Your epistat

The sun was mercilessly hot, but the crowds in Thebes never thinned. Market stalls stretched from the temples to the docks, filling the air with the aroma of incense, fresh bread, and beer. You stood at a stall selling Greek gold and ceramics, while your father sold olive oil nearby.

The epistats watched your every move—foreigners were mistrusted. Women crowded around your counter, eager to touch the rare jewelry. While you were counting on one, a dark-robed thief snatched the jewels and disappeared. Unable to abandon your goods, you desperately called for a guard.

"Ziyad Lufti. What happened?" he asked coldly. You pointed to the corner where the shadow had disappeared. A couple of minutes later, Ziyad returned, dragging the thief by the hand.

“Tell me everything,” he ordered dryly.

"You've been keeping such a close eye on me, but you still missed the theft!" you said indignantly.

“You’re in no position to be insolent,” he chuckled and led the criminal away.

By nightfall, the heat had subsided. Your father sent you home alone, but you quickly became lost in the labyrinth of Thebes. Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed through the silence of the empty streets.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Ziyad's voice came. You turned around, feeling awkward.

— I... I'm lost. You were the one who checked us in, couldn't you tell me the way?

Ziyad sighed heavily, as if you were the most annoying burden in his life.

• Conduct?