《Disregard Fantasy, Acquire Currency》


 Prologue: Gone Before Their Time

    ¡°I can¡¯t diagnose any specific reason for your malaise. Except, perhaps¡­¡± The doctor looked at his clipboard with pursed lips. ¡°I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s just not much more I can do to improve the situation. At your age, with your lifestyle, it¡¯s a miracle you¡¯re both mentally sharp and ambulatory.¡± He folded the clipboard beneath his arm. ¡°Dr. Hathburn was your previous physician, right? Has he finally retired?¡±


    ¡°Died of natural causes,¡± responded the old man sitting on the couch, enjoying a coffee even at the late hour. ¡°I¡¯m wondering how good his health advice was if he died ten years my junior.¡±


    The doctor laughed at the old man¡¯s candor. ¡°Dr. Hathburn was¡­ seventy-seven, wasn¡¯t he? Well, given your diet, I can¡¯t explain it either. Fate works in mysterious ways.¡± The doctor began to put some of his testing implements away. ¡°Are you going to be alright on your own, Willem? Do you have any relatives taking care of you?¡±


    ¡°Dead as well,¡± Willem answered like he was used to saying it. ¡°Children, nephews, nieces, even the far-removed ones that crawl out of the woodworks at the smell of generational wealth.¡± He drank his coffee. ¡°I almost miss the requests to see my will.¡±


    As the doctor continued putting his tools away, he said politely, ¡°I could arrange a live-in nurse for you.¡±


    ¡°Waste of money.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°I can still walk, still do everything myself.¡±


    The doctor furrowed his brow. ¡°You could probably buy my entire hospital, sir. One nurse to improve your quality of life won¡¯t even be a blip on your fortune.¡±


    ¡°And subject some poor woman to this?¡± Willem gestured toward his enfeebled body.


    ¡°There are male nurses,¡± the doctor said. ¡°And taking care of people like yourself is precisely what they get paid for.¡±


    ¡°I intend on dying with dignity, face down in the bathroom floor after an unfortunate slip,¡± Willem disagreed.


    The doctor chuckled, closing his case of instruments. ¡°Since you ignore most of my advice anyway, I¡¯ll just say to work at being happy, Willem.¡±


    ¡°You should take that advice yourself, because I am happy.¡± Willem sipped his coffee.


    The doctor didn¡¯t rush to disagree, staring with a question on his lips. ¡°How can you be happy?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re in a bear market. Stocks are on sale. Short-sighted people are selling to ridiculous extremes. The market was overvalued, but not this overvalued.¡± Willem shook his head, and the doctor looked minutely troubled, reflecting on something he¡¯d done. ¡°Well¡­ I suppose I¡¯m happy in bull markets, too. I¡¯ve never thought about it much. I was always busy doing things.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°That¡¯s all it takes to be happy? The market?¡± The doctor listened intently.


    ¡°What, you want some secret? Do you think there¡¯s pills for the rich called ¡®happy pills¡¯ that ensure we¡¯re always happier and healthier than the plebians? Do you think I take daily injections of blood plasma from newborns?¡± Willem looked at the doctor, who shook his head at the joke. ¡°Of course that¡¯s it. There¡¯s nothing quite as enjoyable to me as the market.¡±


    The doctor looked like he simply couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°You can¡¯t take the money with you,¡± he eventually pointed out.


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± Willem finished his coffee. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s all going to people like you when I finally kick the bucket. People that actually contribute something to the wellness of the world, instead of routing money from one pocket to another.¡±


    ¡°Investors play a valuable role. Still¡­ charity, huh?¡± The doctor looked reflective, shifting on his feet. ¡°You¡¯re not afraid of dying?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never died. How could I know?¡± Willem mused, studying the bottom of his empty cup.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think about it?¡± The doctor asked. ¡°Whether or not there¡¯s an afterlife, anything like that?¡±


    ¡°If I followed my father¡¯s teachings, I¡¯d have called a priest for a confession ages ago were that the case.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°All I think about is what¡¯s going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, next decade. All of that other tripe¡­ distractions. I¡¯ll leave the existential hullabaloo to angsty youths.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why you¡¯ve lived so long.¡± The doctor smiled reflectively, then evidently decided it was time to leave. ¡°If you have any more problems, call my number day or night. If you think it¡¯s an emergency, don¡¯t hesitate to use your personal emergency response system. I¡¯ll see you again¡­ next month, I think?¡±


    ¡°That, or my casket.¡± Willem raised his empty coffee cup. ¡°Go on home, kid.¡±


    The doctor pointed. ¡°If there is an afterlife, Willem, I hope you get into a good one.¡±


    Leaving that, the doctor walked away. Willem chuckled at his well-wishes, and once the doctor had left his house, picked up a tablet. It had been zoomed in all the way so he could read the text, and he gradually swiped through a long and comprehensive document.


    As time went on, Willem found it hard to keep his eyes open. He set the tablet down, rubbing at his eyes. He looked to his coffee cup, then at the distant brewer in the kitchen of his one-story home. He briefly tried to stand, before surrendering to the couch. He leaned his head back into the pillows, letting the feeling overtake him.


    He stared at the pictures on the wall of his cramped living room, each one capturing faces he¡¯d never speak to again, of lives that had slipped past him. Some were black-and-white, others vibrant with color¡ªbut all of them were smiling faces frozen in the past. All of them, except Willem, were gone. He leaned his head back, letting the weight of his thoughts settle as the room dimmed around him.


    As night bled into day, those photographs came to depict none of the living.

 1: Alive Beyond His Time

    A tall and broad man with a warrior¡¯s physique sat at a table, staring at a full plate of food. He sat alone. The meal¡ªa hearty thing, consisting of a fine slice of red meat supported by eggs¡ªlooked appetizing enough, and though the man held his cutlery in hand he didn¡¯t begin to eat. He cast glances up at the door, evidently waiting on someone.


    When the door opened, his crystal blue eyes sharpened before creasing in disappointment when the person he¡¯d been waiting for didn¡¯t walk through.


    ¡°Majordomo,¡± he greeted, setting his fork and knife down.


    ¡°Baron Tielman,¡± the majordomo answered, bumping a few chairs in his haste to walk across the room. ¡°Your son is delayed.¡±


    The baron briefly toyed with the fork, and a flash of gold pulsed out of his hand as he called upon his aura to deform the metal. The majordomo crossed his hands behind him and walked backward out of caution.


    ¡°What was his reasoning?¡± Tielman asked concisely.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± the majordomo rubbed his hands together. ¡°Young lord Willem claimed not to recognize anyone when we awoke him. When I tried to remind him of this important meeting, he entirely disregarded what I said. He asked some very strange questions.¡±


    ¡°What sort of questions?¡±


    ¡°¡¯Where am I? What is this place?¡¯ He asked about kidnapping, and called me a¡­ ¡®twisted deviant with a head like an orange.¡¯ These statements were undoubtedly intended to foster some sort of idea about his incapability. When we tried to be minutely forceful, Willem was¡­ unreceptive.¡± The majordomo lowered his head. ¡°I know you said we¡¯re to ignore any tricks he might attempt. As an aura user, he is beyond us in strength, but I didn¡¯t want to call upon the knights unless¡ª"


    ¡°Ask him once more to come,¡± Tielman interrupted. ¡°If he refuses again, you can call upon my knights.¡±


    ¡°At once, my lord.¡± The majordomo bowed, then walked away.


    ¡°One moment.¡± The baron picked up his plate. ¡°Our meal¡¯s grown cold. Keep it warm. I¡¯ll ring for the staff to bring it out again.¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡± The majordomo took the plate, then retrieved another on the table¡ªthe plate meant for Willem. He walked away into the kitchen.


    After the majordomo had left, Baron Tielman looked at the deformed fork. With a spot of embarrassment, he picked it up, trying to correct the damage he¡¯d done. He tried bending it back into shape, but it ended up looking only more and more awkward. He grabbed other prongs in an attempt to make them level, and eventually he ended up with a somewhat normal-looking fork that only looked odd in comparison to the others at the table.


    Time passed, the baron sitting in solemn silence. He tapped the table, waiting, glancing, tapping his foot, watching the shadows change through the window¡­ but no one new passed through the door. He listened for a commotion, but none came. Just as he braced himself to stand, the door opened, and a maid stood at the doorway.


    ¡°What?¡± The baron asked sternly.


    The maid looked a little frightened. ¡°Just¡­¡±


    ¡°She was showing me the way,¡± a man answered. ¡°I was lost.¡±


    The door opened wider, and the maid shrunk away in his wake. A tall blonde man, who¡¯d inherited the baron¡¯s crystal blue eyes, walked inside. Just as his father, Willem had a warrior¡¯s physique¡ªbut more than that, he¡¯d unlocked the warrior¡¯s power of aura. He carried himself in that manner, too¡ªconfident, cocksure. He had some right to do so, being so strong at so young an age. Tielman thought his son looked different somehow, but he couldn¡¯t place why.


    Once the door shut, Willem looked right at Tielman. ¡°People tell me you¡¯re my father.¡±


    Tielman shook his head. ¡°I won¡¯t entertain your games. Sit.¡±


    Willem didn¡¯t move to sit immediately, and Tielman briefly wondered if his son would openly defy him. Fortunately, Willem pulled back the chair opposite him and sat. Tielman exhaled gratefully, and rung the bell to have their meals brought out.


    Willem regarded the staff curiously as they walked in. When his meal was placed before him, he said ¡®thank you.¡¯ Tielman raised a brow, and even the serving staff cast him an uncertain glance before quickly giving them privacy.


    Willem picked up knife and fork, and began to cut into the steak. ¡°This is novel. A meal with¡­ Willem¡¯s father,¡± he said, as though the words were awkward on the tongue. ¡°Why don¡¯t you explain what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Tielman had thought he¡¯d need to be the one to broach the subject. He looked at his son firmly and said, ¡°I¡¯ve given you time to reform on your own. I¡¯ve given you warning after warning, but eventually threats must be carried out.¡± He took a deep breath, preparing for what needed to be done. ¡°I can no longer tolerate your repeated transgressions. You¡¯ve shamed me, you¡¯ve shamed the family, and most importantly you¡¯ve shamed yourself.¡±


    Willem nodded casually as he chewed like they were speaking about someone else. ¡°What do you think I actually did?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°I don¡¯t intend to go into an accounting of what you¡¯ve done,¡± Tielman said firmly.


    ¡°Why not? You¡¯re a little too young to be forgetting things,¡± he said challengingly. Meeting Tielman¡¯s icy glare, he continued, ¡°If you honestly think I¡¯m your son, wouldn¡¯t I be owed some honesty?¡±


    Tielman let his thoughts flow freely after the provocation. ¡°Undermining my knights. Causing conflict in the household. Jeopardizing the border the house of van Brugh has guarded since the days of my father¡¯s father with your repeated lapses of judgment.¡± The baron put his elbows on the table, leaning in. ¡°But above all¡­ challenging the succession. That, above all your sins, I cannot forgive. If we fall to civil war, the border will be overrun. We would be remembered as failures, forevermore.¡±


    Willem nodded. ¡°What¡¯s the verdict?¡±


    Tielman cut through his steak as he spoke. ¡°Tomorrow morning, several things will happen. You will pack whatever you need for a six-month stay. You will board an enchanted carriage bound to the capital, and depart. My attendant will take care of you while you¡¯re there.¡±


    Tielman chewed on his steak, waiting for Willem to bring up some objections. His son sat there, listening and eating, but he asked no questions.


    ¡°When you arrive, my old tutor shall provide you lodging. He will teach you what it means to be a van Brugh¡ªdisrespect him at your peril. I¡¯ve given him leave to do whatever is needed to bring you back to the right path.¡± Tielman stared down his son.


    Willem narrowed his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    Tielman didn¡¯t know how to respond to that, at first. He continued to eat, then gave a perfunctory nod.


    ¡°What time tomorrow?¡± Willem pressed.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be woken,¡± Tielman answered, waiting for more queries.


    Willem¡¯s gaze went distant in quiet thought before he nodded. ¡°Works for me,¡± Willem shrugged, then practically inhaled a bite of the eggs. ¡°Ostrich? Exotic.¡±


    Tielman waited for more, eating his breakfast while casting occasional glances at his son. Willem, however, stared at his own plate as he ate. He looked to be lost in thought. He¡¯d seldom seen his middle child this restrained. Callous jokes, witty remarks, undermining observations, unending complaints¡­ Willem was always energetic, ambitious, driven. Now he seemed reserved and distracted.


    Though the baron continued to eat in silence, he felt himself losing his appetite. Tielman had hardened himself to be able to meet his son¡¯s typical brashness, only to be met with no resistance. He certainly wasn¡¯t the most empathetic father, yet a change this dramatic¡­ was something genuinely wrong with his boy? Willem had fought so hard to stay within the castle at all times, yet now he so easily left it? Or was this, too, another ploy to avoid any repercussions?


    ¡°Willem¡­¡± Tielman said, and his son looked up. The words, ¡®how are you?¡¯ and ¡®is something wrong?¡¯ danced on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself unable to actually say them, just as ever. In the end, he ended up asking, ¡°What do you want to do?¡±


    ¡°To do?¡± Willem repeated. ¡°Today, or generally?¡±


    ¡°Generally,¡± Tielman answered quickly, glad his son had steered them the direction he¡¯d hoped to go.


    ¡°Generally¡­¡± Willem put down his fork, and leaned back in his chair. ¡°This has all been quite abrupt, and I¡¯m not entirely sure what¡¯s happening¡­ but my answer¡¯s never changed before, and it won¡¯t now.¡±


    ¡°You wish to be the baron,¡± Tielman finished.


    ¡°What? No. Business. I want to do business.¡±


    ¡°Meaning¡­ trade? Merchantry?¡± Tielman asked to confirm, in total surprise.


    ¡°Close enough.¡± Willem nodded, a smile playing about his face. ¡°Once you stop being a piece in the game and start being a player, it¡¯s difficult to imagine going back. No matter where I find myself, that wisdom holds true. And do you know where I actually find myself?¡±


    The baron shook his head, finding it hard to stay focused.


    ¡°I find myself in an inefficient market.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°Look at this.¡± He pulled out a silver coin from his pocket and placed it upon the table. ¡°Coins. It¡¯s a curiosity, but fancy silver isn¡¯t exactly a testament to sophisticated financial markets. I pity the traders that have to haul these around.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± the baron said. His vision had some whiteness in it¡ªwas he this surprised at his son¡¯s words? ¡°You spent countless days on the training field. You obsessed over unlocking your aura. I thought you followed the¡­ knight¡¯s path,¡± he finished with a wheeze, bizarrely short of breath.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about any of that.¡± Willem shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m of a mind that violence is actually quite weak. It takes a very strong man not to engage in vain chest-pounding to display superiority. I like to think I¡¯m a little more than a gorilla.¡± He spun the coin between his fingers. ¡°No offense, of course.¡±


    At the unpleasant arrival of a pain in his chest, and a roiling sensation in the aura permeating his body, Tielman finally realized that something was very wrong. He clutched his throat.


