Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Blueport Trade Hub Plan Launch (3)
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I slipped out of the banquet hall with the king, accompanied only by a single elderly steward, and we entered a secluded room.
Unlike the opulent banquet hall filled with lavish paintings and gold-embossed decorations, this room had a sober, heavy atmosphere. It contained just a black desk and chairs, along with a bookshelf holding a few volumes.
The steward confirmed that the king and I had entered, then quietly withdrew.
The king turned to me with a smile.
"As king of the Allied Kingdom, I must maintain a dignified and splendid public image. But when it comes to my workspace, I prefer something simple. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. If even the office were that flashy, it'd blind me."
"I'm glad you understand. The other ministers insist we gild the office too, for the sake of Your Highness's dignity..."
I pictured my own office plastered in gold or covered wall-to-wall with ornate murals.
A chandelier on the ceiling and maybe a portrait or beautiful painting on the wall—that much I could handle...
But if the desk were engraved with gaudy gold patterns and the walls depicted every tale of Deus, it'd feel so overwhelming I couldn't get any work done.
"That sounds like a bad idea, Your Majesty."
"I figured you'd say that."
"It's as harsh as telling women to wear those frilly ball gowns and corsets for everyday life."
The king burst into laughter at my slightly risqué joke.
"Haha, you're right. How could anyone work in such splendor?"
"Exactly, Your Majesty."
We spent a moment chatting about why an office needs simple furnishings.
Such idle talk might seem pointless, but it subtly signals to the other side that you're not in any rush.
It plants impatience in them, nudging them to yield first.
Just like in a used goods market—the price differs if you're desperate to buy versus snapping up someone else's hasty sale.
Once they bend first, you can impose harsher terms.
We talked for quite a while like that, until the king spoke first, his voice tinged with admiration.
"Tonight's banquet was truly splendid. Not some spice-drenched mess, but elegant simplicity in the cuisine. Delicious sweets and ice cream loaded with sugar, and that moving play... It's a luxury beyond my wildest dreams."
"I'm honored, Your Majesty. I never imagined I'd host such an event for the king of the Northern Alliance. It's the glory of my house."
The king seemed annoyed that I hadn't revealed my intentions despite yielding so much. His tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction.
"It'd be wonderful if we could hold banquets like this more often. Then the nobles gathered in my palace would bow to my majesty."
He hadn't outright asked for the people who could provide ice cream, desserts, and plays, but hinting so directly meant the deal was all but done.
I opened my mouth to restore his pride while flattering him just enough.
"Truth be told, Your Majesty, I came to introduce my territory's specialties and forge strong ties with the Northern Alliance. As leader of its brave knights and warriors, I brought a modest gift to propose an alliance. I'm grateful you enjoyed it so much."
"The most beautiful banquet of my life, a mere trifle from you... Then tell me—what gift have you brought?"
With that, I began the pitch I'd prepared for the king.
"To the point, Your Majesty: what I offer is the exclusive rights to sell a guiding culture in the Northern Alliance, along with the key ingredient for making ice cream."
"Exclusive rights to culture and that key ingredient... Sounds decent, but how valuable do you think it is?"
"Priceless—not even a fortune could buy it. Shall I explain?"
The king leaned in, intrigued.
"First, if Your Majesty hosts the grandest banquets, all the nobles will be awed by your wealth and dignity. They'll feel like insignificant moths before you, despite being lords in their own domains."
"True enough. Even I felt awe toward Siel von Kroitel seeing your banquet, food, and performance. Lesser nobles would cower before my lavish events, realizing their limits."
"That's not all, Your Majesty. Those nobles, admitting their limits, will strive desperately not to lag behind peers or inferiors. They'll beg you for finer dances, more beautiful music, more stirring tales—to uphold their own prestige."
Just as in absolutist France.
The emperor might not control all culture, but he borrowed heavily to dazzle his nobles with splendor.
Sumptuous clothes, refined music, food so luxurious words failed—and it crushed his subordinates.
In turn, nobles scrambled for scraps of his power and glory, never rebelling over mere maladministration.
And simultaneously...
The king's eyes widened.
"Unimaginable. Using our own nobles to control them. Seizing power outright would unite them against me, but this? Their willing choice to outshine rivals leaves no room for revolt."
A king grasps the terror of lavish culture from mere fragments.
