"Insufferable."
The Crown Prince's tyranny continued throughout the marquess assembly.
The gold veins of House Barth — to whom did they rightfully belong? Were they not, in principle, the property of the imperial family?
Or alternatively:
The North's army had effectively been permitted by the Emperor — so why was it being moved at someone's personal discretion?
That was the sort of nonsense he kept spouting, on and on.
The marquesses seemed well accustomed to this behavior from the Crown Prince; they offered little in the way of reply.
The Marquess of House Callum could not hide his look of disappointment.
He had thought the tyranny might change — but nothing was going to be different.
"We can ignore what the Crown Prince has to say. I'd like to return to the matter at hand."
"Agreed."
With a single sentence, I filtered the Crown Prince out entirely.
No matter how much he thrashed and railed,
what the Crown Prince could actually offer was limited.
Had the Emperor himself come in person, the conversation would have been an entirely different one.
But a Crown Prince with virtually no real authority — what benefit could anyone hope to gain from his presence?
"House Kadla is currently in a situation of severe mastone shortage."
House Kadla — lords of the western desert, as they were called.
But given the nature of desert terrain, they frequently found themselves in acute shortage of basic resources.
Anything that came from mountain ranges, in particular.
On top of that, their food supply depended heavily on the inexhaustible oases within the desert.
Unlike the North,
it was a structure deeply vulnerable to the environment.
There was no way to cool a desert, nor to improve the fertility of its soil.
"If one passes through the Barth estate, doesn't it reach House Kadla rather quickly?"
"It does. However, in terms of distance, calling it close would be something of an overstatement."
"Two days, perhaps?"
"At least three days, and there's also the geographical obstacle of crossing the desert."
I turned it over in my mind.
In that case, establishing a storage facility for mastone at the Barth estate — or a processing facility — and using it as an intermediate point seemed like the most workable approach.
House Kadla wasn't the most attractive trading partner,
but the thought occurred to me that they could be linked together like interlocking pieces.
A triangular formation: Barth — Kadla — the North.
Economically, it had the makings of a very sound structure.
"T-trades and transactions not sanctioned by this person are, in principle—"
"Setting mastone aside for a moment, I'd like to hear what House Kadla has to offer."
"House Kadla, hear this! According to imperial law, transactions between noble houses—"
House Kadla was deep in thought.
They didn't hold gold in abundance the way House Barth did,
and any foodstuffs sent along the road to the North would spoil long before they arrived.
Besides, in my estimation, the North was not so hungry as to need food from House Kadla. If anything, we ate better than they did.
"What about salt, carpets, and dyes?"
"Hmm. That alone still falls a little short."
"For the time being, if House Barth permits, what if we established a processing facility there and used it to set the direction forward?"
"If you pay the costs, the gap might narrow somewhat."
At some point, House Kadla had begun ignoring the Crown Prince entirely.
In truth, the North and House Kadla had much in common.
Both were situated in harsh, difficult-to-penetrate terrain — the desert on one side — and as a result, there was a strong tendency for a degree of autonomy to be recognized.
On top of that, they had their own food supply in reasonable measure.
Their dependence on the Empire was minimal.
"Salt and dyes are appealing, but who knows how far our mastone will stretch."
"Might I ask what upper limit you have in mind?"
"At least fifty wagons' worth."
"Fifty wagons! Hmm..."
The one watching most carefully throughout this exchange was Marquess Roland of House Barth.
Ah, this is a fine deal. I hope no one notices.
That was the feeling I got from him, and I couldn't quite say why.
In truth, no matter how much mastone or iron the South produced,
it amounted to less than thirty percent of the North's output.
And the amount needed kept growing — demand was exploding.
"On top of that, we could start with several loans, and take some gold coin as well."
"Fifty wagons' worth would be..."
"Don't forget that. If the roads and other conditions are acceptable, we are prepared to begin trading immediately."
House Kadla began to deliberate.
Being able to offer this much mastone was an enormous benefit, to be sure.
There would need to be some middle ground found.
"For now, we would like to send our working-level officials to the North to narrow down the proposal."
"Please do, Marquess Kadla. We welcome you at any time."
"We will send officials to House Barth as well."
Marquess Roland nodded.
For House Barth, whatever happened would be to their advantage.
Even without the gold veins, becoming an intermediate hub for House Kadla would be a gain.
Most satisfying of all, though, was watching the Crown Prince sit there, utterly unable to move.
"Let us work it out gradually. Together."
The other houses said nothing.