    ¡°Heartburn? Old men should stay away from fatty meats, someone once told me.¡± His son shook his head with a wistful smile. ¡°Though¡­ you¡¯re in rather good shape. I¡¯m not sure why¡­¡±


    Tielman tried to reach for the bell, but he knocked it over. He grasped the table and tried to rise, only to find his legs were liquid. He collapsed to the ground, barely able to draw short breaths. Willem came to stand over him, but the baron¡¯s sight was already blurring, and he couldn¡¯t discern the expression on his boy¡¯s face. He tried to speak, but his throat was shut tight.


    Despair set over him as he realized that this poison might claim him.


    ***


    Willem stared down at Baron Tielman. He was no doctor, but he didn¡¯t think people were supposed to go black and blue and bleed from the eyes. He grabbed the bell the man had been grasping for moments before he¡¯d fallen and gave it a ring. After a short delay, someone entered¡ªthat old man with the wrinkly bald head that had been terrified of him.


    ¡°I think we have a problem.¡± Willem set the bell down gingerly, then crouched before Tielman. ¡°It seems to be mostly his problem, actually.¡±


    Judging from the look on the servant¡¯s face, though¡ªthe accusatory, frightened eyes, and the trembling lower lip¡ªit might also be Willem¡¯s problem soon enough. Murder wasn¡¯t particularly well-received in any culture, much less patricide. This young man sharing Willem¡¯s name had sufficient motive and what sounded like a character low enough to try such a thing.


    His first day of awakening in this young man¡¯s body was proving to be a rather eventful one.

 2: Adopted at 87

    Lennard was out in the field inspecting the border outposts when a messenger came riding a swift steed, bearing a message that he¡¯d never heard.


    His father, Baron Tielman, had collapsed.


    From there, time felt it flowed at ten times the speed. He didn¡¯t know when he had arrived back at the castle, but by the time he did, he was already looking at his father, who was breathing unsteadily in bed. Purple veins throbbed on his body, and his skin had grown pallid.


    ¡°¡­lord Lennard. Young lord Lennard?¡± said a voice, gradually growing louder as the ringing in his ears abated.


    Lennard whipped his head over to the healer. ¡°What happened to him?¡± he demanded.


    The healer lowered his head. ¡°¡­as I¡¯ve been saying, there¡¯s little doubt in my mind that he was poisoned.¡±


    ¡°Poisoned?¡± Lennard repeated in disbelief. ¡°How could this happen? Have¡­¡± he looked around, and spotted some guards. ¡°Have everyone who worked on his food today detained!¡± he shouted.


    ¡°It¡¯s already done, young lord,¡± the knights confirmed. ¡°They¡¯re in the jail, awaiting your arrival.¡±


    ¡°It was an incredibly potent poison, young lord, that¡¯s rather difficult to acquire,¡± the healer continued to explain. ¡°It attacks aura users specifically. Clatgrass, it¡¯s called; a purple flower that grows in marshes where basilisks sleep. I suspect it would have killed him instantly, if not for the fact that the baron had asked the chef to keep the food warm while he waited for the late young lord. The application of heat likely diluted its effect.¡±


    Lennard exhaled loudly, then asked, ¡°Will he live?¡±


    ¡°I cannot honestly say,¡± the healer confessed. ¡°I¡¯ve healed all that I can with my magic, and I¡¯ll continue to do so. But the nature of this poison turns the user¡¯s own strength against them. It is an insidious drug outlawed in all nations except Avaria to our north.¡±


    Lennard tried to hide his trembling. Through dumb luck, his father had been spared an instant death, yet it still lingered by his bedside. Baron Tielman was a legend. To his allies, the Shield of the North; to his enemies in Avaria, the Scourge of the South. He was meant to die in battle, or better yet of old age in his bed. Not poisoned. Not¡­ this. Yet here he was all the same.


    ¡°The young lord was late, you said?¡± Lennard remembered a detail the healer had mentioned. ¡°I assume you don¡¯t mean me. Who?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡ªyes. Willem,¡± the healer elaborated.


    ***


    Lennard stared down at his younger brother, Willem. His nonchalance in the face of their father¡¯s poisoning was a strong indicator of his character, he felt. Was there any filial son that could remain so composed when death lingered near their father¡¯s side? Apparently, all he¡¯d done since the poisoning happened was return to his room, waiting patiently.


    Lennard spared greetings, diving straight into the purpose of his visit. ¡°Father was poisoned after a meal with you. Conveniently, you were late for said meal,¡± he outlined, all but accusing his younger brother directly.


    Willem asked passively, ¡°Is he dead?¡±


    Lennard ground his teeth together. ¡°No. He kept the meal heated as he waited for you, and that distorted the effect of the poison.¡±


    ¡°Really? He was bleeding from his eyes. I assumed he¡¯d be a ghost by now.¡± He gave a smile. ¡°Still, it¡¯s good news.¡±


    ¡°Not good news for all,¡± Lennard implied. ¡°While the meal was heating¡­ it would¡¯ve been the perfect time for a would-be assassin to slip something into his meal. While you were absent.¡±


    ¡°I saw half a dozen people scurrying away from me like rats in the hall as I wandered about.¡± Willem waved vaguely. ¡°The maid that fetched me did so on the second floor. Plenty of witnesses.¡±


    ¡°Why do you make excuses for yourself when I talk about an assassin?¡± Lennard put his hand on the hip opposite his sword, looming closer over his brother.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re playing it that way.¡± Willem pointed. ¡°I thought you made these things called ¡®allusions.¡¯ It¡¯s when you imply something by speaking indirectly. I thought you were alluding I had poisoned him, but it¡¯s clear I thought too much of your intelligence. I won¡¯t repeat that mistake.¡±


    Lennard could only stare, a bit stung. His brother seldom said such bold words to his face¡ªeither it was a sign he was cracking under pressure, or he was letting the mask down now that their father was poisoned.


    ¡°There¡¯s going to be a full investigation,¡± Lennard vowed, then pointed at the ground. ¡°I¡¯m calling our brothers back here. Upon my title as the Goldrain Knight, should the worst come to pass¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Goldrain Knight?¡± Willem interrupted. ¡°Who calls you that?¡±


    Lennard shifted uneasily. ¡°All those who call themselves my friend and ally.¡±


    ¡°Goldrain?¡± Willem studied him dubiously. ¡°Are you sure they¡¯re your friends? If someone called me the Knight of the Golden Shower, I¡¯d be a little wary of them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject,¡± Lennard continued heedlessly. ¡°I¡¯ll discover who did this. And when I do, that person will learn how I earned that title.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s actually quite frightening¡­¡± Willem mumbled as he rose to his feet. ¡°Do you realize that he and I had the same meal? Why do you assume that it was intended for the baron? It¡¯s perfectly reasonable that our identical fares could¡¯ve been switched.¡± He took a step closer. ¡°You¡¯re worried and you¡¯re young, so I¡¯ll cut you some slack, but from all I hear, I was as close to dying as your father.¡±


    Lennard ground his teeth together, feeling a swell of embarrassment. Before it could consume him, he left the room and mulled over those cutting words. Could his brother have been the target? Clatgrass was quite rare. Even if someone held a grudge against Willem, who could possibly obtain it? He didn¡¯t have time to think on it long. When he left the room, his father¡¯s steward was waiting outside.


    ¡°Baron regent,¡± the majordomo bowed. ¡°The attendant that your father called for has arrived, and he¡¯s looking for direction. He¡¯s already been paid for, so¡­ we ought to put him to use.¡±


    Baron regent. It felt strange, hearing that title¡­ yet not entirely unpleasant. He focused on the majordomo. ¡°What attendant?¡±


    ¡°A talented young man named Dirk, sir. He was to accompany young lord Willem to the capital to begin reeducation. If you¡¯d like, we could continue with that schedule,¡± the majordomo suggested.


    ¡°Not a chance. Willem isn¡¯t leaving,¡± Lennard refused at once. ¡°But¡­ has this ¡®Dirk¡¯ already been paid?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Lennard tapped his gauntleted fingers against the side of his leg. ¡°If my father chose him, he must¡¯ve expected him to monitor Willem¡¯s progress, right? Write reports, that sort of thing?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the majordomo confirmed.


    ¡°It¡¯s simple, then. Have Dirk attend to Willem, exactly as father intended.¡±


    ***


    Family drama had always been trite. Willem avoided it wherever possible. It was a bit difficult to keep track of all the moving pieces, especially when all of the pieces were boring and all their concerns largely inconsequential. Now, he viewed an entirely new family¡¯s drama all from first-person. He knew none of the backstory, and he hadn¡¯t even learned the other fellow¡¯s name. All that he had was this bizarre, inexplicable scenario.


    Willem had come to another body¡ªone that shared his name. He spoke the language, could read their words, yet he didn¡¯t know any of the people around him. They had no answers for him, either. He didn¡¯t quite know what to do with this information¡ªhave a mental breakdown, perhaps? Accept reincarnation as fact and convert to a new faith? Struggle to discover what had happened?


    In the end, Willem hadn¡¯t expected much in the way of more life. He¡¯d lived the other to its fullest, and now there was a whole new road stretching ahead of him. He¡¯d decided to keep walking, perhaps out of habit. Even here, only one thing called out to him. Whether it was in digital form, paper bills, or lumpy coin, the world of finance and its endless intricacies continued to draw him in. The idea of starting from the beginning, in an entirely different environment¡­ it was certainly tantalizing.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    He sat on his bed a while, lost in thought. He stared at the bear rug for a long while, considering his troubled situation. If this fellow whose body he¡¯d landed in had poisoned his father¡­ what could be done about it? Willem didn¡¯t know any of the evidence he was meant to hide. He couldn¡¯t even remember the name of the old man who¡¯d come to him in the morning, much less the brother he¡¯d been saddled with.


    A knock interrupted his musings.


    ¡°It¡¯s open.¡±


    The door parted, and in walked a plain-looking short lad. ¡°Young lord Willem. I¡¯ve been instructed to serve you.¡±


    Willem narrowed his eyes. ¡°I think can serve myself.¡±


    ¡°On that point, there¡¯s no doubt.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s my orders, sir¡ªboth of the baron regent, and that of the baron. I¡¯m to help and look after you. My name is Dirk, and I¡¯ll be your personal attendant for the next six months.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. I¡¯m about to sleep, anyway.¡± Willem shook his head, merely annoyed, until a thought came to him. ¡°I hope that¡¯s not what you meant by ¡®serve.¡¯¡±


    Dirk looked greatly troubled. ¡°Of course not. I¡¯m merely here to carry out what menial tasks you need.¡±


    ¡°Alright then. I can think of a few things right away.¡± Willem sat up, deciding to take the opportunity to gather information.


    ***


    A night had come and gone, and Willem had overcome the insurmountable¡ªlearning people¡¯s names.


    Willem set down the teacup upon a table in his room. He wanted a morning drink, and the attendant had one prepared. He didn¡¯t like tea especially. He liked to drink something that tasted like battery acid smothered in sugar¡ªenergy drinks, sodas, or most often coffee for the mornings.


    ¡°Would you like more, young lord?¡± the male attendant asked carefully.


    ¡°Good lord, no.¡± Willem shook his head, and the attendant seemed uneasy. ¡°All tea tastes like grass in a puddle. It¡¯s like you took a single hard candy and dropped it into warm water.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll strive to do better,¡± the man answered obsequiously.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. It¡¯s the tea¡¯s fault, not yours.¡±


    Willem studied the young man. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin; quite plain, all things considered. He was short¡ªthat was a good sign. From Willem¡¯s experience, short people were generally angrier, but they tended to work harder in light of their shortcomings. Additionally, they made him seem taller than he actually was when they stood beside him. Willem only hired people shorter than himself as secretaries or attendants. Right now, he might need a hand. It wasn¡¯t often that he was thrown off-balance, but waking up in another¡¯s body threw quite the large wrench into his long-term plans.


    Willem¡¯s scrutiny made the man uncomfortable, and the attendant asked uncertainly, ¡°Young lord¡­?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your name again?¡± Willem asked.


    The man closed his eyes like death had come to him. ¡°Dirk, young lord.¡±


    ¡°Dirk?¡± Willem laughed. ¡°That¡¯s it? Dirk?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The man lowered his head.


    Willem pointed his finger. ¡°You¡¯re perfect, Dirk.¡±


    Dirk lifted his head in surprise. ¡°What? The tea, young lord? Or¡­?¡±


    ¡°You have a pitiful look about you.¡± Willem leaned in slightly. ¡°Sad eyes, I¡¯d say. You¡¯re short, and you look malnourished. You were probably bullied as a child. I certainly would have bullied you if we were both children. Even your name, Dirk¡­ it just exudes a certain sadness. It¡¯s perfect for what I need.¡±


    Dirk¡¯s defensiveness redoubled, and he cast glances at the door as if contemplating escape. ¡°I-I don¡¯t follow.¡±


    ¡°Lennard seems to think I¡¯ve attempted to kill Baron Tielman,¡± Willem stated plainly, and Dirk seemed surprised he even said it outright. ¡°Why do people generally kill their parents, Dirk?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± he responded flatly.


    ¡°You can guess,¡± Willem pointed out, annoyed. ¡°I hope that¡¯s not expecting too much from you.¡±


    Dirk wracked his brain. ¡°Revenge? Inheritance? Possession? That¡¯s what I¡¯ve heard, at least. It¡¯s never entered my mind.¡±


    ¡°Possession?¡± Willem leaned forth. ¡°Elaborate.¡±


    ¡°Evil spirits, demons, or wights invade the mind and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Does that actually happen, or is it just tales spread by the ignorant?¡± When Dirk shrugged, Willem asked, ¡°What about people possessing people?¡±


    Dirk¡¯s eyes rolled as he thought. ¡°Some black magic might be able to do that, but it¡¯s certainly not common enough I¡¯ve ever heard about it.¡±


    He leaned back with a sigh. ¡°What would I gain from the baron¡¯s death?¡±


    ¡°Is that rhetorical?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You could¡­¡± Dirk looked hesitant to say more. ¡°¡­dispute the succession.¡±


    ¡°Is that what Lennard thinks I intend to do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the thoughts of the baron regent.¡± Dirk shook his head.


