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Quido quietly watched Beitram as he sat down in the chair, exhaling roughly. His lord was not in a good mood right now. Folluk, who had visited with plenty of gifts disguised as New Year’s greetings, had done nothing but complain.

If anyone wondered what greed was, they need only look at Folluk Castor. He was the embodiment of greed itself.

They had placed him at the head of the merchant group thinking he would be easy to manipulate like a puppet, since all he had was flowery speech. But Folluk was cleverer than expected. Though they had brought him into the merchant group, it was Folluk himself who had expanded his influence.

‘I was planning to load three carriages full of gifts for the Count, but sales haven’t been good lately. The Count must know. The Bickman family has fearlessly started dealing in Freemont goods, haven’t they? They set up some shabby merchant group and started doing business, which seemed laughable at first, but it’s no joking matter. The rumors are concerning. All the nobles who spend money are flocking there, you know? Will you continue to just watch while they disrespect you like this?’

Ships carrying goods for the Nix merchant group, which had quickly recruited the Merchant Association and the capital guard, were arriving almost daily. They were selling an enormous amount of goods. Naturally, sales at the shops managed by the Folluk merchant group were declining.

“……Can’t just cut them down.”

Quido, who had been lost in thought, looked up at the voice filled with killing intent. Beitram’s fierce gaze was fixed on the sword hanging on the wall.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have anyone suitable to replace Folluk yet. He may be worthless, but he’s useful. Please don’t be too angry.”

“Bickman seems to be doing quite well.”

“His skills are remarkable. He’s eve n won favor with the temple by promising to donate part of his profits every month. Everyone is eager to help because they all benefit as the Nix merchant group prospers.”

“And at the center of it all is the Blue Water Lily.”

Quido knew exactly who Beitram was talking about. Since reporting to him about the songs the minstrels were singing, Beitram had taken to calling Lucienne the ‘Blue Water Lily.’

“She’s truly extraordinary. A few days ago, she brought in a fish that can only be eaten in the duchy and provided it free to an inn. People who tasted it couldn’t stop talking about it, so the entire marketplace was buzzing about that fish. Some people even saw the fish being prepared, and they embellished the story like a hero’s tale, so everyone is already eagerly anticipating the arrival of that fish. Her ability to use rumors is exceptional.”

Beitram, who was raising his wine glass, snorted. Quido could easily tell that he was impressed with Lucienne. Seeing him smile like that despite news that should make him angry.

“What about the prince?”

However, at the direct question that gave him no leeway, Quido straightened his back again.

“He was indeed the related person. When I investigated the prince’s close associates, I found someone who knew that man’s appearance. It was a group of merchants that Prince Pelowic regularly brings into the palace to hear news of the outside world.”

Though he was reporting it simply, it hadn’t been an easy task. He had to investigate in detail the servants and nobles who could regularly contact the prince.

What proved decisive was the maid in charge of the prince’s afternoon tea time. She immediately recognized the portrait of the man that Quido had drawn through an artist. She had been observing the noticeably handsome man every time, even though he wore a mask.

It was fortunate for Quido that she was someone who needed money due to her vanity. There was no one easier to manipulate than someone motivated by money.

“So he was hanging around the prince with such clumsy deception. When is his next visit scheduled?”

“Nothing is set yet. Prince Pelowic will soon go to Freemont to attend a wedding. It will be February by the time he returns. If we find out the schedule, we could strike when he’s with the prince.”

Listening to Quido’s words, Beitram filled his wine glass. Looking displeased with narrowed eyes, he slowly raised his glass.

“Even so, involving Pelowic won’t be easy. If we make a mistake, it could backfire.”

“……”

“Without that man, Pelowic is nothing but a weak fool anyway. There’s no need to unnecessarily escalate matters.”

Beitram, who had downed his drink, licked his wet lips and muttered.

“Yes, a weak fool.”

“Do you have something else in mind?”

Quido carefully observed his lord’s expression as he asked. Beitram’s golden-green eyes, like those of a ferocious beast, were flashing.

“Request an audience with the prince. I should pay my New Year’s respects before he leaves on his journey.”

Taking a breath, Beitram added with a long laugh.

“The prince will open the way to that man.”

“I’ll see to it.”

Quido bowed and was about to turn to prepare to leave when Beitram flicked his hand.

“How about a game of chess? It’s been a while.”

“Would I be worthy to play against you?”

He was quite good at chess himself, but he was no match for Beitram. Having not played chess for several years because he couldn’t find a worthy opponent, Beitram had recently been taking out the chessboard whenever he felt bored.

“Well, it might not be as fun, but I’m curious how you would play.”

