of King's Landing—truly belong in such a place?
Perhaps sensing Bill's hesitation, the knight spoke, his tone casual yet firm.
"Don't worry. You won't be asked to pay if you happen to break anything. These tiles are designed for walking on. If they were that fragile, the manufacturer would be liable, not you. Just walk carefully, and you'll be fine."
Bill swallowed hard, still uncertain. "It really won't… break, will it? I mean, if I step on it wrong… you won't ask me to pay?"
The knight's patience, though not unlimited, seemed to stretch just enough for him to respond. "Why are you making such a fuss? I told you I won't ask you to pay. That settles it. These are fired tiles, not expensive marble. They're used widely, even in private homes. If you like them, you could buy some yourself. Now step on them carefully."
Bill hesitated only briefly before muttering, "Okay… okay. I'll be careful," his voice betraying a stutter, an involuntary sign of his lingering nervousness. The knight, after a moment's glance at him, seemed to soften. Perhaps he recognized that this was Bill's first encounter with such grandeur, a world far removed from his usual streets.
"Alright," the knight said finally. "Step on them. Just be careful, that's all. There's nothing to fear."
Bill's heart still raced as he cautiously moved forward, each step landing lightly on the tiles. To his relief, they were solid, their polish only making them seem more delicate than they were. With every careful step, he felt a bit more confident, though he still couldn't shake the sensation that he was walking on sacred ground.
As they entered the center of the hall, Bill noticed rows of wooden benches, arranged like those in an auditorium. The benches were neatly aligned in two long rows, extending layer by layer toward the front. A few people sat in these benches, quietly observing or perhaps waiting for business at the City Hall.
Following the knight's confident strides, Bill approached the front of the hall, where a row of tables stood. Behind each table, a clerk busied themselves with documents, their movements precise and practiced. Opposite each table was a single chair, some occupied by visitors, others empty. Bill had no clue what each table represented, but he felt his anxiety ebb slightly simply by being in such an orderly environment.
The knight stopped in front of one particular table and gestured to it. "This is where you apply for a business license. You've arrived at the right time—there aren't many people around, so you can handle it quickly. Have your servant sit in the back and wait. Someone will explain the rules and requirements for doing business here. Make sure to follow the law carefully. I must attend to my own matters, so I'll leave you to yours."
Bill quickly nodded, grateful for the guidance. "Thank you for showing me the way, sir. I don't know your name, though. May I know it? If the opportunity arises, I would love for you to taste some of the wine I've brewed myself."
The knight paused, considering Bill's words, then smiled faintly. "There's no need for formalities. This is merely a small favor. The best way to repay me is simply to pay your taxes promptly when you conduct business here. My name is Jon—Jon Clinton."
With that, Jon turned and walked into the hall, heading toward his office to tend to his own affairs. Bill watched him go, a strange mix of awe and disbelief lingering in his mind. On the journey here, he had feared that the knight might be seeking a bribe or some other favor. Yet Jon had merely guided him to the proper place and left, a simple act of honesty and courtesy that Bill was almost unprepared for.
After a moment, Bill shook himself from his daze and turned toward the table Jon had indicated. Before he could even sit, the clerk at the table looked up and greeted him warmly. "Hello! What business brings you here today?"
Flustered but polite, Bill replied quickly, "I'm here to apply for a business license. I've brought a batch of goods from King's Landing and hope to sell them in Oros City."
The clerk's eyes lit up at the mention of trade. "Excellent! Oros City welcomes all merchants eager to do business here. We guarantee the safety of your life and property within our territory."
"Are you planning to establish a permanent shop in the city, or will you be a traveling merchant?" the clerk asked.
Bill paused, unsure of the distinction. "Is there a difference?" he asked cautiously.
The clerk leaned forward, his expression serious yet patient. "It's a significant difference. Prince Gaimon's regulations are clear. Traveling merchants can only operate in designated areas and do not qualify for tax benefits. You will need to pay full business taxes during your operations. On the other hand, if you choose to settle here as a sedentary merchant, the advantages are considerable. You can conduct business across the territory, enjoy certain tax exemptions, and receive additional benefits."
The prospect of settling in Oros was tempting. Bill's mind raced with possibilities—the security, the tax advantages, and the chance to establish himself in a more stable environment. Yet his cautious nature prevailed. He knew that appearances could be deceiving. He needed to understand the city's inner workings before making such a commitment.
Sensing his hesitation, the clerk continued patiently. He explained the distinctions between traveling and sedentary merchants in detail, outlining the obligations, taxes, and protections offered by the city. Bill listened intently, taking mental notes and asking occasional clarifying questions. It was clear that the clerk was used to this routine; after all, Oros City saw a constant flow of merchants seeking licenses every day. He answered Bill's questions without annoyance, treating each inquiry as part of his daily duties.
As Bill absorbed the information, he began to feel more confident. The city's regulations were complex, but they were fair. He appreciated the transparency of the system—so different from the treacherous bureaucracy of King's Landing, where even the simplest transaction often came with hidden costs. Here, he could see a clear path forward, provided he followed the rules.
Finally, after a long conversation, Bill felt ready to make his decision. He would start by applying for the license and then carefully consider whether to remain a traveling merchant or establish a permanent shop. Either way, the first step was taken, and it had been made possible by Jon Clinton, a knight whose guidance had been unexpectedly kind and straightforward.
As Bill signed the necessary documents and handed them back to the clerk, he reflected on the chain of events that had brought him here. From the streets of King's Landing to this grand hall in Oros City, the journey had been fraught with uncertainty and hesitation. Yet, at this moment, a sense of hope and possibility settled over him. Perhaps this new city, with its fair rules and welcoming environment, could offer him the stability he had long sought.
The clerk smiled at Bill as he completed the paperwork. "Welcome to Oros City, sir. May your business prosper and your ventures thrive."
Bill returned the smile, a genuine warmth spreading through him. "Thank you. I hope so."
He glanced back at the hall, where sunlight continued to pour through the massive windows, illuminating the polished tiles and the orderly rows of benches. In that moment, he felt a strange mixture of relief and anticipation. The path ahead would not be easy, but for the first time in a long while, he felt that he was walking it honestly, without fear of deception or hidden agendas.
And for that, he owed a silent thanks to Jon Clinton, the knight who had shown him that even in a world dominated by power and influence, integrity still had a place.
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