Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: The Price is Set
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“The starting point of the drug party itself can be said to be advantageous to Gail, and no matter how much a slave is considered mere merchandise, they’re still a person with thoughts and feelings, aren’t they? Since it was sent by Gail, there’s no way to know what kind of slave it is.”
“Refusing it would mean directly rejecting an apology from the imperial palace, and above all, with manpower reduced by that much, it would inevitably burden the family somehow.”
Was that all?
It effectively conveyed a stance hostile to drugs, while also alleviating the humiliation of being helplessly defeated by an imperial prince. It was truly a sharp strike with no room for second-guessing.
“If the gift from the prince feels fishy, just sell it at the slave market and buy a new one.”
“There’s no permanent slave market in the capital. And as I said, it’s a ‘gift’ personally delivered by the prince—how could we sell that? It would surely give them ammunition to use against us later.”
Hearing Romandro’s explanation, Berik nodded as if he somewhat understood.
“It perfectly showcased his presence while checking the nobles at the same time. Wesley, was it? The Magic Department Minister.”
“That’s right. He holds immense authority in magic circles. No one even knows his age. Nothing much is known beyond his name.”
Ian was sure to meet her upon heading to the capital. As a Mana User, he was destined to become a valuable asset to the Magic Department in the future. Naturally, his superior would be Wesley, and they were bound to clash repeatedly.
“Anyway, the more I think about it, the more impressive the move is.”
“In truth, if Second Prince Gail weren’t so sharp-tempered and on bad terms with Prince Marib, he’d be quite the aggressive figure. I just can’t fathom why those two are so at each other’s throats.”
“It can’t be helped.”
The successor and the challenger threatening that position.
It was a natural dynamic. Even brothers from the same womb ought to cross swords, let alone when they had different mothers.
“You two probably know this as well. Each has what the other lacks, which probably sharpens their blades even more.”
“What kind of person is Prince Marib?”
“Prince Marib is…….”
Romandro pondered his words carefully, but no fitting expression came to mind. He was that much more inscrutable and disconcerting than Second Prince Gail.
As Romandro’s response dragged on, Berik leaned back, shaking his head.
“Never mind. What does it matter? We’d better prepare to receive the Merelrof Count.”
“Indeed. Berik, since it came up, why don’t you get moving?”
“Ah, seriously! The doctor said my fatigue buildup is severe!”
“He also said he was amazed at how cleanly your wound has healed.”
Ian smiled and shooed Berik out. Then, suddenly mulling over the Gail incident again, he asked.
In truth, the capital had no official place called a slave market; the time slave traders stayed in the capital was essentially market day. Of course, deals happened discreetly, but those were mainly exchanges of existing slaves.
“But about those slave traders heading to the capital. They pass through Merelrof, right?”
“Hm? Well, they wander everywhere without discrimination, so yes, they’d go through Merelrof. If coming via Hawan Kingdom, that’s the only route.”
‘Indeed, since Lady Lien Merelrof and that Clark fellow are former slaves, it makes sense that slave caravans pass through Merelrof.’
Ian tapped the desk with his fingertips, lost in thought. Romandro glanced at him as usual, then meticulously sorted gifts for his family.
* * *
Another day passed.
“When do you plan to head to the capital?”
Pour.
Haina asked as she served warm tea. From the border to the capital took a fortnight by carriage. Considering winter, it was about time to set a departure date for comfort.
That meant the year’s end was just over a month away.
“I’m not sure yet. I should start preparing soon, though.”
“You’ll stay at Lord Romandro’s residence, right?”
“If the imperial palace provides lodging, I’ll stay there, but otherwise, yes. I’ll let you know once I’m up there.”
As he spoke, Ian felt a twinge of discomfort. He had vowed to rush straight to the Magic Department annex without hesitation upon entering the palace.
He would investigate the traces of Naum’s magic and find answers about this reincarnation. If he discovered a way to return to his original time, Ian would do so without a second thought.
That would mean leaving Bratz territory was tantamount to bidding these people farewell forever. Ian ducked his head into his book, trying to hide his complicated thoughts.
“The imperial palace. Just thinking about it makes my heart race. They say it’s the most beautiful palace in the world. The outdoor garden is covered by a glass dome, so during snow, it feels like being inside a giant igloo.”
“Ah, yes. There is such a garden.”
“Pardon? You know it?”
“…No. I’ve just heard about it.”
Ian unwittingly chimed in before slipping up. Haina giggled at the bland response and chattered on.
“And there’s a room where rain pours at a command, and another where flower petals swirl eternally through the seasons.”
“Lord Romandro must have told you.”
“Yes! Exactly.”
What Haina described was surely the Magic Department. Unlike ordinary rooms, that place was filled with spaces where supernatural events occurred frequently. Even he, the emperor and a mage, couldn’t claim to know every nook and cranny in detail.
“When will you return after going?”
“Hm. Who knows.”
Ian smiled faintly. If Emperor Ian vanished, would the original body’s owner, the bastard son Ian, return? He couldn’t presume or conclude anything.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
“Master Ian! Um, we have guests.”
At that moment, the door flew open urgently with permission. Ian merely nodded calmly. There was only one place such visitors could come from.
