The carriage had driven to a building in the Second Sector of the Middle District. The structure was not too bad in appearance. They dropped Garfield off and provided him with some money—ten Gold to be exact.
"Use that money to acquire new clothes. The garments you are wearing now are… hardly befitting of one aspiring to attain a position of high standing," Lord Redgrave declared.
Veronica smiled warmly as she waved goodbye to her newly discovered brother.
"Your room is on the second floor of the building. At the end of each month, you will be provided with food and funds for any additional expenses." With these words, Lord Redgrave struck the floor of the carriage with the base of his cane.
Francis slowly closed the door, and with that, the carriage continued on its way. Garfield looked down at his hand and counted the ten Gold he had been given. He had not learned much at the orphanage, but among the few things he did understand was how currency functioned within Constella. One Gold was equivalent to five Silver, and one Silver was worth ten Bronze.
Ten Gold was a sum rarely seen in the possession of those of lesser blood, and such a sight would undoubtedly invite judgment or speculation as to why a young boy carried so much wealth. Garfield tightened his grip around the ten Gold coins and ascended the stairs to the second floor.
He opened the wooden door to find a modest room furnished with a bed, a study table stacked with books, and a small bathroom. Garfield had no use for a kitchen, as meals would be delivered to him rather than prepared by his own hand. The room was small, though still larger than the cramped quarters he had endured before. He approached the bed, pressed his weight upon it, testing its firmness, and then sat down with a long exhale.
Cough! Cough! Cough!
The room was heavy with dust, and the stale air caught in his throat. He hurried to the window above his study table, pushing it open to allow the suffocating particles to drift outside. Using his hand as a fan, he helped guide the dust out into the open air. Leaning against the sill, he inhaled deeply—the air was fresh, clean, and warm upon his chest, a complete contrast to the suffocating cold of the orphanage.
He turned his gaze back to the bed, where the ten Gold coins still lay.
"I suppose I should go look for a place to buy some clothes."
Taking five Gold with him, Garfield stepped outside. At the corner of the block, the street name came into view—Silver Street. A carriage rolled down the road, and Garfield quickly signaled for it to halt. It stopped, and he climbed inside. The coachman opened a small sliding window for conversation.
"Good day, young sir. Is there a particular place you wish to go?" the coachman inquired.
Garfield met the man's eyes before speaking.
"I am looking for a place to purchase clothing. Do you know of any nearby?"
"Hmm… I believe there are three within close proximity. There's Silver's Purchase, Kenway's Boutique, and Utopia Clothing. Which one do you wish to visit?"
Garfield ran his fingers through his hair and tapped his foot against the carriage floor.
"Do you have any recommendations?"
"That depends on your budget, I suppose. Silver's Purchase is the most expensive, Utopia Clothing offers decent attire at a fair price—though I've heard their garments wear out quickly. The best choice, in my opinion, would be Kenway's Boutique. The prices are reasonable, and the quality is among the finest you'll find in the Middle District," the coachman said with a smile.
Garfield considered his options carefully before revealing his decision.
"Let's go to Kenway's Boutique."
He tipped his ivy cap, closed the small window, and the carriage set off.
The journey was not long; only a few blocks later, Garfield stepped out before the newly opened boutique. The establishment was still fresh in appearance yet had already earned popularity among the Second Sector's residents.
Garfield turned to the coachman. "So, how much will it be?"
"From Silver Street to here… that will be one Gold," the coachman replied.
An elderly gentleman in a finely tailored suit happened to be passing by. Upon hearing the coachman's words, he paused at the boutique door, glancing back toward the boy.
Garfield reached into his pocket for the payment, but before he could hand over the coin, the elderly man placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The coachman chuckled awkwardly.
"Whatever do you mean? I'm simply charging for the work I've done."
The elderly man's eyes narrowed.
"You and I both know the fare from Silver Street to here is not one Gold. Are you attempting to exploit this boy simply because you believe he knows no better?"
"So what?" the coachman replied heatedly. "The price I set is the price I charge for my work."
The elderly man stepped forward, drawing Garfield away from the carriage.
"Is that so? Tell me, are your prices sanctioned by the workers' union? As far as I am aware, the fares in the Middle District are fixed. Since you seem intent on imposing your own rates, I imagine they would be most interested to hear about this."
The coachman froze, beads of sweat trickling down his face. Caught in the act, he shifted his gaze aside before muttering the true price.
"Two Silver… that's the fare."
The elderly man gave a thin smile, retrieving his wallet from within his suit jacket. He counted out two Silver and handed it to the coachman.
"I trust this will not happen again."
With a tip of his ivy cap, the coachman turned to leave.
The man shook his head before facing Garfield, who had silently observed the confrontation.
"He was attempting to charge you far more than the actual fare. Next time, learn the prices of your destinations before you travel—some coachmen make a habit of this sort of thing."
"Thank you, sir. But I cannot allow you to pay on my behalf; please, let me pay you back."
The man waved dismissively.
"No need. You've come to purchase clothing from my boutique, have you not? You may repay me by doing that instead," he said with a genial smile, walking toward the boutique's door.
Garfield slipped his money back into his pocket and followed. Before they entered, he asked the gentleman's name.
The man removed his top hat, placing it over his chest.
"My name is Albert Kenway."