Indeed, from the Renaissance onward, as culture boomed and consumption soared, lords squeezed excessive taxes to outdo rivals.
Prosperous cities paid years ahead, evolving into free cities.
Here, the king and cities would extract culture's toll from nobles, forcing indebted lords to relinquish power bit by bit...
And cities would back the king, commerce's greatest protector, for their own gain.
This would be one step toward the Allied Kingdom's throne becoming an empire.
Our interests align now—strengthening the crown—so I can offer more aid.
I handed the king a scroll detailing the banquet's costs and breakdown.
"Here are the items, quantities, and costs for this ball. Take a look."
"Can you reveal this? Isn't it your trade secret?"
I replied coolly.
"A chance to partner with the future emperor of this kingdom? Why hide my secrets? No—earning the trust of His Imperial Majesty of the Allied Empire is pure profit."
"I see. Then I'll read it. Sit and have some tea and pastries while you wait."
As he read, I enjoyed the pastries and tea before me.
Thin crepe-like dough stuffed with honey and fruit paired perfectly with the bitter tea.
As I polished off the piled pastries, the king cleared his throat.
"Ingredients per noble: one gold coin and five silver. Play production and orchestra: 120 gold... Total cost..."
I cut in firmly.
"Two thousand gold coins."
"Two... thousand gold coins. Roughly half a year's budget for a small barony."
"Yes. An enormous sum. But rest assured, Your Majesty—I covered it all."
"Of course. The fame from this banquet goes to you, not me. Count Kroitel."
Now to seal the deal.
"Orchestras and actors earn from rare big events like this, two or three times a year. So they charge far above their worth—like mercenaries."
"Indeed. For the same service, a mercenary outprices a salaried knight of equal skill from a one-march fief."
"Host banquets often, and hire them formally. Provide outfits and props. You'll cut costs dramatically. Once a month? Forty—no, thirty gold should suffice."
"Go on."
Now the real plan: suck profit from the Allied Kingdom like a straw.
"I'll leave my orchestra and actors here—use them as the kingdom's finest. Train bards and musicians eager to perform under them... Then, in a year, gift them to counts and above like favors."
"Delaying a year to make top nobles envious of me. Selling orchestra and actors at right price... I'd rake in a fortune."
"Yes. I'll give them free, but Your Majesty could earn six thousand gold just from sales."
The king's eyes sparkled.
"Exhilarating—imagining those haughty nobles begging me for orchestras and actors, handing over fortunes."
"And that's just the start. Sell once, and they're gone—but culinary ingredients repeat. Since we began selling sugar, haven't Your Majesty and the nobles bought tons? I hear you've profited handsomely as middleman."
"Since your sugar sales, the finance minister beamed about 1.2 times trade volume and 1.3 times taxes in the capital. Thanks to you, I fielded more troops for the western expedition."
Sugar's addictive here—hyperbole aside, like drugs—but I never dreamed indirect trade would boost taxes 30%.
Of course, believing 20% of trade and 30% taxes come solely from sugar makes you a fool.
Merchant guilds buying sugar load up on other goods too.
Northern Alliance caravans, here for 'sugar' anyway, bring specialties—forming a market.
"Impressive. Then how about selling the key ice cream ingredient, agar seaweed, tofu—luxuries for nobles, herring for serfs? It'd split the finance minister's mouth with revenue."
"I'll cut your import duties. But tofu? Nutty flavor aside, it's bland—strong likes and dislikes. No need to push it."
True—tofu's nutty and mild, but that beany taste polarizes...
Then market it as medicinal. How?
After a brief ponder, I whispered to the king.
"Just between us, Your Majesty. Listen closely—tofu has special properties..."
"Tell me."
I layered on the lie.
"When I took in Ella as a child, her chest was quite small. But after eating my tofu dishes, look how she grew."
The king asked gravely.
"If true, marriage-obsessed nobles would feed daughters tofu daily like medicine for beauty... You know as a man—bigger is better..."
"Agreed. Absolutely."
"A cultured count's answer. But... you haven't mentioned something crucial yet..."
I couldn't guess what he meant, so I asked plainly.
"What is it?"
"If it were just profit, I wouldn't risk leaving my lands for a potential enemy. Kill you now, ally with Maxburg, and Nant falls. A sharp mind like yours wouldn't brave that for mere thousands in gold. Get to the core."
I drew a map and replied earnestly.
And...