Chapter 18
Chapter 18
“Love’s fruit, huh…”
-Thunk.
Luang sank into the sofa first.
It was hardly the posture of a guest meeting a household head. Rather, it seemed he intended to take control of the room’s atmosphere before anyone else could.
But Giovanni didn’t react. He simply sat quietly opposite him.
Between them on the table sat a scale.
A scale used for weighing gold or silver coins, with weights of different sizes neatly arranged beside it.
The moment Luang saw it, he reached out.
He placed five of the ten weights on one side of the scale.
Clack.
The scale tipped heavily.
The blood of the imperial family. The royal lineage. That was the price.
“Yes. I could allow her to bear a child tacitly considered mine.”
Luang’s words were calm.
He knew well enough that Angela wasn’t the type to sneak another man’s child into her care. She wasn’t clever enough to hide lies.
She was the type to fixate on one person, and if she accidentally encountered another man, guilt would force her to confess first.
That one certainty was enough.
Luang tapped the scale with his fingertip once more.
“So, what exactly are you offering me?”
Instead of answering, Giovanni slowly pulled the remaining five weights toward himself.
Then he picked up the first one.
“Angela has an independent trade network.”
Clack.
The first weight went onto the scale.
“That alone is worth hundreds of gold coins.”
“Continuously hundreds of gold coins, huh.”
“Perhaps even more in time.”
Angela’s trade had already spread deep into noble society. That it had reached Bianca’s ears alone proved its scale.
She didn’t just siphon gold from the nobility. Even the silver coins of commoners were flowing through her hands.
Judging by its growth, surpassing a thousand gold coins wasn’t impossible.
Giovanni lifted the second weight.
“She will not betray you.”
Clack.
The second weight went on.
Luang exhaled shortly.
Betrayal.
In this world, it was far too common.
Any organization united against an enemy would split once victory and peace were secured. Former allies would attack each other to secure their own benefit.
Positions and loyalties shifted with profit. That was everyday life.
Angela, however, was oddly unlike a typical merchant.
She never squeezed every last drop of profit. She didn’t cheat on materials. She didn’t substitute cheap materials to increase margins.
If trust could be broken, she would rather sever the deal entirely.
Inefficient. And rare.
Giovanni summarized it simply:
“She’s a merchant who prioritizes trust over money.”
Luang nodded.
“Yes. That’s certainly valuable.”
Merchants turn their backs more easily than nobles. Nobles at least have honor, faith, and face—restraints on their actions.
Merchants do not. No profit, no action. Profit, and they shift directions.
Angela, however, slightly deviated from that law.
Giovanni picked up the third weight.
“The third is our family.”
Clack.
The third weight went on.
“Family?”
Luang narrowed his eyes.
“Since I left the palace, you wouldn’t be able to support me directly.”
Royal blood is both mighty and fragile. Anyone who wrongs royalty unjustly faces imperial decree. The emperor’s blood is the law itself.
Yet indirect neglect is another matter. Poor treatment, subtle insults, or passive avoidance are possible. Later, if another royal ascends, those who supported Luang could face consequences.
Giovanni, however, did not yield.
“But merchants are motivated by profit.” He smiled softly. “Why they sided with her is unknown. Simply say they followed gold. Wouldn’t that suffice?”
Luang’s lips curved slightly.
“Indeed. Whoever they are, admirable nonetheless.”
Punishment requires a known offense. But merchants make their profit through smuggling, ledger manipulation, and tax evasion. If they act to hide, being unnoticed is skill in itself.
Giovanni rolled the fourth and fifth weights in his hand.
Then he placed both directly into Luang’s palm.
“These two are for you to take personally.”
Luang rolled the small weights in his hand. They were the smallest, but small didn’t mean worthless.
In this era, the most valuable thing wasn’t gold, knights, or land.
The most valuable was people. Human connections. Networks.
Gold, power, and information all ultimately flow through people.
“Merchant networks I understand. But noble networks?”
Giovanni answered calmly.
“Noble lives are long.”
“…”
“Many are still living.”
Nobles trained in magic, honed as knights, and given proper medicines live long. While the former emperor died young from overwork, other aged nobles would quietly retire in villas.
Decades more were possible.
Luang finally grasped Giovanni’s point more clearly.
It wasn’t just money. Past connections, retired nobles, hidden networks, old favors, and debts.
The Goldrun family, though newly noble, was slowly inserting themselves into this network with money as a tool.
“Do you expect her to bear a child without marriage?”
Luang asked quietly. Both a test and a warning.
Giovanni, however, looked assured upon hearing it.
“Your Highness’ words convince me.”
“…Haa.”
Luang pressed his palm to his forehead, realizing his mistake.
In noble society, even illegitimate children were always a calculated possibility. Send a daughter as a maid to a great noble family, and soon, bloodlines could mix naturally.
If the family had a young son, even easier. Impetuous noble heirs touched maids or attendants indiscriminately.
The resulting child, having even a trace of noble blood, was rarely killed. Usually educated and employed in administration. Sometimes officially adopted, boasting about the infusion of “noble blood.”
Yet Luang had just spoken with concern for Angela’s will and position.
That meant he saw her as human, not a tool.
Even if not love, at least he did not intend to treat her recklessly.
Giovanni’s smile shifted from a polite one to genuine.
Seeing that, Luang furrowed his brows, frustrated.
“The baron might even buy a traditional noble bloodline.”
“Flattering, Your Highness.”
Giovanni feigned humility, but his eyes betrayed it.
Now Luang understood.
Giovanni was ambitious. He became noble through money and wouldn’t be satisfied just by holding that title.
Yet he genuinely cared for his daughter.
If he were a pure cynic, it would have been simpler. Treat it as a business: as long as the price was right, sell.
But Giovanni was not that type.
He judged that keeping Angela close to Luang now was better for her than sending her elsewhere. Love and calculation intertwined.
So, more complicated.
‘As a merchant, she must have hidden more in this deal.’ Luang thought.
‘But… will this deal only cost me?’
He valued Angela highly. She possessed the skills of a reincarnator and was inventing useful items absent in this world.
Would she continue her inventions if sent into another noble family?
Luang doubted it. Nobles usually wanted a daughter who shone socially, not an inventor holed up in a workshop.
If she abandoned her inventions, it would be a serious loss for him.
Better to keep her nearby and use her.
No, more honestly: keeping her close and watching could be more entertaining.
‘Everyone seems to love her. Is she the main character?’
Luang pictured Angela. Despite the harsh noble society, she was loved by her parents, unusually favored by Bianca, and even he himself didn’t view her too harshly.
A strange girl.
Annoying, foolish, constantly causing trouble, yet impossible to discard.
Something more interesting was bound to happen if she stayed close.
If she learned that, she might scream and faint.
She wanted to witness the hero’s love story but wouldn’t want to die at the villain’s hand.
But in noble society, marriage was ultimately the head of the household’s prerogative.
A daughter’s opinion didn’t matter. Like it or not, cry or laugh, she’d be sent off if necessary.
Considering this, Angela was already on the trade table.
And now, slowly, she would begin to learn, through experience, just how cruel noble society could be.