My Wife, King Arthur

Chapter 542: Morgana

Keiral slowly walked forward, because it was a country of greater class than Rome, and so not only did other civilians flock in front of Keiral, but even the guards dared not come up to build it.

Because of his deliberate actions, the other party did not hesitate to hit Kerall, which did not cause much pain to Kerall because of his slow movements, but a great deal of dirt appeared on the magician's robe.

The air condensed in an instant. Seventy-eight sacks of hemp were scattered over the girl's head, and she herself fell to the ground, but everyone knew that the slave with the shackles on his feet was dead.

Keiral gently photographed the dust on his robe, which, although much less dirty, was still noticeable. This magician's robe was given to Keiral by Koros and was naturally of good quality, but it is now dirty, some unfortunate.

Mikasa bent over and glanced at the girl, who had no fear at all, just sat on the floor looking at Keiral and her, calm inside, no, the silence inside was creepy.

She grabbed a sack of sacks, her shoulders were suddenly heavy, it was 200 kilograms of sack, a grown man carrying two sacks was already the limit, otherwise it would be difficult to move, this little girl seemed to do it often, otherwise no one else would be surprised.

“Your Highness, this is 400 pounds of stuff.” Mikasa threw the sack on the floor and instantly stirred up a piece of dust, the weight of which was visible.

Mikasa single-handedly grabbed a sack and let the little girl's eyes sparkle a little, but then it went dark.

“Interesting.” Keiral smiled and said, squatting down, touching each other's palm-red hair like a flame. "What's your name? ”

The other side twisted his head and thought, "Morgana. ”

Well, look at this faceless face, another heartbroken little girl.

“Oops! Don't ever see her like that, sir. She's just a little slave.” A slippery voice plugged in, certainly the official language of the Kingdom of Libel.

“Who are you?” Kerall looked at the past with a funny look, and a blonde man with earrings looked at himself with a grin and bowed constantly: “My lord, I am just a small civilian, don't ever see us both, don't ever see us both. ”

Morgana stood up and was about to start packing those scattered sacks, but the young man with the blonde hair grabbed her cheek with a grin and kept pressing her to the ground. He lay on the ground and knelt on his knees in front of Keiral: “Sir, forgive her, forgive her. ”

With an aversion on Kerall's face, a man, kneeling on his knees to his parents, could not kneel to others. Although there were many Western kneeling, kneeling on only one knee was merely the worship of the lower class against the upper class. After the industrial revolution, there was no more half kneeling, but kneeling on both knees, holding hands on the ground, even kneeling where his head was buried in the earth was a humiliating act.

The special case is for men.

This man doesn't even want his pride?

The most despicable slaves would not kneel so much to their masters, because they also had self-esteem, and even the most powerful slaves in the Roman arena could accept the worship of most.

It is a gift from the weak to the strong, but the other man is not conscious of being strong.

He's a coward...

Keiral had no desire to continue talking when he thought of it, "You can go, this little girl is staying. ”

“My lord, please forgive her, please forgive her...” He repeated this constantly to surprise Kerall: “Are you related to this child? ”

“No, I don't know her.” He raised his head and smiled unchanged, but because of the dirt the face was already filthy.

“That's strange. Why are you risking your life to plead for her? It's a risky thing. You wouldn't do it if it was a man, would you?” Kerall's strange question stifled his face and then lowered his head deeply to bury his head in the dirt again.

“Mr. Kerall, are you interested in this slave?” The leader of the merchant team saw Keiral from afar, greeting Keiral loudly, and his eyes, suddenly, saw Morgana's fetters.

“Yes, very interested.” Kerall did not deny it, but he also denied it.

“Oh, but your eyes are so good, you caught sight of the royal slave.” The businessman walked up and down to gauge Morgana. Her face was also bright and beautiful, and then some stiff-necked said to Kerall: "Your eyes are really sharp! ”

“Does the king take slaves here too? I wonder where you can tell she's a royal slave.” Kerall doesn't know much about the business here, and the king wants to hold a slave?

There are only two slave nations on the Knights' continent, Rome and Macedonia, but Macedonia and Rome are almost identical. Even if slave soldiers are organized, they can only listen to their masters, who listen to the emperor.

This subordination is, in fact, one of the manifestations of respect for individual interests, which Kerall has attached great importance to from the outset, including control over and issuance of cavaliers' food, clothing and shelter, as well as concessions of ordinary interests, all of which represent a compromise between national interests and individual interests.

No, it doesn't work that way.

Even modern China still has a lot of people selling the country, and the first condition of selling the country is to have a strong country to sell.

So this big wave of people who make their living are singing obscenities on the Internet and in the media, which is a manifestation of putting personal interests above national interests, which should be eliminated.

However, there is a different compromise between national interests and individual interests, for example, the policy of slow relief from agricultural taxes between 2004 and 2006 is a compromise between national interests and individual interests.

But this desert oasis country, Udan, does not seem to have this concept of personal interest.

Everyone seems to have agreed to work for the king, and in fact, very little of the merchants come here to sell to civilians, most of them to the man who brings luxury goods to the king of one city.

Including all the slaves in this city belong to the king.

Kerall, an outsider, of course, doesn't understand that.