    ¡°Again¡ªyou can guess.¡± Willem tapped his temple rapidly. ¡°A little initiative, a little forethought, goes a long way.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ succession would be the concern of most people, I would think,¡± Dirk said vaguely. ¡°Especially an eldest son with an ambitious younger brother.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t care less about who ends up in his seat¡­ if the man even dies, that is. Seems everyone is pulling out his will and reading it while he¡¯s still breathing. Hopefully it angers him enough he actually wakes up.¡± Willem sighed. ¡°Do you think renouncing my right to inheritance could alleviate some of his concerns?¡±


    ¡°Disinheritance?¡± Dirk sputtered. ¡°That¡¯s not something done lightly.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s better than the oubliette, I¡¯d hazard.¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°Or worse, the guillotine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a legal process, and the young lord remains an exceptional aura user and a blessing to his house.¡± Dirk paused for a time, then continued with conviction, ¡°I doubt proper justification could be found for stripping you of your birthright and obligations.¡±


    ¡°I keep hearing this term. What¡¯s aura?¡±


    Dirk looked at him uncertainly, like he was being toyed with. ¡°Aura is a manifestation of a warrior¡¯s will. With it, they can perform incredible feats far beyond what the body¡ª¡±


    ¡°Alright, I get it.¡± Willem waved to silence Dirk. ¡°It¡¯s magic.¡±


    ¡°Not¡­ not magic, young lord. A swordsman must¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s sword magic.¡± Willem nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s not magic,¡± Dirk insisted firmly, then added as a panicked afterthought, ¡°¡­young lord. Having trained with the sword, you should know this.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Willem turned to the table. ¡°This very non-magical magic power isn¡¯t my problem, anyway. You said disinheritance was a legal process?¡±


    Dirk nodded.


    ¡°Do you know these laws?¡±


    Dirk furrowed his brows, then said, ¡°Not well.¡±


    He stood up. ¡°Where would one need to go to learn the laws of succession?¡±


    ¡°I believe the library would have them, young lord,¡± Dirk supplied.


    ¡°Great. Dirk, go get me any and all books related to succession law.¡± He clasped his hands together. ¡°There¡¯s probably a civil way out of all this.¡±


    Dirk processed the command, but stood in place. ¡°The law¡­ I¡¯m quite certain that anything written down will dictate you have no legal claim to become baron.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I asked you to get it. Start walking.¡± Willem lifted a pastry off a plate, holding it out. ¡°Take a tea cookie as a service fee.¡±


    ¡°What are you planning to do?¡± Dirk asked, taking the cookie without much enthusiasm.


    ¡°Are you writing a book? Spying on me?¡± he pressed. Dirk tensed at the last question, but Willem missed that fact. ¡°I¡¯m going to see if there isn¡¯t a way I can¡¯t ease the baron regent¡¯s fears in a legal fashion. Of course, I¡¯d need my share of the trust to be paid out, so to speak.¡±


    Dirk looked stunned. ¡°What¡­ what would the young lord do without the Brugh family?¡±


    Willem sighed. ¡°Let me tell you something, Dirk. I seldom give lessons, so I suggest you pay close attention.¡± He leaned in, and Dirk came to attention. ¡°Do you want to know who lives the best life?¡±


    Dirk waited, but no answer came. He eventually answered, ¡°The nobility? The dukes, the kings?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Willem scrunched up his face in disgust. ¡°You¡¯re overseeing this vast territory full of people who resent you for levying taxes, and you have all these people trying to take your place or your territory. You can¡¯t just sit around eating grapes¡ªthis is how coups begin. Some prime minister sees some king living a bit too well, and then he decides to get a guillotine and start a revolution. Forget the king. I¡¯d never do that job.¡±


    Dirk didn¡¯t look like he entirely agreed, but he only asked, ¡°Who, then?¡±


    ¡°The financiers,¡± Willem said grandly. ¡°The investors. The moneylenders. They give someone else a penny, and that man or woman uses it to work long and hard. When all is said and done, that penny comes back¡ªwith interest. Instead of collecting taxes, you avoid them.¡± Willem emphasized that point with a finger. ¡°While the actual workers are breaking their back, the money men sit around reading books, eating grapes, chatting, gossiping¡­ you can live like a rich child with absentee parents. Nothing¡¯s better.¡±


    Dirk frowned. ¡°I had an absent parent. It wasn¡¯t¡ª"


    ¡°I said a rich child. It¡¯s different for you, I imagine. You have my condolences. Being poor must be rough¡ªnot that I¡¯d know,¡± Willem apologized. ¡°But stay with me, Dirk, and you can have someone feed you grapes. If you work hard enough, it might even be someone attractive.¡±


    Dirk looked at Willem peculiarly. ¡°Have you ever even seen a grape this far north?¡±


    ¡°Get the books, Dirk.¡± Willem walked to his bed and sat down.


    ¡°At once, young lord.¡±


    Dirk left the room hastily, and Willem spent some time examining the room. Whatever this was¡ªdream, illusion, it wasn¡¯t ending. If this unpleasant circumstance could be overcome, it seemed that sunny days awaited him. He wasn¡¯t interested in playing make-believe with his alleged family. All he wanted was to dive into the market, as ever.

 3: Deathbed Disinheritance

    ¡°The entire week, he¡¯s just been reading?¡± Lennard said in surprise, looking upon the attendant as he gave his report late in the night. ¡°Reading what?¡±


    ¡°Many things. Law books. Maps. Economic records. Censuses of the territory, and some beyond it. He¡¯s been paying particular attention to succession law.¡±


    Lennard leaned back in his chair, feeling that everything had become somewhat clearer. ¡°Succession law, is it?¡± He scoffed, laughing. ¡°Not even trying to hide it. I imagine he¡¯s looking for allies, too.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s paying particular attention to disinheritance, baron regent. I believe that¡¯s his intention,¡± Dirk continued.


    ¡°Disinheriting me?¡± Lennard laughed. ¡°As if he¡¯d ever find justification for that. There¡¯s no grounds, no precedent. And he¡¯s not even the regent.¡±


    ¡°I believe his intention is to disinherit himself, actually,¡± Dirk continued. ¡°If he¡¯d been preparing for this a long while in advance, why would he not be prepared? Would he not have read these books long in advance, and already be acting out his plan?¡±


    Lennard stared at the attendant. ¡°As I recall, I asked you no question.¡±


    ¡°Just¡­¡± Dirk swallowed nervously. ¡°¡­trying to show a little forethought. A little initiative.¡±


    Lennard said coldly, ¡°I asked you to gather information, not to form opinions.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Dirk lowered his head. ¡°My apologies, baron regent.¡±


    ¡°You can go. Report to me if he does anything outside of what you¡¯ve already outlined,¡± the baron regent dismissed.


    ***


    Dirk walked to the room of the strange young lord Willem, bearing a tray with tea. Without fail, Willem insulted his tea every time he brewed it. Nevertheless, he kept asking it be made. It was a perplexing thing. He stopped before the door, took a deep breath, and opened it up.


    Willem laid on his bed, reading through documents with a grin on his face. He didn¡¯t notice Dirk¡¯s presence until he put the tray down on the bed¡ªstrange, for someone practiced in aura to be so inobservant.


    ¡°Dirk,¡± Willem greeted him by name. ¡°Tea again, I assume.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Greenberries and¡ª¡±


    ¡°All tastes the same, anyway.¡± Willem drank it, and set it down. ¡°Dull. Next time, just squeeze some fruit juice into the cup¡ªsame result, but less time spent. I won¡¯t mind.¡± Willem held out a document. ¡°You know what¡¯s not dull? This.¡±


    Dirk took the paper, skimming it. ¡°It looks like a statement of a loan, young lord.¡±


    ¡°Half-right. You read fast.¡± Willem took the paper back. ¡°This is called a bottomry contract. They¡¯re given to fund voyages¡ªseafaring vessels. The moneylender charges high interest, but in return, they agree to drop the loan if the vessel used as collateral in the loan sinks, is captured by pirates, or whatever.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­¡± Dirk trailed off, hesitant to voice his opinion after being rebuked by the baron regent.


    ¡°Like a terrible deal for the moneylender?¡± Willem smiled. ¡°Yeah. It is. It¡¯s rife with fraud. I imagine ships ¡®disappear¡¯ all the time, and people make away with tremendous sums of money. Even with rigorous processes to interview potential merchants, the moneylenders get screwed all of the time. But, fundamentally¡­ do you know what this is?¡±


    ¡°A bottomry contract.¡±


    ¡°I walked into that one¡­¡± Willem sat up on his bed. ¡°It¡¯s insurance. It¡¯s a really terrible form of insurance, but it¡¯s insurance.¡±


    ¡°Insurance,¡± Dirk repeated.


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple concept. Let¡¯s say we have this bed.¡± Willem grabbed it. ¡°You really like this bed. If it was destroyed, you¡¯d cry. I imagine you cry a lot, Dirk.¡±


    ¡°Not particularly¡­¡±


    ¡°Regardless, you like this bed,¡± Willem brushed past Dirk¡¯s rebuttal. ¡°Hence, you pay me a monthly fee, worth vastly less than the value of the bed. You become insured, and I become the underwriter. If anything happens to this bed while you¡¯re paying insurance, as the underwriter, I¡¯d give you money equivalent to the value of the bed so you could replace it.¡±


    ¡°Sure. That¡­ that makes sense, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°You suppose, do you?¡± Willem smiled. ¡°I love insurance. If you do it right, basing it off statistics and probabilities, you¡¯ll generally make off quite well.¡±


    Dirk thought about the matter. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re betting they¡¯ll pay long enough that what you earn from fees is larger than the payments made to the customer? That¡¯s how money is made?¡±


    ¡°In part.¡± Willem nodded. ¡°For one, what policyholders pay isn¡¯t revenue, per se¡ªyou¡¯d classify it as money reserved for insurance claims. By reserving it for payouts, it helps avoid taxes. I don¡¯t know how that¡¯ll fly in this backward economy, but I think I can sell it¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Whatever the case, the true value of the insurance business is this¡ªthe money people pay in premiums can be put to use in other investing activities until you need to pay out the claim. They¡¯re essentially interest-free loans.¡±


    Dirk said nothing, but he thought this all sounded rather risky.


    ¡°I can see on your face that you¡¯ve doubts. They¡¯re good doubts. Caution is good, but I know what I¡¯m doing. As I said, the only bit of insurance I could find was this.¡± He lifted the bottomry contract. ¡°We¡¯re dealing with my wet dream. I often wake up sweaty at night thinking of this, and then I have to explain to my partner why the sheets are ruined.¡± He leaned in. ¡°Dirk, we¡¯re dealing with an inefficient market. It¡¯s the duty of any red-blooded capitalist to correct those inefficiencies, for the sake of the people.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°How would this¡­?¡±


    ¡°How does this help people?¡± Willem put the paper down. ¡°Imagine this. You own a house. It burns down. No insurance, you¡¯re on the streets. With insurance, you¡¯ve got the money to buy a new house. In a way, the underwriter is betting that nothing bad will happen. I think that sort of service entitles them to profit. It¡¯s all rather fair.¡±


    Dirk did see the utility in the idea, but he had doubts about whether Willem could actually make it work well enough to generate profit. More importantly, he doubted that this man with his terrible reputation could get people to buy into the idea.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to be my insurance salesman, Dirk.¡± Willem patted him on the shoulder.


    ¡°What?!¡± Dirk said loudly in alarm.


    ¡°Like I said, you¡¯re perfect. You have sad eyes. I do the analysis, the number-crunching, the information-gathering, then you go out there looking all pitiful. We certainly won¡¯t be giving out bottomry contracts. Bleh. No¡ªI have a much better business in mind. The details can come later. There¡¯s only one thing I ask of you.¡± He pointed. ¡°Never lie to a customer. Never. We¡¯ll do honest business, but make great money. Integrity, and the reputation it affords, can¡¯t be bought.¡±


    Dirk blinked in surprise at that request. Before he could ask if Willem was being serious, a knock at the door disturbed him.


    The door opened, and a well-groomed butler stepped inside. ¡°Your father is ready for visiting. Your brothers have called for you.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Willem rose. ¡°First, I have to get out of this annoying obligation. But aren¡¯t you excited, Dirk? I certainly am.¡±


    ***


    Three young men stood around a bed where an emaciated older man laid wrapped in blankets. It was clear from their shared appearance that the four were close family¡ªgolden hair, blue eyes, cream skin. They were all quite physically fit, excepting Baron Tielman lying down with his eyes closed. He bore scars from years of warfare, and his considerable frame seemed to make his atrophied muscles all the more pitiable.


    The scene couldn¡¯t be clearer¡ªthree sons, standing at what could be the deathbed of their father.


    One might expect tears in such a situation; hugs of comfort, either among themselves or with the man dying. Instead¡­


    ¡°I never thought you¡¯d actually do it,¡± Hans said, crossing his arms as he looked at Willem. ¡°Much less cock it up so badly.¡±


    Willem looked what he thought was the youngest brother, Hans. He only had the words of Dirk to guide him¡ªand with a name like Dirk, his instructions couldn¡¯t be too reliable. But Dirk¡¯s description matched. Hans was the shortest of them, yet still tall enough that his casual arrogance could be seen as charming rather than annoying. He wore his hair in a lazy ponytail.


    In the end, Willem chose not to answer. He didn¡¯t see the value in verbal sparring over someone¡¯s sickbed.


    ¡°Hans.¡± Lennard focused on the youngest among them. ¡°Why did you and the other knights start calling me the Goldrain Knight?¡±


    A brief flash of amusement came to Hans bewildered face, but Willem saw him skillfully hide his smile with a contemplative purse of his lips. ¡°Why, it¡¯s because your golden aura in battle flows so skillfully and constantly it might be likened to rain.¡±


    Lennard nodded, giving a glance at Willem to ensure he¡¯d heard. After a time, he asked Hans another question. ¡°Where¡¯s Godfried?¡±


    ¡°Delayed, I hear, by a minor border raid. He can handle it, but it¡¯ll take time. Meanwhile¡­ you and I have to decide what to do about him,¡± Hans gestured. ¡°Are there any free racks we can put him on, or are you devoting all of those to torture the kitchen staff?¡±


    Lennard looked at Hans icily. ¡°There is no ¡®you and I.¡¯ I¡¯m the eldest son. I¡¯m the regent. And I, alone, will decide what happens.¡±


    Hans clicked his tongue. ¡°Oh, look at you. Already acting like the baron. You¡¯re not half as frightening as father, even when he¡¯s lying in bed like this.¡±


    Lennard shook his head, then looked back at their father. After a while of silence, he studied Willem. ¡°The librarian tells me you¡¯ve been getting a lot of books.¡±


    ¡°I have been.¡± Willem nodded without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ve been studying the succession law of the kingdom.¡±


    Hans laughed. ¡°Not even trying to mask it at all?¡±


    ¡°And what about succession law has you so interested?¡± Lennard asked firmly.