Beitram rose from his seat and walked to the table where the chessboard was placed. While knocking over some of the already arranged pieces, he said.

“I’ll start without the queen and knight.”

As Quido approached the table following him, he smiled faintly and spoke in a humble tone.

“I appreciate your lord’s generous consideration, but isn’t it too generous?”

No matter how excellent Beitram’s skills were, he didn’t think he would lose if Beitram started without the queen and knight, which constituted a large part of his strength. That was the problem.

His lord’s mood changed frequently. It wouldn’t be a wise choice to win the game at a time like this.

“You talk too much.”

Beitram, seated in the chair, moved a pawn. Swallowing a sigh, Quido sat across from him. It would be better to leave the decision of whether to win or lose to the situation. In the silence, the shadow of the fireplace was flickering largely.

* * *

Pelowic dismissed the servant who was helping him dress and adjusted his collar. His complexion seemed to have turned even paler due to nervousness.

It was not surprising that nobles came to pay New Year’s greetings to him as a prince, but it was the first time Count Balshwin had visited. The nobles who supported him were excited, saying that the haughty Balshwin had finally decided to side with His Highness, but Pelowic knew that couldn’t be the case.

Balshwin was a wolf with hidden claws. The money he earned from trade with Freemont was being used to raise private soldiers whose spearheads might be directed at him at any moment. When his ambition had completed all preparations and fully bore fruit, the wolf that had been biding its time would begin the hunt.

There must certainly be a reason for him to visit at such a time. He tried to guess the reason but couldn’t think of anything, which made him anxious.

“Count Balshwin has entered the palace.”

At the servant’s respectful announcement, he solemnly nodded.

“Guide him to the outdoor garden.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Clenching his fist with his now cold-tipped hand, Pelowic thought of Lars.

If it were him, he wouldn’t be this nervous. Even if the opponent were not Count Beitram Balshwin but the previous Count Balshwin, he would face him calmly and confidently.

Lars had been like that since childhood. He was more intelligent, brave, and dignified than himself, who had received proper education. Watching him, Pelowic felt he understood what it meant to have innate royal blood.

His father had not accepted him, but Pelowic had always lamented that. What if Lars had been by his side with a proper status? He often thought about that when he felt lonely.

Knowing that Lars’s mother was of low status, his father still desired her, and when she died giving birth to the child, his father was desperate about how to deal with the child. So the young boy lived like a servant, keeping his distance from him, until at the age of sixteen, he left for the battlefield with Askun.

He knew what that meant but couldn’t stop it. His father’s will was firm, and the grown Lars said he would rather die on the battlefield than live here for another day.

But he survived. As soon as he heard that the war with Askun was ending with only the final agreement remaining, Pelowic went to the battlefield himself under the pretext of comforting and encouraging the soldiers.

How could he explain the sense of debt and joy he felt when he saw his brother’s face among the cheering soldiers?

He cried all night when he visited Lars’s tent, which was a mess covered in dirt and blood stains. Lars, who had completely shed his boyhood and become a rough mercenary, merely handed him water with a bewildered expression.

Just as Pelowic had watched him, Lars had also been watching him since childhood and knew his troubles well. The situation of the royal family filled with his father who wanted his only heir to be stronger, his own lack of capacity, and wolf-like nobles waiting for an opportunity.

He was nothing but a sailboat that could capsize at any moment. The nobles who had good relationships with his father still supported him, but on the day his father’s halo disappeared, they would turn their backs according to their interests.

After briefly asking about Lars’s well-being and hearing about the situation with Askun, the conversation flowed to his own position. Because there was no one he could speak openly with, Pelowic couldn’t stop himself from talking.

‘I’ll help you.’

It was when he was feeling dizzy from exhaustion after pouring out his story. Lars, who had thrown him onto the dusty bed because his strength had fallen due to the long journey, said that. Pelowic, who was covering his mouth due to continuous sneezing, barely managed to ask.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’ll have nothing else to do when the war ends. And.’

Lars tended to speak of big matters casually. Looking at him blinking his eyes, Lars smirked.

‘Your Highness has saved my life several times, so I should repay you at least once.’

They were all in childhood. When the head servant, who had read the king’s displeasure with Lars, deliberately made young Lars fall into the lake as if by mistake, he had jumped in to save him. Though he had to suffer from a cold for quite a while because of it.

There were also times when he provided medicine and food when Lars fell ill after being deliberately assigned harsh tasks in the cold winter. There had been countless such incidents because young Lars was bullied a lot. Recalling that, Pelowic burst into tearful laughter.

‘When I saved you, I didn’t need to risk my life, but when you save me, you might need your life.’