"Your Royal Highness, Princess, ah no, Lord Regent, this is your morning. ”

The maid carefully placed the tray in her hand on the table in the room of the princess Hedwivel Wieshal, and now the delicate-looking girl was not only the princess of Wieshal, but also the regent of the Empire.

The ladies of the Wishaler royal family were generally selected from commoners, and after entering the palace, they generally worked until they were twenty-five years old before they could leave the palace to complete the rest of their lives.

"I see, you go down first. Hedwig stood in front of the window of her room, gazing at the morning view of Wishal.

"Yes. The maid bowed and slowly left the room.

When the door lock of the room was closed behind her, Hedwig suddenly let out a sigh of relief, turned abruptly, and looked at the delicate and gorgeous food on the plate, and there were stars faintly twinkling in the girl's eyes.

"Wow, this is Bonorton Butter Cheesecake! This is fresh milk from Hamilton Ranch. The girl took a deep breath, put her hand on her breast, which was not full, and patted it gently, as if trying to calm the excitement in her heart.

The girl couldn't wait to grab the delicate cake in her hand, and took a big bite, and the rich milky fragrance instantly diffused in her mouth.

"Woo-" Hedwig let out a muffled sound, and soon a large glass of milk and delicate cake were completely wiped out.

"I didn't expect the princess to eat such delicious things. Hedwig couldn't help but sigh.

Dressed in fancy clothes, eating delicious food, and having someone to serve you from the time you wake up to the shower, you could never have imagined yourself a few days ago.

"Well, what's not to be satisfied with being such a good princess? Hedwig stretched and collapsed back into the soft bed: "From now on, I am no longer the maid Helen, I am the princess of Wishal, the regent of Wishal-Hedwig!"

......

Bonorton, a city south of Wishal.

The southern frontier of the Wishald Empire is one of the two largest commercial and economic zones of the empire, in addition to the capital business circle centered on the city of Wishal, it is the southern Xinjiang economic zone centered on Bonorton.

In addition to regular commodities, these cities in southern Xinjiang mainly sell food, weapons and equipment, etc., and the destination of these materials is the Death Fjord. In the perennial war area, there is a considerable demand for these things, in addition to the official trading caravans of the state, there are some private traders, for these private caravans, the Westhair Empire did not ban them, but replaced them with quite high tariffs.

However, in addition to these regular trade goods, there is another hard currency that can be traded, and that is man, or rather, slaves.

The southern gate of Ponodon, the dividing line between the Wishaler Empire and the Deathfjord, is garrisoned by the Red Army, which has set up a heavily defended checkpoint, and all passing caravans will be checked before they can pass.

The soldiers of the Red Army are all wearing the iconic red armor and red helmets, and no one dares to make trouble here in Bonoton, and the combat effectiveness of the Red Army is no joke.

"Stop, routine check!"

Near the pass, a long queue of people waiting to cross the border formed a group, and a group of merchants who were slowly moving forward in a bullock cart stopped.

The ox cart was full of military rations, and the skeleton of the cart made an overwhelming creaking sound.

"Rations?" the Red Army soldiers gathered around, the dry straw covering almost the entire ox cart. A soldier lifted the straw and saw the puffed sack underneath.

"In the case of grain, we impose a tariff of 30 percent. ”

This ratio sounds very terrifying, 30 percent of the tax is calculated according to the cost price of these grains, in fact, all caravans that go to the Death Fjord to sell grain, will generally choose some areas that are at war, when the war is fought, the demand for food is very large, this trip down, it is definitely a huge profit, thirty taxes are certainly painful, but they can still accept it.

Just as the group of merchants was about to pay, one of the Red Army Captains at the outpost suddenly walked over here.

"Are you really food here?" the leader of the Red Army looked at each other with burning eyes: "You remove some of the top grain." ”

"My lord, this- there are so many people in line at the back, we-" The merchant of the caravan smiled wryly on his face.

"Then I'll check for myself. The team leader suddenly pulled out the red blade from his waist and slammed the blade into the gap between the wheat straw.

"My lord, this is a little careful, the business in the Deathfjords is not easy to do, you see, can you-"

The merchant at the head of the caravan sent the object in his hand to the team leader, his palm slowly spread, and the team leader's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"In the past, now Belu and Noah in the Deathfjord are at war, and you should be able to make a fortune by going there. The squad leader quietly drew the blade of his sword, reaching out and shoving the merchant's hand into his coat pocket.

"Brothers, let's go. The merchant beckoned to his companions, and the group gathered around the ox cart, left the checkpoint, and gradually disappeared into the distance.

"Captain, just let them pass?"

The soldiers' eyes fell on the squad leader's blade, which was still dripping with blood.

"Slave traders. The team leader shook his head: "In the laws of the Empire, this kind of slave trader is legal, and even the Empire turns a blind eye, and these people who are trafficked to the Death Fjord, let them fend for themselves." ”

"Captain, that's not what I meant. A Red Army soldier chuckled in a low voice: "I mean, since you know that you are slave traders, why don't you charge a little more tariffs? Slave merchants and arms dealers collect heavy taxes." ”

"What do you think this is?" the squad leader smiled, and he spread out his palm, and a gold coin lay quietly in his palm, reflecting the golden light in the sun's light.

"Marassa Imperial Gold Coins?" exclaimed in unison from the surrounding soldiers.

"Let's just assume that he is a grain merchant, and when he reports to his superiors and registers, he says that he sells grain, and this money, please go and have a drink tonight." The squad leader wiped the blood from the blade and gently withdrew the scabbard.