“Is it the Merelrof Count?”
“Yes. That’s right. The count and his wife are here together.”
“Very well. Escort them to the drawing room. Call Lord Romandro too.”
At Ian’s glance, Berik spat out his Gurut Leaf into the fireplace. He straightened his collar and checked the sword at his waist. Haina did the same, swiftly adjusting Ian’s collar, buttons, and knots.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes! Let’s.”
“M-Master Ian. Is there anything else to prepare?”
“The tea should already be on its way down. Have them bring some simple Gula snacks.”
“Yes, young master.”
Clatter clatter.
Swish!
Ian drew the curtain and peered below. Servants waited behind the carriage carrying the Merelrof Count and his wife. For an unannounced visit, it was quite a large entourage. They must intend to finalize today’s deal.
“Not bad.”
“What?”
“It means they’re halfway convinced.”
“So, what does that mean?”
Berik tilted his head quizzically, but Ian showed no intention of explaining. As they descended to the drawing room, servants lined the corridor, standing about with anxious expressions.
“Lord Ian!”
“Lord Romandro.”
Romandro, summoned by Haina, had clearly been asleep. He rubbed his tousled, bird’s-nest hair and blinked.
“The Merelrof Count and his wife are here?”
“Today’s the showdown.”
“Good. I’ll cheer you on properly.”
The two exchanged glances, steeling their resolve. As a servant opened the door, they approached the count and his wife with casual warmth.
“Count Merelrof, and madam! It’s been well? What brings you without notice?”
“Ahem. I hope we’re not interrupting.”
“Not at all. Is there anything more important than your visit?”
Ian politely clasped the count’s hand. Lady Merelrof extended her hand with an even brighter smile, and Ian kissed it without hesitation.
“We apologize for the sudden visit. But the matter was urgent, and I thought face-to-face would be best. Especially since it’s been so long since you last visited Bratz, Count.”
“I see. Please, have a seat.”
At Ian’s guidance, the Merelrof Count awkwardly puffed up as he sat. The gaunt man seemed to have gained a bit of weight. Gula’s doing?
“Did he eat all the Gula by himself?”
“Shh! Lord Berik!”
Berik whispered to Haina upon seeing it. She jabbed his side for the crude remark. The count, reluctant to speak first, was eased in by his wife softening the mood.
“The Gula was truly exquisite.”
“I’m glad it suited your tastes.”
“We heard the locals here go mad for it, and now I understand why. The flavor changes so much depending on preparation.”
The lady was utterly composed. No trace of their secret dealings could be gleaned.
“Did it suit your tastes as well, Count?”
“Indeed. It wasn’t bad, no.”
Even without theft, they would have come. Eating just a little once or twice a day had inevitably led them to dig up the buried seeds.
“I’m relieved.”
Having gauged each other’s intentions, what remained was obvious.
Ian leaned back, interlocking his fingers. It was to project ease compared to the stiffly upright Merelrofs.
“I assume your visit today is regarding the Gula trade. Am I correct?”
“That’s right, Lord Ian.”
As Lady Merelrof assented, the count spoke up in a low voice.
“You calculated well?”
“What do you mean?”
“The amount of Gula needed. Assuming, it seems we truly need about a hundred bundles to handle both cultivation and consumption. So this will be a bulk deal, yet I’m puzzled by the price and came in person.”
“Exactly, Lord Ian. This is our second trade, and a bulk purchase at that, so a discount seems in order. What’s neighborliness for?”
Romandro cleared his throat, eyeing a chance to interject, but it wasn’t easy. Ian signaled him it was fine.
“First, the reason we can’t lower the price despite bulk purchase is that Gula is a long-term storable ingredient. It’s not a crop we must rush to sell before it spoils.”
“That means you have plenty of stock to spare.”
“Precisely why we have no need to push sales. We can just store it and take it out when needed.”
His steady rebuttal was resolute. It subtly conveyed there would be no haggling.
The Merelrof Count’s face hardened, while his wife nodded subtly, feigning understanding.
“Moreover, providing some of our consumption quota to Merelrof via Gula trade is both profitable and a loss.”
“A loss? Things foraged for free from hills and fields turning into fifty gold coins each, and you call that a loss?”
“Apologies, but what was foraged from hills and fields has already vanished into our territory folk’s bellies. What we offer now are crops they’ve toiled to produce.”
He yielded not an inch. As the count tried to add something, Ian ignored him and continued.
“And do you know? Gula grows in dry sand or even water, but it dies if it snows.”
By their expressions, they hadn’t known. Ian gauged the timing with his fingers.
“It could snow any day now. Limits on Gula harvest are a given. After bulk sales, we’ll need to build greenhouses to compensate, so we must charge accordingly. It’s for the territory folk—I trust you understand, Count Merelrof.”
When Ian had gone to procure crops for relief, hadn’t he raised prices for similar reasons? Ian was the same. It was the “fair line” circumstances dictated, and he smiled brightly.
“Thus, I cannot trade below fifty gold coins. This upholds the will of His Imperial Majesty, who sought to rebuild this place—and beyond that, the territory folk.”