As the horse-drawn carriage bearing the Nightingale mark drove into the Northern Border, Greya’s last shred of doubt, as described by Chancellor Caudic, was dispelled.
Looking out the window, it was even more tragic than Caudic’s portrayal of the Northern Border.
Recently, due to the intensifying activities of the resistance fighters, numerous nobles had actively dispatched troops to protect Greya.
Of course, these nobles were not genuinely worried that the resistance would attack the Nightingale Opera House; after all, the discipline of the resistance might be stronger than that of their armies.
What these nobles truly feared was that some unruly military commanders from their territories would rob the Nightingale Opera House’s convoy, as those commanders would seize anything they could.
The convoy of the Nightingale Opera House moved very slowly, because whenever Greya spotted beggars on the street, she would stop the convoy to offer assistance.
Although the steward of the Nightingale Opera House complained about this matter, there was nothing to be done; Greya’s influence was too great, and she was the beloved daughter of the Nightingale Opera House. Thus, even though the convoy was filled with murmurs of discontent, no one opposed her.
“The child hasn’t eaten for two days. The last meal he had was when his father snatched some sweet tree bark from someone else.”
This was a specialty of the Northern Border, usually added in small quantities to porridge to enhance sweetness; hardly anyone considered it a staple food, after all, it was just sweet tree bark.
But now, in winter, the already scarce sweet trees were hardly seen at all.
Hearing this made Greya’s heart ache. She pulled out a soft loaf of bread handed to her by a servant and placed it in the child’s hands, who immediately devoured it.
The woman watching her child swallow the bread swallowed hard herself. Greya immediately waved her hand and said, “Let’s eat right here; prepare some food for this lady as well.”
“Thank you, Miss! Thank you, Miss!”
The woman was about to kneel and bow her head; although she wanted to kiss Greya’s shoes, she clearly felt unworthy.
After the woman had eaten her fill, she finally regained some strength and began to chat with Greya.
“We could have survived, since the child’s father is an artisan and we had some savings. Perhaps we could save enough to send the child to the church school.”
“But isn’t the church school free?”
Greya was somewhat puzzled. All the way here, the Northern Border indeed resembled Caudic’s description, but somehow it felt different.
“It was originally free, but since the duke died, life has become increasingly difficult. Now, the church school requires gifts for the priests to even enroll.”
Greya paused upon hearing this but patiently held the woman’s thin, dark hand and continued to listen to her story.
“We used to have a little money, but then Lord Doug—”
A nearby servant corrected her, “That’s Governor.”
“Oh, Lord Governor.”
The woman awkwardly continued to say the unfamiliar term: “Governor Doug issued currency, and everyone must use this currency for transactions. If caught using the old money, all of it will be confiscated.”
“It was still usable at first, as this new currency seemed to buy more things. Every day, soldiers would say that this money was produced by the royal alchemist summoned by the governor and that it would never be overissued. Others couldn’t imitate it, and in brief, everything seemed fine. Our family didn’t understand and exchanged all our old money for it.”
“And then the money was all gone. We only exchanged for a few thousand, but later, one loaf of bread cost over a hundred thousand. The child’s father had to rush to spend his wages daily, or else the money would lose its value. Eventually, no one would hire him anymore because everyone ran out of money, and he could only sell himself to a lord for a meal.”
After finishing, the thin, dark woman couldn’t help but cry.
“Can I see the new currency?”
Once Greya asked, the child handed over a snot-stained piece of paper. The servant tried to stop her, but Greya accepted it anyway.
This was indeed a bill, featuring Doug’s likeness. Perhaps it was because Doug had abandoned the Northern Wind Bear’s heraldry, hence he had to print his own image, or perhaps it was merely his vanity.
Greya lightly tugged on it and immediately realized the paper’s poor quality; it was no better than the paper she used in the toilet.
The nobles along the way hadn’t mentioned these matters at all; they were still trading using the old silver leaf coins and had no need for this new money.
