Capitalism Is The Best

Lucien sat back, enjoying the taste of roasted pork while watching the live music in the center of the village. 

Snow gently fell onto the cobblestone streets and the laughter of children playing filled the air. 

It was the kind of winter day that made everything seem peaceful—except for the holy knights stationed behind him. 

They ate in silence but kept their eyes on him, making the villagers too nervous to approach.

He sighed, finding an odd sense of peace despite their presence. Sometimes, it was nice to be alone in the middle of a crowd, where no one tried to engage him in conversation.

Suddenly, a firm hand gripped his shoulder, startling him. He turned to find his father, Cassius, grinning with a plate of pork in hand as he joined him on the bench.

"You're not drinking?" Lucien asked, surprised to see his father without a beer in hand, especially on a day like this. 

"This weather's perfect for it, don't you think?"