With less than half a month left until the auction.
In the second performance of the day, a person with a slightly different coat color was mixed in.
At first glance, he was dressed like a townsman.
But the fabric is so good that you can see it even in the dim light.
Moreover, two elderly men are following around the left and right sides.
So they think they are dressed as townspeople, huh?
Or did they mean to provoke me with “You get the point, don’t you?”
After the second performance, the man who approached Amaranthia and me as we stepped off the stage was…
He identified himself as Gilbert Warren.
“I see you’re doing your own thing on the grounds of someone’s mansion.”
The big man looked down at me and Amaranthia.
If it were only his physique, he would be as big as Burgess.
Intimidating eyes.
Mouth slightly pouty and slightly open in a foolish way.
“I’m the one setting this up. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
I said that and tried to get Amaranthia to back off…
“Oh, please calm, that was just a lighthearted greeting. That’s not what we’re here for. I’m here today to talk to your bard.”
Gilbert Warren responded.
“What do you mean?”
I asked, and the valet stepped forward.
I will explain the details to you.
According to the story.
Recently, a rumor had begun to spread among the nobles about a talented minstrel performing in the western district and a theater-like company that was apparently making great sales by having the minstrel perform there.
“There was talk of imposing an immediate tax, or even of shutting down such theaters. They had looked into it, and they found that it was to be held in the Warren family’s detached house.”
Gilbert Warren said.
So.
It seems that he had come to take a peek at the bard, who was the talk of the town among the nobles.
“It was hard to believe a noble himself had come to meet that bard.”
I was unintentionally sarcastic.
Sir Warren did not care about my sarcasm. He continued to speak to Amaranthia.
“Which buyer buys a product without even seeing the item?”