    ¡°Disinheritance.¡± Willem stared at Lennard. He didn¡¯t like this young fellow much at all¡ªmuch too guarded. ¡°You seem to have gotten it into your head that I had something to do with this. Your reasoning, I imagine, is that I¡¯m gunning for this man¡¯s seat. Well, I figure there¡¯s only one way to absolutely prove you wrong.¡±


    Lennard¡¯s firm face showed cracks for the first time. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the baron regent. You¡¯re the head of the household while Tielman is indisposed. That carries with it certain legal rights¡ªprincipally for our situation, the right to disinherit.¡±


    Hans shook his head. ¡°Nah, that¡¯s not true. The king made quite sure that no one could disinherit in any non-hereditary position like a regency, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Unless, of course, the person who the request affects gives their explicit consent, with proof it was not done under duress confirmed by an accredited mage¡¯s lie-detecting spell.¡± He held his hand out. ¡°If I agree to be disinherited, Lennard, you can disinherit me. We can put this damned farce behind us, once and for all, so I can go about my day without thinking of this nonsense ever again.¡±


    Lennard and Hans were both confused, and could muster no words at all.


    ¡°Would you like to go get started on that process, Lennard? Or shall we continue saying mean things to each other while your father lies dying in front of you?¡±


    ***


    Lennard stared down at the paper splayed out before him. On the very bottom of it was a signature. The part that read ¡®Willem¡¯ looked practiced and refined, while the ¡®van Brugh¡¯ looked like a messy scrawl, almost as if the man wasn¡¯t used to signing his own last name. Maybe he wasn¡¯t¡ªWillem didn¡¯t have many official duties in the household.


    He leaned back in his chair, feeling odd. His younger brother had asked for only three things: to be disinherited and cleared of all noble obligations while keeping the van Brugh name, to be paid a sizable sum of gold, and to be transported with armed guards¡ªplus the one known as Dirk¡ªto the county of Gent. The contract detailed that in precise language. Their sister was married to the count residing there, but as far as Lennard knew, that was the only connection Willem actually had with the place.


    Willem had spent years honing his swordplay and his aura. Lennard had always felt a secret panic watching him train, watching him grow more skillful every day. If envy was the thief of joy, it had robbed much of his. Willem was far more skillful far younger, and eventually caught up to Lennard, who was ten years his senior. He had thought Willem aimed to take his place as heir. Their father did nothing to disabuse him of the idea that would be possible.


    Now¡­ their father was dying, and Willem had expressed an earnest desire to leave.


    A signature, and a visit to the magistrate assigned by the Cabinet. That was all it would take to rid himself of this tremendous fear¡ªa monstrously talented younger brother. Lennard knew his father wouldn¡¯t approve. But Tielman wasn¡¯t here, now. His father couldn¡¯t linger over his shoulder any longer, judging his every move.


    Lennard leaned forward quickly, grabbing the quill and dipping it in ink. He lifted it up, watching it drip down, then brought it to the parchment. He rapidly inked his name, then set down the quill. With a ring of the bell, the door opened. His father¡¯s¡ªno, his majordomo entered.


    ¡°Majordomo. Good timing. When the ink dries¡­¡± Lennard stood, tapping the paper. ¡°Deliver this to the magistrate¡¯s office. After, bring Willem, and bring what¡¯s dictated on this contract. I¡¯ll send someone ahead to watch the whole process.¡±

 4: Cash or Kinship?

    Willem, Dirk, and the van Brugh¡¯s majordomo rode horses across the road. It was an opportunity to see and understand this land better than he could¡¯ve inside that stuffy stone fortress. Looking back, it was quite the imposing structure¡ªit stood atop a hill not far from a valley, where there were several other fortifications built to receive invaders. This territory was highly fortified. According to the maps Willem had reached, this barony bordered land simply labelled ¡®Avaria¡¯ in every document and map. It was a hostile nation, apparently. Information was scarce.


    ¡°Does moving faster spark any interest, young lord?¡± Dirk suggested to Willem. ¡°It¡¯s freezing.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± Willem studied Dirk, who was shivering. ¡°I feel fine. Perhaps your childlike physique is holding you back.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Dirk¡¯s question embodied confusion, then he continued indignantly, ¡°You have aura. Your body is always in the best shape it can be, unlike the rest of us.¡±


    Willem removed his puffy overshirt and tossed it at Dirk. The man caught it, nearly falling off his horse to do so, and looked at it in confusion.


    ¡°There. Wear that.¡± Willem felt the cold wind drifting through his thin undershirt, but as Dirk said, the cold didn¡¯t seem to affect his warmth at all. ¡°I want to look around, I haven¡¯t ridden a horse in ages, and we don¡¯t want to frighten the zoo by moving too quickly.¡±  He looked back to the escort behind them.


    Lennard had sent a tremendously large entourage of knights to follow Willem, and the majordomo stuck near them. It certainly didn¡¯t feel like this group was sent for their safety¡ªrather, Lennard was probably concerned Willem would run off. It made a certain sense¡­ and if this place was dangerous, those men could keep them safe. He couldn¡¯t complain too much.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Dirk spoke uneasily, putting the shirt on. When he was done, he studied Willem with some concern. ¡°Do you really mean to go through with this disinheritance, young lord?¡±


    The shirt was far too large for Dirk, and Willem laughed through his nose in amusement. ¡°I never lie, Dirk. You¡¯ll never hear a falsehood from my lips. Maybe a joke, but I try to make those obvious for the simpletons among us.¡±


    Dirk seemed skeptical of that claim about his honesty, but continued, ¡°Because if we go into that building¡­¡± he pointed ahead, where what looked like an outhouse stood on an elevated platform. ¡°You¡¯ll meet the magistrate assigned by the king¡¯s Cabinet. Members of the Cabinet wields the authority of the king. Getting a decree from a magistrate overturned is as difficult as wrestling an ogre.¡±


    Willem turned his head back, and then retrieved the paper bearing Lennard¡¯s signature. He reread the contract once more, doing undue diligence. ¡°Dirk¡­¡± He looked at the man. ¡°You¡¯ve read the number, right?¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± Dirk nodded. ¡°A little over six thousand gold coins. That could pay my salary for eighty years.¡±


    ¡°Yes. In silver coins, seventy-two thousand. Assuming the one-to-twelve exchange ratio I read about stays true, that is.¡± Willem inhaled. ¡°It¡¯s all liquid. Not tied up in real estate, not reliant on someone¡¯s death¡ªjust hard currency. And you¡¯re wondering if I got the bad deal?¡±


    Dirk saw his point, but felt the need to argue his own. ¡°This barony is massive, young lord¡ªI doubt I need to remind you. Far to the south, there¡¯s the summer palace. Deeper in the valley, there¡¯s the Eaglefort. On the eastern coast, you¡¯ve the small port of Geldirn. All of them belong to your father¡ªall of them with over a hundred of the best knights in the kingdom sworn to their service.¡± Willem looked south, to the heart of the kingdom. ¡°Not even the four grand duchies can claim to have better soldiers than House van Brugh. You¡¯d forfeit your right to any of that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve read this is one of the most active haunts for man-eating beasts.¡± Willem looked around.


    ¡°None a match for an aura user,¡± Dirk argued. ¡°But yes. Griffons and rocs plague the mountains. There¡¯s at least one lich of the thirty your father failed to kill in the Grand Crusade, ten years ago. Giants and ogres sometimes¡ª¡±


    ¡°And the lord of those places has to fight those things, right?¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°He has to maintain these knights sworn in his service, has to collect taxes from the people, has to take orders from whoever in the hierarchy outranks him? And worst of all¡ªhas to defend against invading nations?¡±


    ¡°¡­there¡¯s quite a bit of downtime, as you¡¯ve seen,¡± Dirk pointed out. ¡°And you fight for the glory and honor of the king.¡±


    Willem laughed. ¡°Would you like to die for some king you¡¯ve never seen?¡±


    Dirk looked back to the knights in a panic, but fortunately none seemed to have heard. ¡°People have died for saying less.¡±


    ¡°Well, that proves my point.¡± Willem shrugged. ¡°I keep the name, get an exorbitant payout, and I¡¯m freed of all responsibility to fight.¡±


    ¡°The responsibility, perhaps, but not the reason to. Avaria is a cruel master,¡± Dirk continued quietly. ¡°They worship an eight-headed god, sacrifice people to the ice, and maintain entire cities of slaves.¡±


    Willem looked curious. ¡°How do you sacrifice to the ice? Icicle to the throat?¡±


    ¡°They shackle people into basins filled with water, then leave them overnight to freeze.¡± Dirk shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m told they collect bodies for shrines in this manner. They¡¯re attempting to make the world colder so that they might thrive.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying the Avarians are responsible for global cooling?¡± Willem laughed heartily.


    ¡°It¡¯s no laughing matter! Their shrines are emitting an energy into the air that makes the birds g¡ª"


    ¡°I¡¯ve read all the horror stories about their shrines. The accounts seem dreadfully biased, but I will say they don¡¯t sound like the most pleasant culture.¡± Willem looked at the fortresses, at the vast patrols of footmen and cavalrymen. ¡°Still, I think I can better serve the world elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an aura user of the famed House van Brugh. You¡¯d be a welcome addition to any household around the whole kingdom.¡± Dirk exhaled, his breath leaving mist in the air. ¡°It¡¯s just unusual.¡±


    ¡°Who got far in life being usual?¡± Willem asked pointedly.


    They stopped at the stairs leading up to the elevated platform. Willem dismounted just as Dirk did, then led his horse to a nearby post meant for keeping their mounts safe. Willem tied a terrible tie, and then Dirk fixed it when he¡¯d turned away.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Small door,¡± Willem noted, walking up the stairs. ¡°Is it a booth of some kind? Do we talk through a horn?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been?¡± Dirk joined Willem walking up the stairs. ¡°We¡¯re on the roof, now¡ªthat cabinet leads inside.¡±


    Willem looked perplexed, but he tried the doors of the cabinet. He looked greatly confused when the space within seemed infinitely larger than what the cabinet should support. He looked around the back, then at Dirk, questioningly.


    ¡°What? It¡¯s only a portal,¡± Dirk said like Willem was acting foolish.


    ¡°Right.¡± Willem looked ahead, deciding this was beyond his understanding. He merely walked inside.


    ***


    ¡°So, why the name Cabinet?¡± Willem asked the man leading him downward.


    After passing through the cabinet, they arrived at the top step of a spiral stairway. Willem was near-certain that this was the inside of the building that the cabinet had been placed atop. Now, he followed his escort to meet the magistrate, passing by lamps who glowed with the light of magic.


    The young man in clothes ill-suited for this cold place looked at Willem strangely. ¡°Are you genuinely asking?¡±


    ¡°Did I sound sarcastic? Yes,¡± Willem answered.


    ¡°Ah, well¡­¡± The man adjusted his collar uneasily. ¡°Some centuries ago, King Carolus put out the Decree of the Repossession of the Royal Cabinet. It mandated that any mage taking permanent or semi-permanent residency within the kingdom was a part of his personal cabinet.¡±


    ¡°¡­meaning?¡± Willem pressed.


    The man laughed, more out of nervousness than any genuine amusement. ¡°¡­to be part of the cabinet is to be the king¡¯s direct subject, and thus under his direct authority. It was a power grab, plain and simple. But the guildmaster of the then-named Arcane Association chose to rename his organization to ¡®Royal Cabinet,¡¯ and blatantly ignored the king¡¯s orders. Most mages flocked to the organization, loathing the idea of surrendering freedom. After near a decade of standoff, in which war felt inevitable¡­ King Carolus eventually died.¡±


    ¡°Ah. The old, ¡®wait for them to die¡¯ strategy.¡± Willem nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve done that a few times myself.¡±


    The man looked mortified, casting glances at Willem. Perhaps if Willem could actually be self-conscious, he¡¯d realize the man thought he was talking about Baron Tielman.


    ¡°But Dirk said the Cabinet actually does have the king¡¯s authority.¡± Willem looked over. ¡°What¡¯s changed?¡±


    ¡°These days¡­¡± The man shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s less of a joke. The decree that caused all this was overturned, but it didn¡¯t matter. The affront to the crown¡¯s authority was already made. Successive kings were more energetic, and successive guildmasters markedly less so. Now, our organization genuinely does serve the crown.¡± He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s impossible to learn magic in peace without being in the Royal Cabinet.¡±


    They reached the end of the long spiral stairway. His escort beckoned him.


    ¡°In here?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the man dipped his head. ¡°I¡¯ll wait here for your departure.¡±


    Willem didn¡¯t hesitate in pushing through the door. Awaiting him was an office. Just as with the cabinet, this place seemed impossible to fit into the space that it resided within. The place was bright and sparkly, and housed a great deal of books and strange creatures in jars.


    At the end of the room, there was a desk. A bald woman sat behind it, wearing elaborate clothes that seemed impractical. The feather collar, in particular, looked like it¡¯d get stuck on doors. Across from her were two chairs¡ªone held Hans, while the other sat empty.


    ¡°Brother,¡± Hans greeted. ¡°Lennard sent me here to watch, make sure you actually signed the document. I never much liked taking orders, especially not from dull people like our eldest.¡±


    ¡°No, indeed,¡± the magistrate said.


    ¡°But I did want to talk to you,¡± Hans finished, then looked at her. ¡°Could you allow us a moment of privacy?¡±


    The magistrate sighed as if it was annoying. She held her hands near her ears, and light gleamed around them. She pulled her ears free of her head, opened a drawer, and tossed them in before recklessly slamming it shut. Thereafter she retrieved two metal balls, slotting them into place where her ears had been.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the circus act?¡± Willem pointed as she began to write on paper, showing an attitude of complete disinterest.


