The sun was just beginning to rise. As its light spread across the earth, the shadows of a massive city overlapped one another. Built at the base of a slanted mountain, the city radiated out in a semi-circle from the castle. The layers were almost like rings, from where the nobility resided near the grand estates, to the main shops, trading posts and inns, to the much humbler homes of the city's inhabitants. Farmlands were scattered out in the fields, where a strip of unused land acted as an unspoken barrier from where a thick forest gradually crowded in. Roads reached out in several directions, flowing to and from the city.
Within the noble manors, one was set slightly apart by the placement of several small towers along its corners. Some saw it as a paranoid choice, to allow the owners to see out over the closest rooftops. All of the windows were currently locked up tight, though the neighbors whispered how one tower in particular had a lamp that would light then go out at the same times each night and morning.
Sitting in a large dining hall, the mansion's owner was already awake. Sheafs of papers scattered across the tabletop. Ledgers and accountings were being read over with a critical eye, the previous day's mail, opened, stacked at his elbow. Dressed in deep blue, his brown hair was slicked back from dark eyes. An almost permanent frown pulled at one corner of his mouth. One hand held a letter, the other smoothing away invisible wrinkles from his overcoat. The letter was an invitation to one of the many luncheons the nobility held for one another.
It was a constant game they all played, and one he used to his advantage. While many turned a blind eye or pretended to be sympathetic to the stories of whipped and wounded slaves, others still advocated their use under the guise of simple servants. There were ways to bind another living being, be the human or non-human. He had his resources with means to do so, and it was a profitable business. Lately, however, he had been concerned.
Not even a year ago, another of the gentry had passed away, leaving the control of their wealth and businesses within the hands of their lone child. The fact they were female had caused quite the stir. He did not get along with this family, before or after. She was a perceptive woman, and he knew her bloodline had always disagreed with the trafficking of magical creatures. She had no doubt been sent an invitation for today as well.
Placing the letter down, Alexander Courier pressed his fingertips together, peering sightlessly down at the table. He was running out of patience. There was a very clear answer of what he could do. His personal little secret, one that had whispers and rumors all throughout the city's underbelly. No one could link it back to him, of course. This had to be done carefully. If he was to be rid of this annoyance, he needed to wait for the perfect time.
Getting to his feet, the aging man left the table and headed for his rooms, issuing orders to the servants to make the preparations for the even later that morning.
