New World, New Life: I Became A Bigshot In The Ancient World
Chapter 109: GET OFF MY THRONE

Chapter 109: GET OFF MY THRONE

When they climbed up the stairs to the second floor, Aristia explained what the second floor was for, then added,

"It is not in use now. It will be introduced later in the future. Let’s head to the last floor."

"I don’t see any stairs or doors leading to the last floor?" Catherine said, looking around the brightly lit corridor with doors on each side.

Aristia nodded in agreement with Catherine’s words. "That’s because there’s none."

"There’s none?" Catherine lifted her brows but asked nothing more. They would find out what way they would use to get to the third floor since Aristia was taking them there.

They walked down the corridor and took many turns passed different private rooms.

When they reached the last corridor, she walked to the end of the corridor and took a turn into a dark, hidden unnoticeable corner. She placed her hand on a part of the wall and the wall opened, revealing a glass lift.

"What...?!" Alaric gasped, looking up at her in shock.

"A teleportation center?" Wilson raised a brown, surprised.

"Teleportation center?" Aristia repeated, confused. She shook her head. "No, this isn’t a...uh, teleportation center. It’s called an elevator or a lift."

She moved forward and stepped into the lift, and the others followed behind her. The glass doors and the moving wall closed.

She explained as the elevator began moving.

"I thought of a concept where I could go to my office without using stairs since I don’t want anyone going to my office. I came up with this and told Osric Caravans about it and they built it. This lift or elevator lifts or elevates upwards and can also go down. It’s a lot faster than using stairs."

Her parents nodded, both impressed and finding it hard to believe,, and Alaric kept looking around with interest and awe.

From the inside, one could see the streets of the capital but from the outside, the lift wasn’t visible. No one would be able to tell that such a thing existed inside the building.

The journey up wasn’t long. They arrived after some seconds. The lift opened, revealing a brightly lit hallway.

Aristia led them forward to a door at the end and opened it. "This is my office."

They stepped inside.

The room was wide. It was a mixture of modernity and medieval charm, blending sleek, modern design elements with rustic, historical accents.

Its walls were adorned with exposed brickwork and intricate gold carvings lined the walls elegantly.

In one corner, a grand fireplace crackled, providing warmth to the room, its stone hearth was engraved with symbols of... cats and dogs.

Her parents glanced at her.

[Ahem. When I was asked what to engrave, I just said the first thing that came to my mind. I’m not at fault. Those creatures are extremely cute.] She defended in her mind, gesturing at them to continue their tour of the room in a bid to distract them.

At the heart of the room was a sleek, sturdy oak desk, and its surface was made with dark coloured glass. It had quills and parchment scrolls on top. There were also some files arranged neatly on it. The desk faced the door.

Behind the desk was a regal chair with a tall and broad backrest, its mahogany frame polished to a lustrous sheen that reflected the glow of the firelight.

The rich, burgundy upholstery exuded an air of luxury, adorned with intricate stitching that traced elegant patterns across its surface. It had tall, curved armrests, while the high back rose majestically, adorned with ornate carvings depicting scenes of nature and fairies and dragons.

Wilson and Catherine passed her another look. Where was their little daughter getting these ideas of creatures to engrave from?

[Ahem! Another thing that came to my mind. Please continue.]

Surrounding the desk were plush leather chairs with ornate carvings in the wood, offering a comfortable yet regal seating arrangement.

To the left of the desk, against the brick wall, was a towering bookcase made of dark-stained wood. There were only a few books on it.

The room was also illuminated by crystal chandeliers in the ceiling, casting a warm and inviting glow over the objects in the room. Sleek metal sconces were in the walls. Each of them had a glowing stone embedded in it. They illuminated the room with a soft glow.

The wall behind the desk was made of glass, allowing the person inside a clear view of the outside world. It allowed natural light to flood the room, creating a bright and airy atmosphere even in the darkness of night.

There was another desk some distances away from the main desk. It was also grand, albeit not as much as the first. Some files, inks and parchments were also on it.

The layout of the office created a truly unique and captivating space.

At that moment, the door opened and Owen came in. He bowed when he saw his master’s family.

"Greetings, Your Highnesses."

Finally, the couple turned their attention away from the beautiful place that was their five year old daughter’s office.

"Owen, how are you?" Catherine asked while Wilson just hummed in reply to the boy’s greeting.

"I’m fine, your highness." Owen nodded.

He knew it was a perfunctory question, after all, he had just seen the couple before leaving for the restaurant earlier in the day.

Catherine turned to Aristia.

"This is your workplace? I am short of words." She said. She really had never seen such designs before.

"Thank you, mama." Aristia smiled. "Please, take a seat." She gestured to the sofa in a mock business voice.

"Don’t mind if we do." Wilson said, taking a seat with Catherine beside him.

While her parents sat down, Aristia walked to her office chair. Subconsciously, her eyes lingered on a spot in the bookshelf.

[I haven’t sat down on this chair since it was made.]

"Time to take a seat on my throne." She said, going around to sit down smugly.

As she looked down, she paused, mouth agape.

"Wait a minute... How did you get here?"

She looked at the person sitting boldly in her seat with disbelief, watching how he crossed his legs and rested his arms on the armrest like he owned the place.

"Hey, that’s my pose." She whined. Alaric looked up at her smugly, exuding both cuteness and smugness. She hadn’t seen him go to the chair. Explained why she didn’t see him sitting beside Wilson and Catherine.

"Alaric, come off my throne."

Alaric giggled and slowly climbed down the large chair.

[So much for being the first to sit on it.] Aristia thought, sitting down on the chair.

Now as she looked at her parents from over the table, she realized something.

[I didn’t think this through well enough.]

She had chosen the perfect regal chair, but she hadn’t considered how she had the body of a five year old.

She couldn’t rest her hands on the armrest because the chair was a bit wider than her size.

Alari had placed his hands on the armrest by stretching his hands.

She cleared her throat and crossed her legs, still intent on assuming the boss pose.

She turned to Owen who had sat down on the desk beside hers; his own workspace. "How did it go with the commoners?"

"They responded very positively and were very satisfied with the service and the food. There are still a few people left in the ground floor." Owen gave a report.

He had been downstairs listening to the conversation between the commoners and gauging their reaction.

Aristia had set a higher price for the same meal for those in the first floor. Only then would they be assured that it was befitting of them. If it was set lower, they would become offended that they were put in the same range as the commoners.

But that wasn’t the sole reason. The materials she had used were not cheap. The tables and chairs were made of high quality material. The linings and decorations were real gold. She put a lot of money into building the restaurant. She had to make up for the expenses.

For her to sell the same food for different prices, she had to seperate the aristocrats from the common folk. That way, there would be a distinction. The aristocrats and commoners wouldn’t know the price set for the other, nor would they know that it was the same quality of food being served, and she didn’t the aristocrats would stoop so low to question how much the food served on the ground floor cost not would the commoners want to hear about food being obviously served for an astronomical sum.

So even though she had seperated the aristocrats and the commoners, she had her reasons. She knew that some of the commoners would be displeased with the arrangement, but she was a businesswoman, not a saint. She wanted profit. And profit, she would get.

She had her morals though and wouldn’t tolerate partiality when it came to receiving the proper services a human had the right to have.

That was why she made sure that Dahlia and Dorothy instilled in the workers proper decorum and work ethics so that they would not start to show special favor or treatment to some or let pride get into their head from working at such establishment.

After spending sometime in her office, the family and Owen left the third floor.

They headed downstairs to the ground floor. The workers had just started to clean the place after the last person left.