    ¡°Our dear magistrate prefers grand displays of magic over walking a few feet away to give us privacy.¡± Hans smiled at him. ¡°But speaking of acts¡­ what¡¯re you planning, here?¡±


    ¡°Fire exit, seems like,¡± Willem said. ¡°Get out before everything burns down.¡±


    Hans laughed. ¡°Sure, sure. But¡­¡± He looked back, studying the magistrate. ¡°As you know, I¡¯ve always had good relations with the Cabinet. And we both know that Lennard is dumb as rocks. I¡¯ve been calling him the Goldrain Knight six, seven years now, and he doesn¡¯t realize it was a joke at his expense. He still proudly shouts it every chance he gets. But you? You¡¯re smart, Willem. People walk in fear of you, just like they do father. You¡¯re a better swordsman than he was at your age. Me? I¡¯m younger than you¡ªI¡¯m no obstacle.¡± He held his arms out. ¡°You see it, right? The possibilities.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re no obstacle, why are you chatting instead of watching me confirm the damn contract?¡± Willem walked forward, shaking his head. ¡°Honestly, you people¡­¡±


    ¡°All I¡¯m saying is, I¡¯m on your side,¡± Hans insisted. ¡°Whatever comes.¡±


    Willem tapped the magistrate¡¯s desk to get her attention, and she popped her ears back into her head. ¡°All done?¡±


    ¡°All done,¡± Willem confirmed. ¡°Ready to confirm the disinheritance.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Yeah, I watched him do it.¡± Hans played with the armrest of the chair he sat in, Lennard across from him with a metal goblet. ¡°First, though, I baited him. Tried to act like I was on his side, so that maybe he¡¯d tell me his plans. But it was all nonsense. Like I said, I¡¯m your side, Lennard.¡±


    Lennard drank some of the wine. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Hans insisted, releasing the ponytail on his head so his hair splayed out. ¡°People walk in fear of you, just like they do father. You¡¯re better than he was at your age. Me? I¡¯m younger than you. I¡¯m no¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, he really did it? No words, no theatrics?¡± Lennard cut a hand through the air. ¡°Just like that? Disinherited?¡±


    Hans popped his knuckles. ¡°Yep. The magistrate has the papers.¡±


    ¡°What in the name of the goddess is he doing?¡± Lennard swirled his wine, staring into it. ¡°Is Avaria coming? Does he know something we don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Avaria¡¯s been quiet after dad¡¯s Grand Crusade. They don¡¯t have the slaves to fight us, not anymore.¡± Hans shrugged. ¡°Even with dad down, they couldn¡¯t break the border. A civil war might do it¡­ and Willem is leaving. Maybe he¡¯ll get someone else to help him.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s going to Gent,¡± Lennard said in disbelief. ¡°House van der Duyn¡¯s military is just terrible. Count Ventura died to a griffon¡ªcan you even believe that?¡±


    ¡°Their aura¡¯s weak. No martial background, either. Maybe Willem intends to offer his services.¡± Hans shrugged. ¡°Still, if you¡¯re worried about trouble¡­ maybe I could stop him from taking the agreed payment.¡±


    ¡°No. Absolutely not,¡± Lennard set his goblet down forcefully, and wine splashed over. ¡°If you make an agreement, you keep it. He gets his coin. That document he signed makes any claim he has to anything in House van Brugh worthless.¡±


    ¡°It is a lot of coin¡­¡± Hans said tactfully. ¡°Mother helped saved that over many years.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever seen father cheat someone?¡± Lennard looked over. ¡°Ever seen him go back on his word?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen him get cheated plenty,¡± Hans pointed out.


    ¡°And he endured, overcame.¡± Lennard drank wine. ¡°Willem¡¯s a demon. A beast. A brute. Paying him that much to go away? It¡¯s a fine deal. Just a fine deal.¡±

 5: Geriatric Renaissance

    ¡°Is this really gold? It¡¯s so light¡­¡± Willem marveled as he hefted the chest.


    Dirk stared with some degree of annoyance as Willem demonstrated the tremendous strength that one who was versed in the use of aura could exercise. He¡¯d been paid for six months of service, and serve he would, but he wasn¡¯t particularly eager to see what service under this eccentric noble entailed. But Dirk¡¯s family was eating well off the money he¡¯d made, so he couldn¡¯t complain.


    ¡°It¡¯s gold, young lord,¡± Dirk confirmed. ¡°There¡¯s no doubt.¡±


    ¡°Drop the formalities. Just call me Willem, now.¡± Willem fit the box into the carriage, then shut the trunk. He looked around at his armed escort. ¡°I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s gone so easily. I expected a little resistance, frankly, a little bartering. I should¡¯ve named a higher price. Should¡¯ve done more research. Still, it¡¯s a fine deal. Just a fine deal. Crisis averted.¡± He beckoned. ¡°Let¡¯s see this enchanted carriage.¡±


    Willem clambered into the carriage. It expanded into a vast open space¡ªa full bedroom, replete with a table for eating and a bed for sleeping¡ªand he looked around in awe. ¡°It really is magic.¡±


    ¡°Have you never been inside an enchanted carriage?¡± Dirk asked skeptically. ¡°If you really liked business so much, you¡¯d know this is one of the best-selling services of the mages. They rent these out.¡±


    ¡°People always pay highly for luxury transportation. Sounds like quite the nightmare to manage. Maintenance, retrieval, theft¡­ forget that.¡± Willem walked to one of the chairs, testing it. ¡°There¡¯s something you have to consider, Dirk. Some businesses, you make a lot of money, but you have to work very hard. Some businesses, you don¡¯t work very hard, but you don¡¯t make a lot of money.¡± He sat down the chair boldly. ¡°The perfect business is one where you sit on your ass all day and people throw cash at you like they can¡¯t wait to get rid of it.¡±


    Dirk signaled the driver to begin moving, then entered inside. ¡°And that¡¯s the insurance business you spoke of?¡±


    ¡°Insurance is the stepping stone.¡± He gestured. ¡°Sit.¡±


    Dirk obeyed. ¡°Why are we going to Gent?¡±


    ¡°Gent, with a hard G? I thought it was pronounced like gentleman.¡± Willem scratched his throat. ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple. It¡¯s a decent-sized city away from any hostile bordering nations. It has a thriving port. It was described as a beautiful place in multiple accounts, which I suspect means it has some wealthy clientele. And you told me Baron Tielman¡¯s daughter is the countess there. Do you know her full name?¡±


    ¡°Catharina van der Duyn,¡± Dirk recalled, having studied the family before coming to serve here.


    ¡°Yeah, that mouthful. I¡¯m going to see if she can help me access census records. Insurance needs good data.¡± Willem crossed his legs. ¡°I intend to start my first business there, if it¡¯s a suitable location.¡±


    Dirk didn¡¯t know how far he could push his questions. Despite his rudeness, Willem hadn¡¯t ever reprimanded him in the traditional sense of the word. He decided to push his luck.


    ¡°What do you actually intend to do with your business?¡±


    ¡°Mm. My favorite subject. You¡¯ll be working there, so I suppose I¡¯ll tell you.¡± Willem looked around. ¡°Biggest problem in insurance besides paying out claims is fraud. You insure a house¡ªsomebody overstates the house¡¯s value, burns it down. You insure a boat, the sucker ¡®sinks.¡¯ I imagine if I insured an enchanted carriage, some mage would cast a spell of invisibility and say it was stolen. Can they do that?¡±


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Dirk nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to read more about magic. I regret ignoring that King of the Rings series people raved about.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°To prevent fraud, you need proper research, laborers, manhours¡­ all of which cost money. I intend on founding something that¡¯s difficult to defraud to save me said money. Care to guess?¡±


    ¡°Property would be the safest, I should think,¡± Dirk guessed. ¡°Hard to hide, nonsensical to destroy.¡±


    Willem smiled. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than your vacant expression lets on. Property insurance was a consideration, but not my first. I¡¯m going to insure life.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Life?¡±


    ¡°Yes indeed. I¡¯m thinking of calling it the Society of Assured Prosperity¡ªSAP, if you want to shorten it. I intend to market it toward merchant households in particular¡ªan underserved demographic. When the person the policy is insuring perishes, the society will take care of the burial and any surviving dependents according to their preconceived instructions. It¡¯ll put the minds of people at ease, knowing their spouse or their children will be taken care of after their passing.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be easy to avoid taxes when we have such a benevolent goal,¡± Willem continued. ¡°The payouts will be distributed in installments instead of lump sums, lessening the burden of claims. If I can, I hope to employ the society itself as free labor by planting the notion they should take care of their fellow members. As for fraud¡­ well, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll have too many problems. Maybe a murder or two.¡±


    Dirk felt a chill as Willem outlined his business so concisely. He didn¡¯t need to be told more to know that this notion would sell. Dirk himself might consider paying for such a thing for his siblings, and that scared him most of all.


    ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll get benevolent endowments.¡± Willem shrugged. ¡°Maybe the local government will chip in. I won¡¯t count on it.¡±


    ¡°But what you talked about earlier¡­ you¡¯d really lend out the money that people give you for helping their surviving relatives?¡± Dirk asked incredulously.


    Willem narrowed his eyes. ¡°Are you insane? Of course. I¡¯ll make that very clear to everyone that joins, too. It¡¯s not as though I intend to trick people.¡± He leaned in. ¡°Would you prefer I keep it in a big chest in a vault, only taking what I need when I need it? It wouldn¡¯t last. Let me tell you something, Dirk.¡± He produced a gold coin. ¡°These coins were created. More of them can be created. The more of them are, the less each is worth. Every coin we hide away, hoarding, is one that¡¯s removed from the market. I won¡¯t have that. With proper cash flow, economies flourish, and everyone lives better.¡±


    Willem flicked the coin, and Dirk caught it. ¡°Cash is trash. Every second, its value is being inflated away. A smart man invests his cash to promote commerce and help businesses grow. And all he expects in return for the risk that entails? A little profit. It¡¯s not so much to ask.¡±


    Dirk studied the coin. He¡¯d thought Willem a na?ve young lord, not properly understanding the things he was suggesting¡­ but now, Dirk wasn¡¯t so certain this wasn¡¯t going to be possible.


    ***


    It was a joyous day in the Brugh estate for the maids.


    They walked with happy heads, singing light tunes and speaking in easy tones to one another. In less than a week, they had lost two tyrants. First, Baron Tielman, who had demanded absolute perfection from each and every one of them, had fallen. After, young lord Willem, who was notoriously and unnecessarily cruel to all those he crossed paths with, had departed after renouncing his right to any inheritance, likely never to return.


    One such maid opened the door to the baron¡¯s bedroom, happily humming as she dusted. The first few days, it had been a bit scary being so close to the sleeping baron. But after many days of doing this, he¡¯d not stirred once¡ªshe was even bold enough to whistle, sing, and hum. She dusted the windowsills, the drawers, the bedframe¡­


    Until she realized cold blue eyes were peering at her. With a gasp, she froze.


    ¡°Fetch¡­ my majordomo,¡± Baron Tielman said, voice a thin whip.


    ***


    Baron Tielman sat up in his bed. Even breathing was a little difficult for him right now, but it was better than the alternative. The healer examined him.


    ¡°It seems like the worst of the poison has left his system,¡± the man declared, the white magic shining on his fingertips fading away. ¡°It¡¯ll take some time for it to be fully purged. In the meantime, you¡¯ll need to refrain from exercising your aura, elsewise it might excite the Clatgrass and send you back to bed.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Tielman flexed his hand. He looked up at his eldest son. ¡°What happened in my absence?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­¡± Lennard swallowed. ¡°I¡¯ve detained the kitchen staff that was working that day, and I¡¯ve had knights extensively questioning any and all who might¡¯ve witnessed anything.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    Lennard lowered his head. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. As expected.¡± Tielman rubbed his throat. ¡°Is Willem alright?¡±


    Lennard went silent.


    ¡°Answer me,¡± Tielman said firmly. ¡°Hold nothing back.¡±


    ¡°Willem wasn¡¯t poisoned,¡± Lennard confirmed.


    ¡°Good.¡± Tielman gestured. ¡°Send him to me.¡±


    When Lennard went silent once again, the majordomo answered, ¡°Willem left, baron.¡±


    Tielman narrowed his eyes. ¡°He went through with what we¡¯d discussed? He left for the capital?¡± The baron looked between the silent pair. ¡°Speak!¡±


    ¡°Willem¡­¡± Lennard took a deep breath. ¡°He disinherited himself, father.¡±

 6: Its No Wall Street

    After a week¡¯s travel, they arrived at the city of Gent at midday. Willem sat by the window of the enchanted carriage, watching the city come closer into view. It had solid twenty-foot-tall walls of beige stone. It reminded him of his visit to Spain. More specifically, it reminded him of his tour of the Aljafer¨ªa Palace and Alhambra. Its gates had those distinctive horseshoe-like arches he¡¯d seen in Moorish architecture on the Iberian Peninsula.


    ¡°Does this place have proper sewage?¡± he wondered, casting a glance at Dirk.


    ¡°Mostly.¡± Dirk nodded. ¡°And running water, too. But Gent doesn¡¯t have the closest ties to the mages. You can¡¯t expect the same luxury you¡¯d find in the capital.¡±


    ¡°Sewage isn¡¯t magic. Low engineering standards¡­ another opportunity, maybe¡­¡± Willem mumbled as he stood and walked to the other side of the spacious enchanted carriage, peering out at the side that could see the ocean. He was pleased to see no less than seven ships coming and going. ¡°Have you been here before, Dirk?¡± Willem sat, watching the ships.


    ¡°I stayed here for some days. Why?¡± Dirk stood behind him politely.


    ¡°Is it always this busy? The ports, I mean.¡±


    Dirk ducked low to look out, then nodded in confirmation. ¡°Yes, in this season. If they aren¡¯t, the capital will starve. Most of those are grain ships owned by the crown, hauling food from the fertile Grae Isle. They¡¯re delivered here, then carried by barge or caravan upriver to the capital.¡±


    Willem said nothing, calculating and evaluating. The foundation of the business was the most important part. Proper location could earn him millions more than an improper one. A spot by the port? A spot in the noble quarters, near the count¡¯s estate? It was all a matter of value extracted from the land. Mistakes made at this junction could turn even the best business models into dirt.


    He¡¯d need to think hard, plan harder.


    ***


    Dirk watched Willem uneasily. During the whole journey he¡¯d been somewhat chatty. He was either reading or talking about business¡ªon that subject, Dirk could make him ramble for hours. Perhaps rambling was the wrong word, because it all had some sound theory to it. Or at the very least, Willem was a good orator.


    Still, his prolonged silence brought concern, so Dirk asked, ¡°Is something¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just shut up and deal with the customs office.¡± Willem waved at him.


    Commanded so blatantly, Dirk obeyed. He diligently handled things on his end, including the check with the guards. He flashed the van Brugh sigil, told them who was inside, and they were let in without a fuss. Once they were inside the walls, Willem¡¯s mood didn¡¯t abate. He lifted the chest of gold out of the carriage, and then left the guards and carriage both without a word as he advanced into the city. Dirk could only follow.


    Willem watched the comings and goings of the city, standing off to the side of the street for a long time. It was like he was evaluating everyone that he saw. His blatant and unflinching stare frightened some, but no one confronted him. Dirk stood around, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s happened yet?¡± Willem asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± Dirk sought more information, but he was pleased Willem had finally spoken again.


    ¡°Do you think the guards have told the count I¡¯m here?¡± He looked at Dirk. ¡°If it were me, I¡¯d make sure my people told me if my wife¡¯s brother was visiting. Am I wrong?¡±


    Dirk honestly hadn¡¯t considered the notion, but it made sense. ¡°Time enough has passed, certainly.¡±


    ¡°There are a great many power plays in business. I don¡¯t like them especially, but they have a place. You have to get used to them, especially when you¡¯re the weaker side at the bargaining table.¡± Willem hefted the chest he held, and Dirk looked around to make sure no one heard the sound of ringing coin.


