"Ivan Westwood. I am here for the confirmation documents regarding the land purchase in Begies," he said, handing over the receipt and a paper detailing the exact location.
The official took the documents and cross-referenced them with the register, murmuring to himself, "1,420A. 2R. 15P. (1,420 Acres, 2 Roods, 15 Perches)." The man's graze lingered on Ivan's face for a moment.
"Alright. Please proceed inside after paying at the counter," the official said. As Ivan moved away, the official noted the names of his companions: "Marianne and Saleen." He stared at their headscarves—not at the woman's, but at the way the man wore his.
Saleen looked around at the crowd with curiosity, while Marianne stood stiffly, both hands gripping her leather bag. Their presence prompted a vampire official to intercept them. "Navial Basin, Sub-collector," he introduced himself sharply.
"Marianne and Saleen," she replied innocently, introducing both herself and the man. "We are here with our master."
The vampire's brows drew together at the sight of humans left free without collars. "Hmph. Slaves," he scoffed under his breath. "The purebloods certainly have a habit of these lavish displays." A malicious thought crossed his mind: a human not marked by a collar didn't technically need to be reported if a few sips were taken.
"Slaves are not permitted to stand here. Move to the waiting room on the right," Navial commanded, signaling toward a room filled with chained humans. Many wore torn clothes and were covered in bruises; some wore collars, while a few others had been dolled up like playthings.
Marianne and Saleen glanced at the room. Saleen blurted out, "I won't stand there. And I don't think others should have to either, especially given how they are being treated."
The vampire's fury flared at the slave's audacity. "You dare speak to me that way? You need to be disciplined immediately." He signaled the guards, who began shoving the humans toward the room.
Saleen was slammed against the wall, and Marianne fell to her knees before they were forced inside. The vampires locked the gate behind them. The room was barely spacious enough to stand in and reeked of filth and neglect.
Inside the main office, Ivan had just completed the documentation process. He walked back to where he had left Marianne and Saleen, his brows arching on finding the spot empty. He scanned the hall and spotted them in the cramped chamber; Saleen was huddled in a corner while Marianne was being surrounded by several men.
Something snapped within. Just as he walked to the chamber , the door unlocked itself. The vampire who had pushed them inside interrupted him.
"Sire, let the guards handle that. These humans aren't worth the pampering," he said, standing a few steps away from the silver-haired man.
Ivan didn't look at him. "Step away from her," he commanded. The metal crunched with sound at his grip. His voice carried a stern authority that the men inside the cell followed instinctively. The tearful Marianne was left trembling in the corner. "Marianne, Saleen. Come here."
Ivan reached them before the brunette woman could even stand. Bending down, he began to dust off their clothe sending a shockwave of silence through the entire office, some left with hanging mouths.
"Who did this?" Ivan asked.
The atmosphere thickened as the heavy silence followed. The head of the staff, Brandon, walked out to investigate the sudden quiet. He saw the sub-collector, Navial, beginning to sweat, immediately understand the situation.
Navial stepped forward hesitantly. Brandon tried to ease the tension, saying, "Mr. Westwood, please, calm yourself. It is the rule for slaves. I assume that is no secret to you."
But Ivan didn't bother to acknowledge the head official. He simply stared at the vampire, his gaze cold and unwavering.