The bustling avenue of market stalls overflows with women. The warm air resonates with the lively chatter and the enticing aromas of fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables. The cobbled road below is invisible, concealed beneath the sea of people flocking around the marketplace. The sky above blazes with radiant sunlight, casting a warm glow.

     A lady, holding a basket, walks towards a stall. Her eyes scan the diverse display of fruits, and she reaches out, plucking a green apple from the pile. She rotates the fruit in her hand as she inspects its quality.

"Ah! Isn't that my favourite customer, madame?" the seller greeted the lady with a broad grin. "What news have you brought today in your sleeves?"

"Oh!" the lady exclaimed, pointing at her. "Have you heard of Oliver? Oliver Podeshire, perchance?"

"Uh-huh! Of course!" the seller nodded.

"I've heard whispers that he keeps multiple mistresses in secret. He feigns disinterest in women to uphold his reputation," she revealed. "Now, two apples, if you please!"

Once the customer departed, a nearby vendor leaned in, eager for gossip. "Hey, friend! Did your customer share any scandalous gossip?"

"Yes! It is said that the illustrious Podeshire has a bevvy of mistresses," the seller disclosed.

"Oh, my! How scandalous!" the vendor exclaimed as her face twisted. She then nudged another seller at the adjacent stall, passing on the gossip. "Friend! I have news to share!"

"What is it?" the other seller responded.

"Sir Podeshire is said to have women in his company for pleasure!" the vendor said.

"How utterly repulsive!" she gasped. The news quickly spread from stall to stall, a ripple of whispers and murmurs. "The Remaining Podeshire has women in his company. Multiple women!"

"Psst! Hey! Oliver Podeshire has ladies for himself!"

"Sir Podeshire has mistresses already, and we never knew!"

"My! Sir Oliver Podeshire is already keeping women by himself secretly!"

"Did you hear!? The Remaining Podeshire has been privately indulging his desires with women!"

"Spread the word! The gallant Defender has already taken women into his embrace!"

     Around the dining table seated the husband and his seven children, gobbling down their meal as they chewed. The aroma of the freshly cooked dishes filled the air. From the kitchen, the wife emerged, balancing a grand roasted turkey on a platter. With a beaming smile, she carefully placed the mouthwatering centrepiece on the table, taking her seat among her loved ones.

"What's with the smile?" the husband asked while smirking.

"I've heard something from Catherine. It may be a rumour, but have you heard that the Remaining Podeshire is taking mistresses now?" the wife shared.

"What!? That's utterly despicable! Meanwhile, our daughters are still unmarried and overlooked by him!" the husband exclaimed furiously.

The four daughters seated around the table froze, and their eyes widened as they ceased chewing.

"Take a moment, dear," she urged calmly as she grasped his arm. "Remember, at least you have something to discuss with your colleagues."

     Later, inside a crowded office, men clad in crisp white long-sleeved shirts and black cravat ties hurriedly dart around, clutching papers. Some settle into their seats, while others swiftly rise again, rushing to deliver important documents to neighbouring rooms. Across the room, a quartet of men stand, holding steaming mugs of coffee as they converse.

"Gentlemen, I've received distressing news from my wife regarding the Remaining Podeshire. It appears that he is not inclined to marriage, yet he indulges in the company of multiple women to satisfy his carnal desires," the man shared, addressing his colleagues. "Women. Plural!"

"That is truly disheartening," one colleague commented.

"Indeed, it is a disheartening situation," another chimed in.

"I've been tirelessly attempting to arrange a lawful and morally sound marriage between my daughter and the Remaining Podeshire. And yet, he has chosen to engage in relationships with multiple women, shunning the path of commitment!" the fourth colleague responded.

     Later, the man in a white shirt with a black cravat tie pushes a door and enters a gallery. He sees rows of men painting and sketching on their canvases. He wanders around, and so is his head. Then, he stops at the furthest corner.

"Excuse me, may I commission a piece from you?" the man asked eagerly, reaching into his pocket.

"Of course. What subject would you like me to depict?" the artist inquired as he grabbed his pencil.

"Do you know of the Remaining Podeshire? I would like you to create a portrait capturing him engaged in suspicious activities with multiple women," the man said, offering two gold coins.

"Oh, sorry, uh... we only focus on producing artwork, not scandalous drawings that may tarnish someone's reputation," the artist declined and returned the coins.

"Op-op-op! Haven't you heard about it from your wife?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"...I don't have a wife; I only have a lady," the artist's lips tightened as he leaned back.

"Haven't you heard it from your lady?" the man reiterated. "Oliver Podeshire has mistresses."

Another painter interjected, slipping a message into the conversation. "It's true! I've heard that the Defender of Asbranne has taken multiple women as his mistresses!"

"...I do recall my lady mentioning something of the sort yesterday," the artist admitted, turning to his customer. "She's quite fond of gossip, like many other women."

"Perfect. Take my money. You don't have to give me the drawings. Publish it to the streets. I'll give you twenty gold coins plus a hundred silver ones. How many can you draw from that?" the man smiled mischievously.

"Perhaps, enough for everyone to know," the artist responded.

"What about the others? Anyone willing to depict the Remaining Podeshire engaging in such scandalous activities?" the man called out to the rest, his voice carrying across the room. "I am prepared to offer a bonus from my salary to those willing!"

     Every artist inside the room stops their hands from brushing. They stare at the man for a few seconds. Considering the deal, they switched their colourful canvases to blank and empty ones on the easel stands. They begin to draw curved lines on the canvas with their graphite pencils. Slowly and considerately, they stroke their hands until a circle with a cross appears.

     The following day, seven artists assemble along the busy sidewalk. Clutching papers in both hands, they stand amidst a growing crowd as men and women bump into one another. The artists begin distributing pamphlets to those who offer them glistening silver coins.

     As the crowd gathered around the artists, clusters of men and women formed, with people gravitating towards each other in groups of two, three, and four. An air of anticipation hung heavy, amplified by murmurs of eager expectation. One stood at the centre, holding up a recently purchased drawing for all to behold.

     Furrowed brows draw deep lines onto faces as eyes scrutinize the artwork. Jaws drop in shock, unable to fully comprehend what they see. The impact of the sketch is palpable, causing a ripple of reactions among those fortunate enough to catch a glimpse.

"Utterly hideous!"

"Absolutely disgusting!"

"I never would have imagined that a young man of such perceived perfection could engage in such behaviour!"

     Murmurs and whispers fill the air, ascending to the heavens as an endless sea of people engage in gossip and commentary. Throughout the bustling streets of Asbranne, the collective hum of conversation goes on, a constant background noise that seems to have no respite. Even under the scorching sun, its rays casting a radiant glow upon the glittering streets, individuals find ways to share their news and exchange their thoughts, unbothered by the sweltering heat. The restless chatter echoes through every corner.