    Dirk studied Willem peculiarly. ¡°What does that have to do with what you said?¡±


    ¡°I get the impression no one likes me,¡± Willem said.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Dirk trailed off.


    Willem looked. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Dirk. You can admit what you think.¡±


    Emboldened, Dirk dared to say, ¡°I haven¡¯t heard good things about you.¡±


    Willem narrowed his eyes. ¡°I was prompting you to admit that you- liked me. Your starting salary is going down and down the more you run your mouth¡­¡±


    Dirk said nothing, but he was glad he took payment up front for this job.


    ¡°If even you, who¡¯s been amply exposed to my overflowing charm, don¡¯t gush admiration¡­ I can¡¯t imagine Catharina likes me, either. If I visit, she¡¯d make sure to display her authority. Maybe she¡¯d make us wait. Maybe she¡¯d refuse us all together with some vague excuses.¡± He looked at Dirk. ¡°Either way, she¡¯ll want to demonstrate the security she has in her position, so we don¡¯t think we can walk all over her for favors.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t speak to that,¡± Dirk said neutrally, but he was inwardly surprised at Willem¡¯s sharp instincts.


    ¡°I do need to visit her. But I¡¯m not going to.¡±


    Dirk blinked. ¡°It¡¯s common courtesy for nobles to pay tribute to the lord whose territory it is they¡¯re visiting.¡±


    ¡°Seems reasonable. But I have some excuse not to, considering recent events. I¡¯ve surrendered my noble obligations. Instead, let¡¯s start scouting the city out.¡± He looked around ponderously. ¡°What are the chances I get robbed here, you think?¡±


    Dirk felt a festering nugget of panic when Willem asked that, but he calmed down as he was reminded of something. ¡°You¡¯re an aura user. No one here stands a chance against you.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He looked over. ¡°I¡¯m strictly non-violent. It¡¯s the lowest form of competition.¡±


    Dirk took it as a joke. Willem set off walking into the city without waiting for an answer, hauling around a literal fortune in gold coins. It certainly didn¡¯t appear like he was heading to the count¡¯s estate.


    ***


    Tielman stared at the piece of paper with his son¡¯s signature on it. Even sick as he was, seeing this almost gave him the energy to throw off the blanket and get out of bed.


    ¡°We have to dispute this.¡± The baron looked at his majordomo.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ difficult, baron,¡± the man said.


    ¡°Difficult.¡± He tossed the paper aside. ¡°It certainly wasn¡¯t difficult for you to conspire with my son.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°I served at his leisure. He was utterly committed to seeing this through¡ªmy intervention would¡¯ve only delayed the inevitable,¡± the man justified urgently.


    Tielman shook his head. ¡°Tell me, then. Why is it difficult?¡±


    ¡°Young lord Lennard involved the regional magistrate in the verification process in an effort to make disputing the matter be very¡­ painful.¡± The majordomo dipped his head. ¡°To refute it would be to insult the Royal Cabinet.¡±


    ¡°And to insult the Cabinet would have repercussions,¡± Tielman finished, then scratched at his chin. ¡°Lennard is insecure and cowardly, but at least he schemes thoroughly.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s far more pertinent to discuss what the young lord Willem took with him,¡± the majordomo said.


    ¡°My son is gone,¡± Tileman said sharply. ¡°What could be worse?¡±


    ¡°Young lord Lennard paid him off with the majority of the war chest,¡± the majordomo blurted out all at once.


    Tielman looked away from the majordomo, staring ahead with a blank face. ¡°The war chest took ten years to build to what it was. My wife worked very hard to bring the barony enough prosperity we could actually build savings. It could¡¯ve paid all expenses in the barony for a year.¡±


    ¡°It¡­ it could have,¡± the majordomo confirmed.


    Tielman looked over. ¡°In the brief time I was incapable, my most talented son was disinherited, and you allowed the entire war chest to be handed off. Does that about summarize your contribution in facilitating the transfer of power?¡±


    The majordomo looked down at the ground, paralyzed before the baron. Tielman pulled off his blanket, then rose to his feet. Though weak himself, he appeared strong before the trembling administrator.


    ¡°I could have you executed for treason. No one would bat an eye. I could leave your children fatherless, and your wife a widow,¡± the baron said evenly.


    ¡°¡­mercy,¡± the man barely managed.


    ¡°If you want mercy, you have to earn it.¡± Tielman nearly fell, but he placed his hand upon the man¡¯s shoulder, lurking threateningly. ¡°Go to Lennard. Tell him if I see him again before Willem returns to this family, restored of his inheritance, he won¡¯t need to worry about succession ever again.¡±


    ¡°Of course, baron. Of course,¡± the man muttered quickly and sheepishly.


    ¡°I suggest you ¡®help¡¯ him as you ¡®helped¡¯ these past few days.¡± He drew close to his ear. ¡°If you don¡¯t prove you can rebuild this barony as well as you can destroy it, your death won¡¯t be quick. But you¡¯re still alive, and you have some chances. Now, I suggest you start running if you want to stay that way.¡±


    The majordomo bolted out of the room, and Tielman put his hand up against the wall to stop himself from falling over. He took a few moments to gather himself, then threw on the robes that had been set on his bedside. He walked to the door and opened it.


    ¡°Do you enjoy listening in?¡± Tielman asked his son, Hans.


    ¡°Just taking notes on how you make use of people.¡± Hans studied him cautiously. ¡°Are we going to talk about the poisoning? I mean¡­ you survived, yet¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad it happened.¡±


    Hans laughed disbelievingly. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Mere days I was absent, and the van Brugh family withered.¡± Tielman leaned against the doorframe, peering throughout the hall. ¡°I intend to make some changes.¡±


    Hans looked a little eager, but he had the intelligence not to say anything overtly. ¡°Who do you think was responsible?¡± He waited for a bit, but Tielman didn¡¯t answer. ¡°I mean, of everyone¡­ Willem benefitted¡ª¡±


    ¡°My son did not poison me,¡± Tielman said firmly.


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± Hans nodded, unafraid. ¡°But¡­ what if he did?¡±


    ¡°I looked into his eyes as I ate that meal.¡± He looked at Hans. ¡°I looked into his soul. Willem did not poison me.¡±


    Hans scoffed. ¡°Are you sure the poison¡¯s not messing with your head?¡±


    The baron looked on his son. ¡°I may have been too soft on you, Hans.¡±


    Hans crossed his arms uncertainly.


    ¡°Go on,¡± Tielman insisted. ¡°Tell me a joke.¡±


    ¡°Dad?¡±


    Tielman walked up to him, staring him down. ¡°Say something funny.¡±


    Hans swallowed, unable to meet his father¡¯s gaze.


    Disappointed, Tielman backed away. ¡°The van Brugh family is rotten. I lack the stomach to toss it aside completely, but I do intend to cut away the decay. I¡¯ll salvage only what I can. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°¡­yes, father.¡±


    ¡°Then perhaps you ought to be thinking of what can be done to help¡­ and then doing it.¡±


    Hans turned and walked away much the same way the majordomo had.


    Once he had disappeared elsewhere, Tielman showed weakness, leaning up against the wall. Disinheritance¡­ Tielman could think only of his brother, living far away from here. His brother had said that children growing up motherless was detrimental to their outcome. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he never should¡¯ve agreed to the divorce. Tielman was a warrior and a ruler¡ªin these things, he had complete confidence. Yet his children? They were beyond him.


    Tielman would focus on the question Hans had asked¡ªwho was responsible for the poisoning. He could think of several people who benefitted from his death. He would be sure to extract that information, even if he needed to take apart every stone of this castle. These were things he intimately understood. As for his household¡­


    Perhaps it was time to bow his head and ask for a favor. Perhaps it was time to have Willem¡¯s mother visit him. Hans would be best suited for speaking to Viviene. The last Tielman had heard, she was living at a vineyard owned by her family. To put it lightly, they hadn¡¯t parted on good terms. Their marriage had been mandated by the king, and it had been a painful separation that rocked the family.


    Tielman sighed. Asking her this favor might finish the job where poison had failed.


    ***


    Willem, true to his word, wandered around the city with the van Brugh family¡¯s collected fortune in his hands. Dirk seemed far more paranoid than the former young lord ever was. He only travelled the more reputable parts of the city, retaining that same somber attitude as he evaluated the whole city. Often he¡¯d stop inside establishments, and though he ate his food, he was intimately focused on what everyone else was saying. He didn¡¯t spare a single word for Dirk.


    They travelled from establishment to establishment¡ªbanks, shipping depots, and all kinds of stores. Willem listened intently, asked a few questions, and then moved on without doing much of anything. He never even came near the count¡¯s estate. Near the end of the day, Willem sat atop the chest he¡¯d been hauling as he sat by a fountain in a public square.


    ¡°What was the purpose of today?¡± Dirk wondered.


    ¡°Foundational information gathering.¡± Willem drank something he¡¯d bought earlier. ¡°Seeing if this place is worth doing business in.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Could work. There¡¯s a clientele that has a lot of luxury spending. Everything else depends on whether or not this place proves to be a business-friendly climate. Considering the success of others¡­ must be something. But something isn¡¯t everything, son. There don¡¯t appear to be many sources of credit, and good property seems more exclusive than I¡¯d hoped. Exclusive means expensive. Expensive is bad.¡±


    Dirk looked at Willem, hundreds of questions brewing. Before he could ask them, someone came up to them.


    ¡°Young lord Willem van Brugh?¡± A soldier stood before him.


    Willem looked up. ¡°They tell me that¡¯s my name, yes.¡±


    ¡°The countess has requested your presence immediately.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Willem rose. ¡°Alright. Wonderful. I¡¯ll head there immediately.¡±


    The man saluted. ¡°I shall bring word.¡±


    Willem watched the man walk away, then looked at Dirk. ¡°This is a big moment, Dirk.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Dirk looked at him.


    ¡°I intend to do two things in this meeting. One¡ªaccess census records. Two¡ªget business permits.¡±


    Dirk followed, but something nagged at him. ¡°Aren¡¯t you eager to speak to your sister again?¡±


    Willem looked away. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what she looks like.¡± He picked up the chest. ¡°Let¡¯s find out, shall we?¡±


    Dirk was unsure if Willem was a terrible brother or a tragic figure. But he¡¯d been paid to do a job, and he¡¯d see it through to the end. He followed after Willem.

 7: The Limitless Machinations of the Spider-Demon-Woman

    ¡°The countess will see you now,¡± the male attendant said, bowing fluidly and perfectly.


    Willem was jealous of this attendant. It made the small package that was Dirk seem somewhat lackluster by comparison. The only thing Dirk had going for him was inquisitiveness and a little brightness. But beyond the attendant, everything here was quite nice¡ªthey¡¯d passed through a grand courtyard, and the halls made this place match up with the Renaissance palaces of old that Willem had visited in his last lifetime.


    Willem followed the attendant into a drawing room. The man bowed again, gesturing inside. Willem entered, looking around, and spotted a small old woman with wholly gray hair dressed in bold green sitting on the center of the couch. He looked back at the attendant, but the man was already closing the door. He cast a look at Dirk, then regarded the old woman.


    Willem gestured toward her with the chest of gold in his hands. ¡°You look a bit too old to be my sister.¡±


    She snapped her wrist, and a peacock feather fan sprung open.


    ***


    Dowager Countess Anne Claire van der Duyn stared upon this man, Willem, with a bad impression of him right out of the gate. Apparently, he¡¯d gone around shopping with his male attendant all day, completely ignoring proper etiquette for a noble to visit the reigning house of the territory he passed through. Now, he began the conversation with those impertinent words.


    When news came that one of Catharina¡¯s brothers was in the city, she knew she had to intervene. Anne Claire didn¡¯t know how, but that dingy, rainy territory of House van Brugh at the border of the kingdom had produced a precious little blue-eyed cherub. Despite being the daughter of the brutish Shield of the North, Catharina was sweet as an angel, pretty as a pumpkin, and entirely too na?ve to meet those evil brothers of hers unprotected. The stories Catharina told about those heinous villains¡­ they were scum. Hence, Anne Claire played a little trick. She had ¡®the countess¡¯ summon Willem.


    ¡°I am Dowager Countess Anne Claire, widow to my husband, the late Count Ventura.¡± Anne Claire fanned herself. ¡°I hope you had fun roaming our city. Did you enjoy yourself in the Pearl?¡± She referenced a restaurant he¡¯d visited, subtly implying she knew everywhere he¡¯d been.


    ¡°Ah. The mother-in-law.¡± Willem walked deeper into the room. ¡°Sure, the clam there was good.¡±


    Anne Claire didn¡¯t comment, but the clam was also her favorite.


    Willem hefted the chest he held, pointing it. ¡°May I sit down?¡±


    He had tact enough to ask, Anne Claire noted. ¡°You may.¡±


    After setting the chest down, Willem took his seat. ¡°I¡¯m Willem, and that¡¯s Dirk. It¡¯s nice to meet you, miss.¡±


    Miss? Anne Claire fanned herself a little faster. It had been decades since she¡¯d last been called that. ¡°What brings you to Gent?¡± she asked bluntly.


    ¡°If I can find something that has good value, I intend to buy a home,¡± Willem stated just as bluntly as she¡¯d asked.


    Anne Claire felt some small threat. If he intended to buy a home, it meant he had deeper plans. He intended to latch onto Catharina, like a parasite, surely.


    She asked sharply, ¡°And what do you intend to do in Gent?¡±


    ¡°That depends largely on you and your family.¡± Willem entwined his hands. ¡°It could be you give me a kick in the rear and toss me to the curb, miss. But to get, you¡¯ve gotta ask.¡±


    Anne Claire said nothing. Willem was apparently a talented aura user¡ªeven so, it appeared he had some humility, admitting the power rested with them. He¡¯d earned a few points saying that.


    Anne Claire snapped her fan closed. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    He stared into her eyes. ¡°If possible, I¡¯d like to get a charter or a permit¡ªwhichever¡¯s needed¡ªfor a mutual aid society.¡±


    Hearing the words ¡®charter¡¯ and ¡®permit,¡¯ she reevaluated this fellow. He looked like the typical sword-swinging dullard common from the van Brugh family, but she¡¯d heard those words from ¡®businessmen¡¯ that had come to her husband, seeking his wealth. The phrase ¡®mutual aid society¡¯ brought her pause.


