Today, Ibraim decided to do something different. While he wanted to improve the lives of the people he could soon rule over, he needed to learn what the problems the people suffered from. While he knew of the ongoing famine that is slowly coming to an end with the new introductions of agricultural innovations and the ongoing production of the new irrigation system being implemented throughout the fields within the city's territories.
If Ibraim wanted to know what problems the people face, he could always just send out a surveyor to ask people questions about their living conditions; if they were happy with their work, if they desired anything for their kids, if they desired anything better, and a multitude of other questions. But, being the man Ibraim is, he decided to do it in person.
He left the palace early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen above the clay rooftops. The air was cool, and a faint mist clung to the streets. The guards, confused but obedient, followed him at a distance as he walked through the quieter districts of the city. The scent of bread baking and the sound of vendors setting up their stalls filled the air.
Ibraim kept his hood low, not wanting to attract attention. He passed by a group of children chasing a stray dog down the street, their laughter echoing off the walls. A baker sweeping his doorstep nodded to him politely, unaware of who he truly was.
He stopped at the main market square where farmers from the outskirts sold their produce. The stalls were modest, and the goods reflected the recent hardships. Baskets only half-filled with grain, fruits smaller than they should've been. Ibraim could see the fatigue in the faces of the sellers, yet they smiled and greeted every customer who approached.
One older woman caught his eye. She was selling wool and spun yarn, her hands moving slowly, the skin cracked from years of labor. Ibraim approached her stall.
"Good morning," he said, keeping his voice even. "How's business?"
She looked up, squinting slightly. "Morning, traveler. Business?" She laughed softly, though there was no joy in it. "It's as good as it can be, I suppose. People buy less these days. They save what little coin they have for food, not cloth."
Ibraim nodded. "Is it getting better at all?"
She shrugged. "They say it might. The fields are greener than last season, so maybe the hunger won't be as bad this year. But people still struggle. Taxes don't stop just because the rain does."
Her words struck him more deeply than he expected. He thanked her, purchased a spool of yarn at a higher price than what was shown, and continued walking through the market, quietly listening to the murmurs of everyday life around him.
As he passed through the center of the market, some recognized him despite the humble disguise. A few bowed their heads respectfully, while others pretended not to notice, unsure of how to react to the young lord walking among them. He offered a polite nod to everyone, careful not to appear too regal.
He approached a fruit vendor, this time. Behind its operation was a child, though probably in his early teens, but with tired eyes but a kind smile. "How's business these days?" he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes analyzing the poor kid's state. He had the body of someone that should be in school but the eyes and hands of someone that has worked for 20 years.
He sighed. "Better than before, my lord…" He paused, realizing he had said too much. "I mean, better than last year. The crops are growing again, thank the engineers and their water channels. But still, the prices of salt and spices are too high. People eat plain bread and roots most days."
Ibraim nodded thoughtfully. "And do you find help easy to come by?"
"Help?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "More people want to leave for the ironworks now. Manufacturing pays better than farming. I would've left to work there if it wasn't for my father's condition…" The young teen pauses before confiding in the young lord. "He's dying my lord… and my family can afford to lose the farm."
His words stayed with him as he listened on. Healthcare, of course. How could he forget something that was so crucial to a society. But, due to the lack of medical knowledge in his lands right now, the establishment of hospitals and such will have to be postponed. The city was slowly modernizing, yet the balance between progress, tradition, and societal struggles seemed fragile.
He made a note in his mind to speak with his father about pricing controls or perhaps better distribution of goods from the countryside.
As he moved deeper into the city, the streets grew narrower and the buildings older. Here, the stone walls were stained from years of smoke, and the air hung heavy with the smell of sweat and labor. He saw children carrying buckets from the wells, and men returning from the night shifts at the foundries. These were the people his reforms would affect most. The ones whose names he might never know, but whose lives he now saw clearly for the first time.
He paused near a well, watching as a young man filled several jars of water. "Is the water clean now?" Ibraim asked, gesturing toward the well.
The man turned to him, wiping sweat from his brow. "Cleaner than before," he said. "The new pipes helped. Fewer people fall sick now. Still, sometimes it smells odd. The royal family says they'll fix it soon."
Ibraim nodded thoughtfully. He continued down the road, his boots crunching against the gravel, his mind already turning with ideas of what could be improved and how much had yet to be done. Indoor plumbing, an actual sewer system, waste treatment plants. It was so much to do in yet so little time in his mind. He wanted to improve the lives of the people quickly, but unfortunately, he has to force himself to be patient. Rome wasn't built in a day, he would say to himself whenever he found himself upset at the pace his efforts are moving at.
Upon returning to the castle, he immediately heads into his room where he begins to draft legislation to improve the everyday lives of the people he rules over. While he doesn't have the power to enact any major changes currently, when his father eventually marches off to war and he is named regent, he will not only enact the reforms for his city. But if given the chance, he will also completely overhaul the government structure, of course most of the lords beneath him will disagree with him, but he will have a functioning napoleonic era military by then.
By the time he had finished drafting a comprehensive governmental revolution and blueprints for public plumbing and sewage disposal, minimum wage, price controls for certain goods, and new factories to produce modern building materials, it was well past midnight. But despite the time, there was a knock at the door. As he opened the door, it was his older sister and the master of his unofficial spy agency.
"Yuri? Just what are you doing awake at this ungodly hour?" He would ask with bewilderment on his face.
"I have to inform you of a new development. It is incredibly important that we talk now." Yuri responds with a seriousness Ibraim has never heard from his sister before.
"Very well then. Come on in." The young lord says, as he offers his sister passage into his room before closing the door and promptly sitting on his bed in front of Yuri. Before Ibraim could even ask what the situation was, his sister beat him to it.
"Mother has demanded your engineer's heads for creating unholy abominations that go against Allah's will."