They continued onward, rounded a street corner, and suddenly found themselves amid much louder voices.
Ahead lay an open public park. It was lunchtime, and the place brimmed with a rough but exuberant vitality.
Marquis Golden Ear instinctively adjusted his breathing. Although he had already experienced Minas Tirith's remarkable cleanliness, experience told him that wherever common laborers gathered, order tended to break down, inevitably bringing filth and squalor.
He braced himself, expecting that even in this city, such a crowded corner would have its share of litter and dreariness.
He thought he would see a crowd of numb, exhausted laborers sprawled on the ground like livestock, just like the enslaved goblins in the Council's mines, their clouded eyes holding nothing but fear of the whip and greed for food.
-but he was wrong. The scene before him once again defied his expectations.
Someone held a newspaper and was loudly reading a serialized novel from White Tower Weekly.
"...Xiao En sneered. Flames erupted from the heavy sword in his hand as he roared at the fiancée who looked down on him: Fortunes change! The man you scorn today may tower over you tomorrow!"
"Bravo!"
The surrounding workers erupted in cheers. Some slapped their thighs, while others rocked back and forth with laughter.
A few young people were kicking a battered leather ball around in a corner, their faces bright with smiles.
There was no lifeless gloom.
Instead, the place brimmed with vibrant, hopeful energy.
The Marquis stood beneath the shade of a tree, watching in silence for a long time.
"They... can actually read?"
A flicker of astonishment crossed his eyes, and he could not help asking, "And after working all morning, they still have the energy to laugh?"
"The territory has introduced night schools. They can all read simple notices."