    ¡°Dirk, would you please?¡± He looked over at his attendant. As Anne Claire marveled that he used the word ¡®please¡¯ for an attendant, the man in question placed a stack of papers before her. ¡°I¡¯ve written down all the details of what it is there, but I¡¯d like to tell you what it is directly, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Anne Claire leaned forward and took the paper. The document was rather dense, written in neat script. She set it down a few moments after. ¡°I have time to listen.¡±


    Willem stared for three seconds before he said, ¡°You said you outlived your husband. Am I correct, miss?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He died in a monster-subjugation expedition, dealing with a griffon that¡¯d taken nest in nearby mountains.¡± Anne Claire narrowed her eyes. Would he belittle her husband¡¯s failure? ¡°I fail to see how that¡¯s relevant.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the crux of the mutual aid society I intend to create.¡± Willem leaned in. ¡°Death is inevitable. Sometimes it comes very suddenly, and those around the person are unprepared or unsupported just after. With my Society of Assured Prosperity, its members would ensure that, should someone die, they¡¯ll be looked after by the society¡¯s members, financially and otherwise.¡±


    Anne Claire opened her fan and covered her mouth to hide her reaction. It all sounded rather noble, and she considered briefly if she¡¯d misjudged him. But those businessmen that had come for her husband¡¯s wealth sounded similarly noble, only to be charlatans of the highest magnitude.


    ¡°How would your society help them?¡± she asked simply.


    ¡°That¡¯s up to the members,¡± Willem said. ¡°Each society member would be responsible for disclosing their plans for their children, their spouse, or even simply their friends after they pass away. The society members who survive someone that perishes would then fulfill those plans to the best of their ability.¡±


    The pragmatic in Anne Claire was a little moved¡ªto have a close-knit group of people to help her family after she passed was something she wanted, even now. The communal aspect would force others to work hard on their behalf, as they would hope to receive the same return after their parting.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°You mentioned they¡¯d be looked after financially,¡± she said, diving to the important part. Most only saw their in-laws as a bank to withdraw money from. He mentioned a charter, but could he be here to beg for an endowment?


    ¡°Yes.¡± Willem nodded calmly. ¡°Society members pay an annual fee. That money goes into a pool, to be drawn upon and paid out to cover expenses when one of its members passes. As the society¡¯s treasurer, I would manage that money.¡±


    Anne Claire snapped her fan shut. ¡°It would be your money.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s the society¡¯s money. I have no ownership of any of it¡ªthe details are in that document. Everything my role as treasurer would entail, and the permissions I would have, are written out. I would take two percent of the net asset value of the society.¡±


    ¡°Two percent?¡± she repeated.


    ¡°Yes, miss.¡± Willem nodded. ¡°Two percent. If there was one hundred gold in the pool, I would take two gold home a year.¡±


    Anne Claire went silent, trying to think of some way that he might be able to weasel out some extra money from the society for himself. She snatched the documents from the table between them. This time, she actually dived into the reading. It outlined the model of the society simply enough she could understand it without having to ask questions, and thoroughly enough there seemed to be little wiggle room.


    Finally, she came to the page he¡¯d mentioned, detailing his role as treasurer. It explained he would lend out some of the money to credible people¡ªmost notably, society members themselves¡ªto facilitate commerce, and help pay for expenses. It was just as he said. The treasurer¡¯s pay would consist of two percent of net asset value. ¡®Net asset value¡¯ was described in clear terms, and she could find no loopholes he might exploit.


    ¡°Hold on a moment,¡± she said. ¡°This says the treasurer has personal liability for losses.¡±


    Willem nodded. ¡°It does.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ how could you¡­ how large do you plan for this society to be? Lost loans could¡­¡± she caught herself. ¡°Do you know the punishment for personal bankruptcy, Willem?¡±


    ¡°Indentured servitude. Right, Dirk?¡± He looked at his attendant, and the man nodded. ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±


    ¡°This clause places you in considerable risk,¡± she said.


    Willem smiled. ¡°One should be willing to put themselves on the line if they¡¯re confident in their ability. I ask a lot, so I give a lot, miss.¡±


    ¡°You mentioned that your clientele is intended to be wealthier people.¡± Anne Claire flipped back to the first page, then fingered that point. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, one bad loan might end with you in indentured servitude, young man.¡±


    Willem nodded. ¡°I understand your concern. If the treasurer goes under, it could have an adverse effect on the members.¡± He pursed his lips, thinking deeply. ¡°Miss, I¡¯d like to let you know some personal circumstances, if that¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± she nodded.


    ¡°Baron Tielman was poisoned recently,¡± he said, shocking Anne Claire. His father had died? ¡°I reached an agreement with Lennard van Brugh, who became baron regent after that incident. In return for my disinheritance, he paid me a sizable sum of money. Dirk? Please, show miss Anne Claire.¡±


    The male attendant walked to the chest Willem had been hauling around, opening it up. Anne Claire was shocked to see it brimming with gold coins, and looked at Willem with wide eyes.


    ¡°I have sufficient personal funds to cover sizable losses. I also intend on living rather frugally.¡± Willem shrugged. ¡°I hope that alleviates some of your concerns, miss.¡±


    The countess stared at Willem silently. The reason why he was doing this clicked into place in her head. After his father was poisoned, his brother immediately moved to suppress him. He forced him out of the family¡ªan illegal thing when done by a regent, and unusual for any legitimate successor. Illegal didn¡¯t mean it couldn¡¯t happen. Mages and their lie detecting spells could be fooled. Perhaps the payment had facilitated that, somehow.


    After being cruelly suppressed by his older brother, Willem didn¡¯t show an ounce of outrage. Instead, he came here, naively wandering around the city with a huge chest of gold. His first thoughts weren¡¯t to correct what had been done, or to seek revenge¡­ but help others like himself, who experienced the death of a parent.  And his attendant¡­ the man looked small, weak, and starved. He looked like he¡¯d been bullied. Perhaps it was his only friend in that house of demons. Willem must¡¯ve brought him along to save him from the terrible van Brugh family.


    Anne Claire reached forth and grabbed her bell, ringing it. ¡°Walter? Walter!¡± she shouted. The man entered hastily. ¡°Fetch me ink and quill, alongside paper, immediately.¡± When Walter left, she looked back at Willem. ¡°We¡¯re making alterations.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Willem tilted his head.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need this ¡®personal liability¡¯ nonsense.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m going to get rid of it right away. Indentured servitude is inhumane, young man, and you¡¯re far too talented to even think of going anywhere near it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very considerate. Very trusting,¡± Willem said with a smile.


    Seeing his politeness, his humility, she felt the urge to praise him. She asked quickly, ¡°How potent is your aura?¡±


    Willem shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, miss.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be too humble, young man. Little Catharina says you were the most talented in the family!¡±  She pointed with her fan. ¡°Lennard sounds like a parochial, insecure coward. As for your compensation¡­ two percent of assets? Truly?¡±


    Willem nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a reasonable amount.¡±


    ¡°Yet it¡¯s forever. Are you sure you can¡¯t think of something higher?¡± She levelled her fan at him.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Willem stroked his chin. ¡°How about this? I¡¯d be comfortable taking twenty percent of any profits beyond ten percent.¡±


    Anne Claire looked at him. He must¡¯ve named such a high figure as ten percent to avoid taking any money away from the society. It looked as though, just like Catharina, there was a saint in the van Brugh family. There was another she would need to play mother bear for, protecting from the cruel reality of the world.


    ¡°Does that mean you intend to give the permits?¡± Willem asked cautiously.


    ¡°Of course!¡± Anne Claire said snappily. ¡°A simple charter is no trouble at all for my daughter-in-law¡¯s brother. You can ask for anything.¡±


    ¡°Really? Well¡­ do you think I could access census records for the city?¡±


    ¡°On one condition.¡± She slapped her closed fan against her palm. ¡°Stay for breakfast, Willem.¡±


    ¡°Is that a proposition, miss?¡± Willem raised a brow.


    ¡°Cheeky!¡± She laughed. ¡°If I were forty years younger, perhaps. I can¡¯t have you walking back out into the streets with that huge chest of gold. That was a foolish move, young man, no matter how strong your sword arm. Walter will prepare a room for you. Walter¡¯s a dear. Walter!¡± she shouted. ¡°Walter, get back in here!¡±


    ***


    ¡°You look irritated, Dirk.¡± Willem sat on the windowsill, looking out at the count¡¯s estate.


    ¡°Me?¡± Dirk tried not to frown. ¡°No. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°That Anne Claire is a shrewd businesswoman. She knows what the Society of Assured Prosperity will do for commerce in the region.¡± He tapped his forehead. ¡°You don¡¯t get that old without gaining a little bit of wisdom. She can see ten steps ahead, just like me.¡±


    Dirk couldn¡¯t avoid frowning. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what happened.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Willem looked away from the window. ¡°With her, it¡¯s strictly business. You saw how guarded she was at the beginning. She didn¡¯t trust me a bit. But once she saw the business plan, she asked some very prudent questions. Once her concerns were quelled, it all melted away into amicability. She even suggested higher compensation to ensure my prosperity was closer linked to the fund¡¯s.¡± He nodded. ¡°She¡¯s someone I can do business with. A calculating, unemotional woman.¡±


    Dirk sighed.

 8: Back In My Day, Houses Were Free

    ¡°This is the place,¡± Anne Claire said, stopping at a black iron gate. She leaned on her cane to peer inside.


    Willem looked beyond the bars, eyes darting around an ostentatious¡ªif unmaintained¡ªthree-story mansion. It had a rather unique color palette, the walls being a pleasant white while the tiled roof was a blue so deep and rich it might be misconstrued for gray. In terms of the real estate they¡¯d seen so far in their tour around the city of Gent, it was certainly one of the most impressive ones. Furthermore, the backyard had a wonderful unobstructed view of the port.


    ¡°Bit large,¡± Willem said at once, gesturing at Dirk. ¡°If you¡¯ve noticed, I only brought this one guy along with me. I don¡¯t intend on hiring more people. Not for homecare, at least.¡±


    ¡°My late husband built this for us,¡± the countess continued, fitting a key into the gate. She fiddled with it a bit before the key took, as the gate was evidently out of use. ¡°He named this estate Diamant. It was intended to be a summer palace. He intended us to enjoy the cooling sea breeze in the hottest months of the year.¡±


    Willem and Dirk followed after her, indulging her story. He expected there to be some point out of all this.


    ¡°We¡¯d some good years inside. When he died, it passed to me.¡± Anne Claire shut the gate behind them, locking it once more. ¡°His brother fought tooth and nail in the courts with me to dispute that. The whole ordeal ruined the funeral, divided the family. My husband was many things, but ¡®prepared¡¯ was not one of them. He never had a will written.¡± She clenched her cane tightly in hand. ¡°After all that fighting to keep it, I didn¡¯t even want to come back here.¡±


    ¡°Such a shame there wasn¡¯t a Society of Assured Prosperity yet,¡± Willem shilled. ¡°We could¡¯ve been the wedge you needed to nag your husband into writing that will.¡±


    Anne Claire laughed with a touch of sadness. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I thought. I was restless come night¡ªkept thinking about what you¡¯d need to make your so-called mutual-aid society a success. And, well¡­ come on.¡±


    Willem and Dirk followed her into the once-grand estate of Diamant. The elaborate yard had mostly died away, leaving only grass and twigs behind. He saw entire sections blocked by fallen trees¡ªperhaps, once, gardens and orchards had risen here. It was still within the city walls, so it couldn¡¯t be too large, but as a personal residence it seemed to have nearly every amenity.


    The building and its granite pathways, however, all stayed intact. That spoke to the quality of their construction. Willem never liked real estate as an investment. It cost a great deal to maintain, and the return was often inferior to other things. On top of all that, it received very poor tax treatment. Perhaps things were different in this place, where landholders generally made all the rules. He¡¯d need to look into it, of course.


    ¡°Diamant had everything our palace back there did.¡± Anne Claire briefly stopped to look at the count¡¯s residence overlooking the city of Gent. ¡°It had a bathhouse with hot water, a ballroom, an archive and library, an art collection, a chapel, and apartments enough to accommodate a hundred guests. And the garden¡­ twenty masters maintained it. It wasn¡¯t quite as decadent and luxurious as the villas in the capital, but it was our own little slice of high society.¡±


    Willem felt his guts turn at the notion of paying twenty gardeners¡ªto hear the capital was worse frightened him.


    ¡°I imagine you¡¯d never accept to live in a place like this,¡± Anne Claire continued. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m proposing. Instead¡­ this way.¡±


    Anne Claire took a side path, heading away from the towering mansion. Instead, she came to a separate building built in the same style, situated right by the outer walls. Willem assumed it might be a guest wing of some sort, but it looked too small for that. The countess opened the door, walking inside.


    ¡°The entrance we came through is convenient if you¡¯re coming from the palace, which we were. But to get supplies, and allow the servants entrance, it¡¯s inconvenient. The servants¡¯ lodgings were built with that in mind.¡±


    Passing by the empty square hall which branched into several separate apartment rooms, Anne Claire led them down a short flight of stairs. As they descended, Willem began to hear faint city noises. When they finally reached the bottom, he was greeted by a large rectangular room. Willem walked to a boarded-up window opposite the stairway, prying back the wood to look out. He was surprised to see that they weren¡¯t very far from the docks¡ªparticularly, they were on a side street right off the dock¡¯s main road.


    ¡°This separated, detached building is where all the supplies used to come in,¡± Anne Claire explained, looking around the place. ¡°The actively needed staff slept upstairs, while a lot of the others lived in the city. Now¡­ I imagine you could renovate this into a perfect place for your mutual aid society. Receive people in the room we¡¯re in now¡­¡± She turned, pointing at a door. ¡°And you could turn that storage closet into an office, or maybe the apartments upstairs. I don¡¯t care, especially.¡±


    Willem walked to the door, switching the lock. He opened it, stepping outside in quiet contemplation. He looked around, surveying all of what was nearby. There were mostly warehouses on the street, alongside some places of business¡­ but all in all, they seemed quite well-maintained. The location seemed relatively upscale, and enough guards patrolled here to discourage any break-ins. The building was on the very start of the street. Above all¡­ it had the connection to the count¡¯s family. That could be invaluable.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± asked Anne Claire as she came out to join him. ¡°I went over your documents again last night. I think this would be a perfect location for the people you intend to attract. I could give this to you today, son, if you agree.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Willem looked around. ¡°If I agreed, I¡¯d want to reach a fair price.¡±


    ¡°A fair price?¡± Anne Claire repeated, looking at him with a frown. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been used in five years. It¡¯s just been sitting empty. You¡¯d be doing me a favor if you stayed here.¡±


    Willem crossed his arms suspiciously. He didn¡¯t like owing others things¡ªhe especially didn¡¯t like the idea of staying someplace he didn¡¯t own outright, which seemed like what she was suggesting. ¡°I don¡¯t think we have the same definition of ¡®favor.¡¯ I¡¯d like to buy my own property.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Very well¡ªallow me to play your card,¡± Anne Claire said, a glint in her eye. ¡°Your mutual aid society. Any profits over ten percent, I also enjoy twenty percent of. In return, you receive full ownership of these lodgings.¡±


    It clicked in Willem¡¯s head¡ªthe incredibly shrewd countess didn¡¯t want a lump sum of payment, but equity in his fund. Long-term, that¡¯d be worth infinitely more than whatever he could pay her now. That she had come with so elaborate a proposal overnight spoke to the depths of her capability. He¡¯d need to keep an eye on her. For now¡­


    ¡°We might scare people off if we skim so much off the top,¡± Willem argued.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. I disagree,¡± she held firm. ¡°Unless you intend to change your terms of compensation¡­ I won¡¯t change mine.¡±


    Willem noted her conviction in his head¡ªhe didn¡¯t think he could negotiate her to go lower. This location did seem quite excellent. Perhaps he could rope the countess into doing more things for the society if she had equity. If she displayed as much business acumen elsewhere, he could use her talent.


