[Mkguild] Life IV: Everything in its Right Place - A

[Jack Moore]

AN: Trying something a little different here, bare with me,

Life IV: Everything in its Right Place

Jack
Before I continue my day for you my friend, I’d like to take a slight
aside.  Because to understand just why watching people go to work
fascinated me so much, you need to understand what I was trained to do.
Because being a noble?  It doesn’t train you in many things besides
collecting taxes.  And I like to think I was quite good at collecting taxes.
Now in the Sathmore Empire being a noble is one part authority to two parts
ballet.  Everything the nobles do is considered a reflection of the
Emperor, because we are the Emperor’s fingers.  We touch the whole Empire
and like a good hand we choke the life out of it.
In 411 Emperor Palaiologos authored The Book of Noble Conduct.  What it was
was a list of ways nobles were expected to behave in and out of the court.
For example, anytime I carried out any official function, I had to wear
blue shoes with eagles embroidered on them.  Blue being the color of
nobles, eagles because I was in line for the throne (fourth in line by my
count).  They were incredibly uncomfortable, but by Imperial law I had to
wear them.
The dress and ritual with which we conducted Imperial buisness was a
massive pain in the ass.  But it was done to remind the people they had
nothing to fear from the Nobility.  The Nobles may be above them, but the
Emperor was above the Nobles.  The dress and the ritual were a way of
showing their was order in the Empire.
“And that is why you will put on those bloody arm bands.”  My father said
to me.
“But they hurt!!!!” I whined.  I was nine years old.  My younger brother
was only three and right now I envied him.  Today I was going to get to sit
beside my father while we patrolled the city.  Today was tax day, everyone
in the city went to a designated booth and paid their taxes.
The Book of Noble Conduct said the Lord of a city must patrol it that day,
to remind people of their presence and why they need to pay their taxes.
They can refuse, but their Lord may choose to send the army to force them.

So I was in my golden and blue dalmatic, my cloak, my bright green girdle
fringed with gold (we in Sathmore love us some gold) and now my father was
adding golden arm bands.  My dalmatic was already covered with brand new
pearls, weighing my chest down.  The girdle also had pearls, making it
heavy too.

Add into that a bunch of arm pinching gold bands and you’ve got to be
wondering how easy was it for me to move.  Well it was very easy once you
gave up on trying to breathe.

And that was before the medals, ribbons and decorative sword were added!
Another thing you need to learn about Sathmore, our nobles love awarding
each other for being nobles.

My pants also had golden rings on them, embroidery and pearls up and down
the side with eagles all along them.  I’ve grown to despise eagles.
Finally the servants placed the last rings around my arms.  My father,
standing behind me, nodded in approval.

“Excellent.”  He stepped closer.  The two of us reflected in the mirror, I
couldn’t help but notice how similar I looked to him.  Except he had more
pearls and no eagles.  My father turned to a servant and gestured.
 “Tighter on the girdle.”

“Of course Lord Leontes.”  The servant grabbed the green fabric and
yanked.  I could see spots beginning to swirl around my eyes as my lungs
screamed for air.
“It’s about as good as it’ll get.” Leontes said.  “Next year decorate the
bands with rubies.  I want our dress to reflect our wealth.  The pleebs
must recognize us as their betters.”
“Yes Lord Leontes.”  One thing the servants had learned was how to
mindlessly agree.  Doing so kept you in a job.
“I don’t wanna collect stupid taxes.” I whined, pulling on the girdle.  My
father clocked me on the side of the head with his ruby ring.
“Silence boy.” He snapped.  “What you want is irrelivent.  You are to be a
high Lord of the Sathmore Empire.  You must present yourself as such.”  I
bit my tongue before I could stick it at him.  Last thing I needed was
another wap.
As we exited the Manor, my father’s guards followed us in a circle.  Being
the guy who collects taxes makes you unpopular.  Being an absolute bastard
makes you unpopular.  And my father combined both elements!  Our guards had
on multiple occasions spared him from assassination.  I would have the
first attempt on my life later that year actually.
When you’re in line for the throne you’ve always got people trying to bump
you off so they can hop up the line.
At the stables our horses were already secured.  My father somehow had
secured a colt that looked identical to his stallion.  Down to the same
white mark on the forehead, it made me look even more like his clone.
“I don’t wanna ride…”  My hands shook as I held onto my fresh reins.  “It’s
too fast!”  We were trotting along at roughly the speed of tree.  I like
horses as animals, I just don’t like riding on them.

AN: Yes The Book of Noble Conduct is a real thing.
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