Tower of Paradise

Chapter 116: Sherazade (2)

I stood up slowly, brushing the dust off my clothes with quick movements. This could be the perfect opportunity to complete the investigation mission I had been assigned.

—My name is Reinhardt —I introduced myself with a slight, respectful bow, meticulously applying the manners I had studied in books. At ten years old, I knew courtesy opened doors that strength could not—. I appreciate your generosity.

I noticed how my reddish-brown hair fell over my forehead as I bowed.

—Delighted to meet you, Reinhardt! —she replied with a smile that seemed kind—. I’m Daphne Eisenberg. Come on, you must be exhausted and hungry.

As they guided me toward the carriage, I discreetly analyzed the guards surrounding us. They were well-trained professionals, possibly «ex-vigilants» judging by their posture and constant alertness. Their uniforms, elegant yet functional, with discreet insignias embroidered on the cuffs, suggested that the Eisenberg family wielded considerable influence and wealth.

The vigilants formed the backbone of security in the capital. More than a mere police force, they were the most prestigious military arm, revered for ensuring peace in Sherazade and access to resources that allowed its citizens to prosper. Their authority surpassed that of any other military faction, as they were commanded by the Eight Exalted Clans.

Their responsibilities were vast: they patrolled the streets of Danafor and Sherazade, guarded the Church and the Council building, investigated crimes, arrested wrongdoers, and enforced the laws dictated by the Councilors. They also oversaw high-ranking officials, collected taxes, distributed lands, and, in their highest role, served as the royal guard. With various departments and ranks under their command, the vigilants didn’t just maintain order—they embodied it.

The interior of the carriage was even more luxurious than I had anticipated: seats upholstered in blue velvet, meticulous details in polished wood that seemed to be imported oak, and small crystal lamps emitting a warm light, likely powered by high-quality oil. I sat carefully, aware that my worn clothes contrasted sharply with the surroundings. This contrast could serve to reinforce my cover story.

—Where are you from, Reinhardt? —Daphne asked as the carriage began to move with a gentle sway over the cobblestone streets.

I quickly weighed my options. An elaborate lie could crumble under specific questions, while a partial truth would be more sustainable and allow me to maintain consistency over time. Sometimes, being frank was the best way to solve a problem. Of course, it required skill. There were things that could be said and things that couldn’t, and the order in which they were said mattered.

—From a small settlement on the outskirts.—I replied with deliberate vagueness, observing her reaction to gauge my next response—. I came to Sherazade seeking better opportunities.

Daphne nodded understandingly, and I noticed her eyes reflected genuine curiosity, not the condescension I had expected. This suggested she might be less prejudiced than others of her social class.

—The capital attracts many with its promises. Do you have any skills or profession? —she asked, leaning slightly forward.

—I’m observant, I learn quickly —I chose each word carefully, revealing part of my true nature without committing myself—. I’m particularly interested in systems, how things and people work.

—Fascinating —her eyes sparkled with genuine interest—. My father always says true intelligence lies not in knowing the answers but in asking the right questions.

That response intrigued me. It suggested an unconventional education for a young woman of her status.

As we moved through Sherazade’s illuminated streets, I gazed at the mansions and administrative buildings passing by, each more impressive than the last. The carriage finally turned onto a tree-lined avenue and stopped in front of an imposing three-story residence that looked more like a luxurious castle, with finely carved marble columns and wide windows reflecting the evening light.

—Welcome to my home —Daphne announced with an expansive gesture, but without the arrogance I might have expected.

I stepped out of the carriage cautiously, instinctively assessing escape routes and defensive points. The Eisenberg mansion was an elegant fortress, with meticulously designed gardens that provided not only beauty but also a clear field of view toward the entrances. I identified at least eight guards patrolling discreetly among the hedges and statues. The security was impressive but not ostentatious, a sign of true wealth and power.

—It’s… impressive —I admitted honestly, allowing some of my awe to show in my expression.

Daphne smiled, pleased by my reaction, and I noticed a glint of pride in her eyes.

—Wait until you see the interior. My father collects wonders from around the world.

As we ascended the entrance steps, I noted how the guards followed at a respectful but vigilant distance. The massive carved oak doors—which I estimated weighed at least two hundred kilos each—opened silently, revealing a high-ceilinged vestibule adorned with frescoes and crystal chandeliers that must have been worth a small fortune.

—Welcome, Miss Daphne —an elderly butler greeted us with a perfectly calculated bow.

—Thank you, Edgar —she replied with cordial familiarity—. This is Reinhardt, our guest. Please prepare the guest room in the east wing and serve a light dinner in my study.

—Immediately, miss —the butler gave me a brief, evaluative but professional glance before disappearing down a side corridor. His posture and the way he discreetly scanned me suggested he likely had military or security training. He was no ordinary servant.

Daphne led me through hallways adorned with ancient paintings and statues. I followed with apparent nonchalance, but in reality, I was meticulously memorizing every turn and door, creating a mental map of the place as I always did in unfamiliar environments. I counted three possible alternative exits and estimated that the east wing, where I would stay, had direct access to the rear gardens, which could be useful if I needed a quick escape.

If the disappearances were linked to Sherazade’s elite, as Mica had suspected when assigning me this mission, I couldn’t have found a better position from which to investigate.

In the main room, centered around a luxurious fireplace covered with safety bars, Daphne’s family was taking tea. The room was adorned with large furniture that appeared to be imported mahogany and a glass table decorated with all sorts of exotic fruits on fine porcelain plates.

—Ah, Daphne’s brought someone again—commented a man seated in the main armchair.