Chapter 1: The Earl of Flowervale

Five years later...

Several luxurious horse-drawn carriages were driving in a thick, dense fog. In the depths of the heavy mist, one could faintly see a series of low, dilapidated stone buildings.

The doors of the carriages depicted a delicately lined anemone flower, the heraldic device of a certain nobleman.

The sky, the earth, and everything around them was gray, and the clammy air penetrated through the gaps in the windows, carrying the odor of mildew and rotten wood.

In the lead carriage, a man tightly closed the window and muttered, "God, the smell is so bad!"

He covered his nose and mouth, revealing only a pair of brown eyes filled with disgust.

He was wearing a white shirt and red velvet jacket, black velvet breeches, and leather boots. He had sprayed heavy perfume on his neck and wrists, his cheeks were powdered and colored with rouge, and his long red hair was tied behind his head with a white silk ribbon. He was as exquisitely dressed as a nobleman.

But he wasn't a nobleman. He was just a nobleman's servant.

As long as the master they served had great enough wealth, lower class people like him could live more luxuriously than third-rate nobility.

He took a perfumed handkerchief from his pocket, wafted it several times in the air, then complained in a mocking tone, "It's hard to imagine the great Grande would be such an inferior place!"

The other servant sitting beside him also sneered, "Five years ago, the city of Desolette was a hundred times better than this!"

But that wasn't true.

Desolette was named for the word "desolation". The city of Desolette was originally a deserted city. The people there were hungry from morning till night. They couldn't even afford enough clothes to cover their bodies.

Even the old earl and countess who ruled the city fell seriously ill because of the lack of food throughout the year. Later, they couldn't afford medical treatment, and eventually both passed away.

But Grande's name was from the word meaning "great". Grande City was indeed a great city, and it was also the richest city on the continent of Tortus. Although it was part of the Gloria Empire, it possessed completely independent political, military, and legislative powers.

It was said the wealth of the Lord of Grande was the highest in the entire continent of Tortus. If Charles III hadn't married the eldest daughter of the lord of Grande, he likely wouldn't have become king. The huge dowry and massive army brought by the queen helped the king clear all obstacles.

Therefore, Grande City was even more famous than Polsa, the capital of Gloria, and it was a paradise that everyone yearned for.

The two servants belittled Grande as nothing, but this was merely the inferiority complex of an upstart comparing himself to others. They came from the city of Desolette, which used to be the poorest part of Tortus.

But it wasn't anymore.

After the death of the previous earl, their young master Earl Jian Qiao made great efforts to develop floral horticulture and the mining industry. He invented unique fragrance-making techniques and jewelry processing technology, which lifted Desolette City out of poverty. In just five years it had become one of the richest cities on the continent of Tortus.

Today Desolette City was rich in rare perfumes, flowers, cosmetics, and jewelry, and these commodities were precisely the treasures every noble cherished most. They were willing to spend a lot of money to buy such luxury goods from Desolette.

Every year the taxes paid by the city of Desolette increased, and the increase was very large, which finally attracted the attention of Charles III. Because of this, in the beginning of spring that year, Earl Jian Qiao, the ruler of the city, received an invitation to attend the king's birthday celebration for the first time.

Going to Polsa to attend the king's birthday was a signal of whether a nobleman had reached the top of the pyramid. There was no doubt Jian Qiao had achieved it.

Because of this, his sobriquet had changed from the former "Lord of the Deserted City" to the current "Earl of Flowervale".

One would inevitably encounter bandits on the way to Polsa, so every nobleman brought his own knights, and these knights together were no small military force.

Charles III had no confidence in his ability to suppress this force. He made all the nobles go to Grande first to unload their weaponry and equipment and leave behind the members of the knightly orders. Then they could bring two servants into Polsa to participate in the banquet.

Jian Qiao had brought a dozen knights, and he had to arrange these people in Grande before he could meet the king.

The mist outside the window blurred Jian Qiao's vision.

He slightly pursed his lips, revealing a look of uneasiness.

Because of his childhood experience, he hated dense fog, but unfortunately the continent of Tortus was a place that was shrouded in rain and dense fog throughout the year. Clear sunny days were as rare as diamonds on the ground.

He rubbed his temples and between his eyebrows in an attempt to drive the memories of his past life from the depths of his mind, but he was distracted by a noise outside the window.

Through the dense mist, he could see the vague shape of a gallows. On it hung the body of a man with his head covered by a hood. The man's body kept twitching, and his feet were surrounded by a crowd of ragged commoners. These people were waving their fists and shouting loudly, "Hang him, hang him, hang him...."

The dying man's body soon grew stiff. After the executioner cut him down, a group of people swarmed around, quickly stripped his clothes, and then ran away.

Those who had managed to snatch the clothes gave triumphant smiles, those who hadn't wanted to swear, and the children clapped their hands and happily jumped about.

The pale corpse was in full view of onlookers without any covering, but it didn't cause alarm.

The people living here didn't seem to be affected by death, nor did they feel compassion. Since they couldn't get any sunshine year round, they naturally didn't know how it felt to bathe in warmth. The nobles above the common people only knew wasteful extravagance, indulgence, and vying for power.

This was the continent of Tortus, a land laden with poverty and callousness, but also full of opulence and sensual diversions.

People, plants, and animals, everything in this place grew savagely. Gray was its main color, and gloom was its most essential trait.

Jian Qiao stared at the empty gallows with unfocused eyes, then hastily looked away.

This place was like a reflection of his true heart, so he couldn't face it directly.

...****************...

The execution shut the nagging mouths of the two servants.