There still appeared to be many marquess houses keeping a watchful eye on the Crown Prince.
But they would come to understand.
The prospect of mastone being poured out in such quantities
was a deal that would make anyone's mouth water.
The assembly concluded on that note.
The Crown Prince had not managed to say a single word by the time it ended.
No — it was more accurate to say he had been unable to.
A Crown Prince with no real authority had nothing he could do in an assembly like this.
Only Baron Remi was left stamping his feet in frustration.
"By the way, have you confirmed whether the shipment arrived at the Barth estate?"
"I haven't checked yet."
"By today, it should have arrived."
It was the North's first export —
the moment the North's strength began to reach outward into the world.
When the assembly ended, I returned to the lodgings without a word.
"Oh — you're back?"
Daniela looked flustered, hastily hiding something away.
What was that.
"You're hiding something, aren't you?"
A Grand Duke cannot contain his curiosity.
I followed Daniela around the room. Whatever she held in her hands looked something like a book.
But it was a cover I had never seen before —
a design I had never encountered in the North.
"What is it? Bring it here!"
"N-no! Grand Duke!"
We went around the lodgings what felt like several times as I kept trying to catch her. The room filled with the loud clatter and thud of the chase.
In the end, I caught her by the shoulders and lifted her up, the way one might carry a princess.
Well, she was a princess, in a manner of speaking.
"What were you reading?"
"I-it's nothing, really!"
"Are you getting cross with me now?"
"W-when did I ever—"
When I set Daniela down on the bed, a book tumbled out with a thump.
A single book, popping out like a dropped item. A red cover. And just barely visible at the edge of the pages inside—
Quite,
"So you were reading this sort of thing..."
"Th-that—!"
"You should have just said so."
Heh heh —
Even as I tried to wipe the smile away, I couldn't wipe away the amusement.
A Grand Duchess turning red with embarrassment. Her face was scarlet.
Really, what was I to do with her.
What was I to do with this woman.
For now — perhaps the North could wait just a little while.
—
Clatter — clatter —
An endless procession of wagons stretched on and on toward the Barth estate.
Alongside them rode soldiers in leather armor atop unusually small horses, keeping watch on either side.
The North's merchants. Merchants in name, but they had come packed into nearly five wagons apiece.
"W-what on earth is all this?"
The estate officials of House Barth were thoroughly bewildered.
Nearly every working-level official had already come out to deal with the resources arriving from the North and the merchants accompanying them.
The North's merchants turned out to be formidably tenacious.
Physically and mentally alike,
they were practically grinding the estate officials down.
"No, no! For a quantity like this, you ought to hand over at least one full gold ore shipment."
"W-well, let us first verify—"
"Before you accept goods like these, you need to settle the transaction cleanly first."
On one side, a merchant had seized an official by the arm and was making a scene about drawing up a contract.
The other merchants were no different.
And the merchants who had come without wagons of their own were saying, quite brazenly:
"We've come to find where the money flows in House Barth."
There were also many North merchants who, having spotted what looked like vacant land,
were saying they would buy it if it could be traded.
"F-for now! We will seat the merchants separately — but the goods first!"
"Absolutely not! Who checks the goods before anything else!"
There were a few complications,
but the officials were working through all the goods that had arrived from the North.
The mastone came to roughly fifteen wagons' worth,
and the iron ore to roughly ten wagons' worth.
The iron ore was not an especially large quantity, but the quality was exceptional.
It was good enough to hand directly to a smithy and begin production.
"My goodness, the amount of mastone..."
The mastone was piled up in dense black heaps,
and if all fifteen wagons were emptied at once, it looked as though it might fill a small fortress.
But what were they supposed to do with all of it here.
The officials were quite at a loss.
On top of that, there didn't seem to be any suitable facility to store a quantity this size.
"How do you intend to make payment?"
"Er — by promissory note?"
"Come now, we're not old acquaintances. There's no one to stand as guarantor."
The officials were considerably taken aback by the attitude of the North's merchants.
At that moment, the one who stepped forward was the head of the North Central Bank.
It wasn't ordinarily a situation that required his personal involvement,
but he had judged that dealing with the formidable North merchants would require someone from the North.
Besides, when it came to settling payments in promissory notes or gold coin,
someone would need to bring order to the proceedings.
"Mr. Jackson, how do we even begin to—"
"One at a time, in front of me!"
At a single word from Jackson, the merchants came rushing forward.
An enormous quantity.
An enormous array of goods.
No one could have known it would all come pouring out like this, all at once.