Torundel couldn't get a word over his lips. Opposite him in the best chair of the house sat Count B, his rival and most hated enemy. A handsome man ten years his junior.

‘I'm sure we can both agree that you will make a plentiful profit from this. I know that you paid very little for her,’ the Count said conciliatory. ‘I admire your ability to find low cost wives. Who would have thought such a magnificent creature could be found in the house of a peddler!’ He placed a piece of paper in front of Torundel. ‘I pay you 12 Angels for her! There's a compensation included for emotional loss and money for a valet until you buy a new wife. Sign man! If you deny me I will destroy you!’

Torundel took the pen and signed the paper. The Count smiled happily.

‘Now this is settled, I have a favour to ask you as the learned man you are. I have received a letter – according to my scholars written in a magnificent style that bear comparison with the old masters. This letter was protected by something called the anon rules, which seems to imply that I can't know who sent it!’

Torundel couldn't get a word over his lips.

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Torundel the Shitposter! part IX

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