After passing through the small town in the fog, the great Grande was before them.

"It is said that Rege, the second son of the Duke of Grande, is a very domineering person. A few years ago, an earl lightly nudged his shoulder as he walked down the street, which offended him. He cut off the man's arm on the spot."

After holding back for a while the servant spoke again. He couldn't control his mouth.

The other servant looked at the master who was sitting in the front seat with his eyes closed, dozing. He whispered in agreement, "That's true, I heard the same thing! Lord Rege's temper is very hot. Gloria's most powerful nobles don't dare to be presumptuous before him."

"So we must be careful this time not to offend this Lord Rege. Although he isn't the eldest son of the Duke of Grande and has no inheritance rights, his sister is the Queen of Gloria. Her Royal Highness will definitely pressure her father to pass on the title of duke to her younger brother."

"Ah, that's for sure. Lord Rege will certainly inherit Grande and become the most powerful nobleman in Tortus."

"They say his only hobby is collecting beauties. Should we buy some women

from a bordello to present to him?"

"It's best to prepare a few. When I get to Grande, I'll go out and inquire about the most famous madam in the city."

The two murmured to discuss. Jian Qiao, who was sitting in the front seat, suddenly raised his hand and swayed it left and right. This meant not to make trouble.

The two servants hurriedly halted their thoughts about finding beauties.

In Jian Qiao's opinion, the only way to maintain a good relationship with the legendary Duke's son was to stay away from him and not meet him at any time. Since he didn't know the other man's nature, there would be no chance of a contradiction.

However, this really wasn't so. When a person's edge is too sharp, even if they don't meet, other sharp-edged people will be rancorous or even hostile.

Contradictions always grow in the dark.

...****************...

A tall man was holding a paintbrush and slowly applying color to the canvas.

On the red velvet sofa not far in front of him, a curvaceous noble lady was reclining lazily, wearing a thin Roman gown. Her golden hair slid down her curved shoulders, spreading all over the ground. In this country full of heavy gray fog, blond hair was as precious as sunshine.

People with blond hair were always able to attract a lot of love and favor.

The lady pulled the neckline of her gown very low to reveal her décolletage,

glanced down at herself to confirm she was lovely, and then looked at the man

who was painting intently.

The man also had dazzling blond hair. It was tied behind his head with a black silk ribbon, revealing an extremely handsome face. This face was prone to making people absent-minded. They couldn't help but think of the god of the sun who lived high in the sky and rarely saw the earth year round.

The man wasn't like the noblemen nowadays who liked luxurious dress. Generally speaking, he was a bit rough. He wore a white silk shirt unbuttoned, revealing a broad chest. Both sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, showing his strong forearms. Below this he wore tight-fitting trousers and a pair of black boots.

The simple clothes gave prominence to his exceedingly tall and straight figure.

The silk shirt exuded a unique luster and appeared very textured. This was a rare fabric from the East that very few people in the entire aristocracy could afford. The price of a single piece of cloth was worth more than its weight in gold.

However, when worn by the man, the luster of this expensive fabric was far less attractive than the sexy creases that appeared when his strong muscles stretched the fabric.

Have you ever seen a lion patrolling the savanna? As they prowl, the muscles of their bodies tense, bunch up, and lengthen. The untamed fierceness is fascinating and unnerving.

The man standing before the canvas was such a lion. Even in a static pose, he was full of breathtaking vitality.

He was dangerous, but at the same time casual and indolent.

The lady gazed at him with infatuation, but his eyes were only on his

paintbrush and the canvas.

Suddenly, a man dressed as a nobleman opened the door and hurried into the studio. Without looking at the beautiful lady, he walked straight to the blond man and murmured in a low voice, "Rege, the Earl of Flowervale is here. His perfume shop and jewelry store robbed us of a lot of business. Would you like to meet him? Don't forget, Miss Lilith turned down your invitation because of her infatuation with him. Haven't you been pursuing her recently? He's your rival!"

The blond man stepped back two steps, squinted at the lady lying on the sofa, and did not react to these provocative words.

The nobleman gritted his teeth and spoke again, "Rege, I know you have your principles, but Grande is your territory. The Earl of Flowervale robbed your interests and seduced your woman in your own domain. Isn't that an offence to you?"

Rege hooked the corner of his lips, a trace of contempt in his unconcerned smile.

But this contempt was not aimed at the Earl of Flowervale, but at the nobleman in front of him. He knew too well what this man wanted to encourage him to do. A small lord without a fief naturally could not offend an earl with an independent city-state, so he needed a strong backing.

He meant Rege to be this backing.

Rege stared at the canvas, then looked up at the lady who wasn't very far away. He continued to add details with a brush.

As the lord's eyes followed, he thought of a better argument. "Lately, everyone in fashionable society is saying that Lord Rege chases women around all day, but the Earl of Flowervale is chased by women all day. In terms of charm, the Earl of Flowervale is superior overall. When someone compares you like this and you lose, aren't you offended?"

Rege's busy brush stopped on the canvas.

At this moment, the lady lying on the sofa spoke up. "It's said the Earl of Flowervale has the power to charm people at a glance. Anyone who's seen him falls madly in love with him. God, is he coming to Grande? I can't wait!"

The lady held her pounding heart with her snow-white hands. Her cheeks blushed shyly.

With a soft click, Rege threw away the paintbrush in his hand and picked up the black coat that was randomly placed on the windowsill. His voice sneered, "Let's go and meet this Earl of Flowervale. If he's nothing like the legend and has no charm or elegance at all, I'll grab him by the back of the neck and parade him up and down the street. I'll let everyone appreciate this so-called charm."

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