Looking at the mother and child in front of her, Greya wanted to take out some silver leaf coins to help them, but considering that these coins could not be used for transactions now and might be confiscated by soldiers, she could only ask the servant to leave some food behind before braving the snow and leaving the small hole where the mother and child lived.
There was no need to worry about food and supplies; once they reached the next territory, the local lord would flatteringly replenish what Greya needed. This was also why Greya could help along the way.
Days later than expected, Greya finally arrived at River Valley, which was Sean, Doug’s nephew’s territory, and now had become Doug’s main city.
No one knew if it was because this place was the richest or because the resistance was most intense here, necessitating Doug’s personal suppression.
“Honored lady, your arrival has made even the Northern Border’s wind and snow bewitched.”
Doug, dressed in his most splendid attire, came out of the city to greet her, but what Greya first noticed was not Doug’s wildly shimmering outfit but the somewhat desolate streets in the distance.
Although she had always held prejudice against the Northern Border, River Valley had been considered a rich and prosperous area for most nobles. Even in winter, the merchants and lights on the streets were continuous, making it hard to imagine this desolate place looking like a dead city was the richest city in the Northern Border.
Greya nodded absentmindedly, not really absorbing Doug’s subsequent flattery.
Once inside the city, the sense of desolation struck her face more directly. As they entered the inner city, Greya felt a familiar sensation—the intoxicating aroma of decadence.
This feeling was even stronger than when she was in the royal capital.
That evening, Doug introduced Greya in the most grandiose way possible.
“Honorable ladies and gentlemen,
This evening, we are fortunate to welcome the glory of this city, the artist who has captivated countless hearts. Every note she sings seems like starlight falling from the heavens; every melody feels like a gentle touch caressing the soul.
She is the elf on stage, with her unparalleled talent, elevating the opera to new heights. Her performance is not merely a display of skill but a resonance of emotion and a sublimation of the soul. Every appearance she makes is a refreshing experience for the heart.”
The nobles all stood up to applaud.
A section of the castle had been specially transformed by Doug to resemble an opera house. Feeling the familiar atmosphere, Greya soon took the stage, supported by magical effects, and captivated the nobles below with an astonishing performance.
Greya’s primary purpose in coming to the Northern Border was to perform for charity and raise funds. The nobles in the audience were also generous.
But Greya knew that these nobles didn’t care where the money went; they even thought of the money as tips for themselves. As for fundraising, if these nobles had genuine goodwill, then they wouldn’t let the subjects in their territories gnaw on tree bark.
Greya’s subsequent state was not good. The opera quickly came to an end, but the nobles didn’t mind; after all, Greya’s opera was quite mainstream, which meant many nobles did not particularly like her.
Moreover, for these nobles, the most important significance of Greya’s visit was to provide an occasion for social interaction; the opera was merely a diversion during the ball.
Even though Doug was crazily showcasing himself in front of Greya, even transitioning from poetry to discussing the origins of opera, Greya’s focus was entirely on a nearby noble bragging about how much he had earned using Doug’s currency, giving Doug only superficial responses.
She had seen too many of this type of character in the royal capital, and their aims were only two: to climb into her bed or to have her climb into theirs, with Doug being the most impatient among them.
The person in charge of the Nightingale Opera House stepped in to continue the conversation between Greya and Doug. Greya was now the lifeblood of the Nightingale Opera House; she wouldn’t sell her body even for more money.
The people of the Northern Border were truly suffering, Greya lamented deeply in her heart, increasingly anxious about her upcoming journey to Graywhite Territory.
If even Doug’s territory, which had embraced freedom from the royal capital, was enduring such misery, how could the Graywhite Territory, known as the Devil’s Viscount’s domain, fare any better?
Worse still, within Doug’s territory, the nobles would still assist out of their own face, but once they reached the western part of the Northern Border, how much would they receive then? Would their faces still hold any value?