    ¡°Give me a week to think, research,¡± Willem said. ¡°Don¡¯t want anyone to get taken advantage of.¡±


    ¡°Fine, very well. Until then, you¡¯re staying here.¡± She produced a key. ¡°I won¡¯t argue.¡±


    Her total confidence said a great deal about the viability of the location, and Willem begrudgingly took the key. Getting a good location might be worth surrendering some equity of his firm. He only hoped that the compensation plan wouldn¡¯t dissuade potential customers.


    ¡°Now, you wanted census records,¡± Anne Claire continued. ¡°The county archives have some, of course, but they¡¯re not as detailed as what you probably need. In cases like this, we have to prevail upon the church. They keep a very detailed accounting of prominent citizen¡¯s accounts. Their records are for the tithes, you see. The servants of our nameless goddess seem to spend more time thinking of gold and silver than the one they claim to worship.¡±


    ¡°So do I. I won¡¯t hold it against them,¡± Willem said distantly, his mind was already wandering to those financial reports. He almost salivated.


    ¡°You¡¯re too charitable for your own good, boy¡­¡± She beckoned him. ¡°My husband was a large donor to the church. So long as I show my face, they should give you what you want right away. I¡¯ll go on ahead¡ªcatch up when you can.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Willem examined what seemed likely to become his new home, weighing the key in his hands as Anne Claire walked away. In short order she was flanked by several servants and guards, who¡¯d been lurking dutifully off to the side.


    ¡°Must be nice,¡± Dirk commented, his lips pursed.


    ¡°Being me? Nothing¡¯s better.¡± He looked at the man. ¡°Or were you talking about something else?¡±


    ¡°Show up somewhere¡­ day one, get the support of the widowed countess, and day two, get a free home by the port with the protection of the count¡¯s family.¡± Dirk shrugged, forcing a smile. ¡°I¡¯m definitely¡­ happy for you.¡±


    ¡°Free?¡± Willem turned around. ¡°Did you say free? That home¡­ if I agree to the deal, she took a humble property and turned it into equity in my business. Over time¡­ she¡¯ll receive a tenfold, hundredfold, thousandfold return on whatever paltry price this building could get.¡± He poked Dirk¡¯s forehead, and the man stepped back in alarm. ¡°You need to take cues from Anne Claire. She¡¯s living proof that the spirit of capitalism and entrepreneurism is alive and well in this world¡ªit just needs a jolt to stimulate it, something to jumpstart the economy.¡±


    ¡°You?¡± Dirk raised a brow.


    ¡°Introducing: Willem, rebranded.¡± He spread his arms wide. ¡°Architect behind the Society of Assured Prosperity, financier for the business ventures of its members, and business consultant for the talented¡ªyet uneducated!¡ªsouls of this woefully underdeveloped system of commerce. I¡¯ll guide them all to wealth unimaginable.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°I can see it. But do you know what I can¡¯t see?¡±


    Dirk swallowed some retorts¡ª ¡®reality,¡¯ ¡®facts,¡¯ ¡®reason.¡¯


    ¡°God. Or a nameless goddess, more specifically.¡± Willem¡¯s blue eyes fixed upon Dirk. ¡°You look like you have a lot to pray about, Dirk. It doesn¡¯t seem like any of your prayers have been answered.¡±


    Dirk¡¯s face scrunched in suspicion. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, just look at you.¡± Willem shook his head wistfully. ¡°Whatever the case, tell me¡­ will Anne Claire get those records I need from the church?¡±


    Dirk brushed past the not-so-subtle jab. ¡°I¡¯ve no clue. All I know is that she¡¯s right¡ªthe late count of the van der Duyn family was a tremendous donor to the church.¡±


    ¡°Right. ¡®Donations,¡¯ from which they expect favors. I find bribery disgusting and immoral, but donations? Don¡¯t even get me started.¡± Willem walked back to the building¡¯s door, locking it up with his key. ¡°I¡¯ve had bad experiences with churches. They¡¯re unfond of money changers in the temple, and I love arbitrage around currency exchange rates. It was always a match made in hell.¡±


    ¡°If things carry on as they are, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll name you a saint by week¡¯s end,¡± Dirk quipped.


    ¡°You¡¯ve jinxed it.¡± Willem turned around. ¡°If I¡¯m excommunicated, your starting pay as my insurance salesman will be lowered further.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be paying you to work, soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Tuition, it¡¯s called,¡± Willem said, brushing past Dirk to follow Anne Claire. ¡°Not a terrible idea.¡±


    ***


    ¡°It was all going quite well, until the very end.¡± Anne Claire fanned her head, clearly irritated. They stood on the docks of Gent, surrounded by a few of the dowager countess¡¯ attendants and guards who stood a respectful distance away from their conversation. ¡°The church¡¯s matriarch wishes for you to submit to a Divulgence.¡±


    ¡°That sounds suspiciously like I¡¯m meant to give something.¡± Willem looked for Dirk for direction.


    ¡°Only words,¡± Dirk explained. ¡°The church collects life¡¯s wisdom first and foremost. In a Divulgence, you¡¯re meant to disclose the lessons that life has taught you.¡±


    ¡°My life lessons? That¡¯ll take days,¡± Willem protested.


    Anne Claire laughed, closing her fan. ¡°It¡¯s mostly just a show, my boy. Walk in, repeat some of the scriptures with different verbiage, then the matriarch sprinkles some praise and sends you on your merry way. I¡¯ve impressed upon them the importance of this venture, so there should be no surprises.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Willem looked out across the docks, where the seagulls harassed some fisherman. ¡°I¡¯m not fond of lying, nor sanctimonious grandstanding.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Dirk said, emulating surprise. ¡°You don¡¯t like flaunting your virtues at every opportunity?¡±


    Anne Claire looked miffed at Dirk¡¯s tone, but Willem parried, ¡°When you¡¯re actually virtuous, you¡¯re just standing, not grandstanding.¡± He thumbed at his nose in consideration, then gave a resigned sigh. ¡°Well¡­ fine. Fine, I¡¯ll do it, but I¡¯m not pleased. Come on, Dirk. Educate me. What am I supposed to believe?¡±

 9: The Heartless Maiden

    ¡°It could get ugly.¡± An orb hummed out a voice, emanating light from atop a dresser. ¡°He¡¯ll be paranoid after the poisoning failed.¡±


    ¡°I have the tendency to make ugly situations end beautifully,¡± responded the woman as she stared into a mirror, tilting her head to view it from different angles.


    To say this woman was beautiful would be understating the point. Bright red curling hair, immaculate pale skin, green eyes that were part mischief but wholly allure¡­ and on top of that, the priestess¡¯ garb she wore strained to make her immodest body appear modest. She looked designed rather than born¡ªand when she brought a finger near her face, finely sculpting what was there, that point was proven.


    ¡°Petronella,¡± the orb said, drawing her back to attention. ¡°He¡¯s the son of the Scourge of the South¡ªthe most talented son, at that. He¡¯s had contact with slaves like you before. He¡¯s intimately familiar with our espionage efforts into the kingdom, because he was a part of them.¡±


    There was the faintest twinge in the woman¡¯s brow at the word ¡®slave,¡¯ and she looked away from the mirror back to the ball.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fear the fruit from a lion I once fought,¡± she said evenly. Her voice was deep for a woman, yet rich and smooth as honey.


    ¡°But you¡¯re not here to fight¡ªyou¡¯re here for reconnaissance,¡± the man said brashly. ¡°We don¡¯t yet know whether or not Willem turned his back on us, or simply failed and retreated. If it¡¯s the former, you can¡¯t expose our spy network in Gent. That¡¯s why I express caution.¡±


    ¡°Why enlist an expert for a task and then give advice? To irritate, perhaps? To exert authority?¡± Petronella fixed her hair backward, tying it near the bottom in a loose braid. ¡°However tempting it might be to goad a chained beast, remember that losing me would be a far greater blow than losing you. I¡¯m sure our betters could overlook an accident.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. But you¡¯d only worsen your position on the next round of negotiations.¡± The ball¡¯s dim glow faded entirely.


    She scoffed lightly and shook her head. After one final examination of her appearance, she made for the door. Petronella was looking forward to this meeting. Despite the excessive oversight, infiltrating the church in Gent had been one of the most entertaining tasks of her time in servitude. She was looking forward to how this story unfolded.


    Willem van Brugh possessed youth and talent¡ªseparately they were bland, but together could be a wonderful brew. Perhaps this great talent would be bewitched by a monster bearing the guise of the church. It would be poetic. All too often, the young saw red flags as frills for their silken romance. Would this one be the same? Her superiors had assigned her to gather information and infiltrate the administration, but it didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t have her own fun.


    ***


    Petronella pulled on the iron handle leading to the Chamber of Divulgence. When it opened, she felt some minute surprise that Willem van Brugh had come to such a risky location. It seemed he didn¡¯t fear reprisal from her owners.


    The room ahead was octagonal, and had eight mirrors facing inward. Willem looked into the mirror opposite the door, studying her as she entered the room. She was doing the same for him. He did look a great deal like Baron Tielman, but¡­ younger, and less rigid. Petronella entered inside and shut the door. On all eight sides, the mirrors reflected them infinitely right alongside the altar in the center of the room.


    ¡°Enjoying the view?¡± She asked as she walked to the altar.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t glass, is it?¡± Willem tapped the mirror, ignoring her flirtatious question. ¡°Polished silver, looks like. Quite extravagant.¡±


    ¡°Silver has cleansing properties,¡± Petronella explained, having long ago memorized the superstitions of this church. They were false¡ªif they weren¡¯t, her shapeshifting guise would¡¯ve faltered in front of this silver long ago. ¡°But more importantly, it¡¯s needed for the ritual of Divulgence. I¡¯m Matriarch Petronella,¡± she said, gesturing elegantly toward herself.


    ¡°Really?¡± He turned around, paying closer attention. ¡°You¡¯ve aged well, matriarch.¡±


    Petronella smiled as sweetly as a priestess in white garb ought to when she told her lie. ¡°I¡¯m twenty-seven, Willem. Matriarch is a title bestowed by merit.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. I might be the same age.¡± Willem nodded with distant eyes, and Petronella wondered why he was lying¡ªhe was barely twenty-three. ¡°I forget, actually. After a while, the years stop being important.¡±


    Petronella wasn¡¯t sure whether he was nervous or eccentric. The reports described him as neither. Nevertheless, she had a role to play and information to extract.


    She gestured to the altar in the center of the room. ¡°To start, let¡¯s have you place your hands upon the altar. Your inner self will be projected to all eight mirrors in the room. Then, I¡¯ll hear your Divulgence. Is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Crystal.¡± Willem walked to the altar and planted both of his hands down firmly. The altar probed his energy, extracting it and harnessing it.


    A silver light pulsed, then faded down the altar into the floor before eventually creeping to the mirrors. The image that took shape in the mirrors was that of a coastline. The waters were a rich blue, and the trees were something Petronella had never seen before despite her decades of travelling the world. There was only one structure of note that seemed manmade¡ªtwo gravestones, with the writing too far to be legible.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Huh.¡± Willem looked around. ¡°I thought you were being metaphorical about projecting your inner self.¡±


    ¡°Not at all. The mirrors create an image you¡¯d find the most calming, so you can feel at ease giving your Divulgence.¡± Her eyes wandered this foreign scene, fascinated.


    Willem nodded, staring at those two gravestones. ¡°It would be here. This place¡­¡± He tried to walk toward the graves, but his hand bumped the wall and he jumped, brought back to reality.


    ¡°It¡¯s only an image,¡± she explained, staring at him with curiosity. What was this place? And how did some baron¡¯s son in the frigid northern reaches know it this well?


    ¡°I understand.¡± His eyes lingered on the two monuments. ¡°A shame I can¡¯t visit them.¡±


    ¡°Who were they?¡± she asked, gesturing toward the gravestones.


    ¡°They were¡­ someone¡¯s children, just like all of us.¡± Willem looked back at her. ¡°Well, go on. I always did tend to run my mouth when I came here. Turn my guts inside out, matriarch. I hope you appreciate the opportunity.¡±


    Petronella was surprised by his composure, and regained hers in turn. Mysteries fascinated her¡ªit was the nature of her species. But other secrets needed to be pried from this man, and duties needed to be fulfilled.


    ¡°Let us speak of something recent, then. You must¡¯ve thought a great deal about this. What has leaving your home taught you?¡± Petronella asked.


    ¡°Nothing I didn¡¯t already know,¡± Willem answered smoothly.


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°I knew that envy makes people behave foolishly. I knew that letting someone else decide who you are is a fool¡¯s game. And I knew that I was better off continuing to ignore things.¡±


    ¡°Ignore things?¡± Petronella pressed, wondering if he was indirectly referencing her present owners.


    ¡°Sure.¡± Willem nodded, crossing his arms. ¡°Success isn¡¯t always chasing great victories. Sometimes, it¡¯s just avoiding folly. When you see the easy victories, take them, but never chase them¡ªlet them come to you. And along the way, sidestep everything that invariably results in misery. Anyone can do it. Not many will.¡±


    Petronella couldn¡¯t dispel the notion he was speaking in inuendo, but wasn¡¯t convinced enough to break her cover just yet. Instead, she asked, ¡°What results in misery?¡±


    ¡°A great deal. If you want a guide, just look at people that are miserable and ignore the things they care about,¡± Willem outlined. ¡°I just stay cheerful in spite of whatever troubles I might have, avoid harboring a lot of resentment, and try to deserve what I want. It helps to have low expectations, but I¡¯ve found I¡¯m quite terrible at that.¡±


    ¡°Like expecting to be Baron Tielman¡¯s heir?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Willem looked like he¡¯d been taken out of his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ve never wanted the barony. What in the world would I want with a dingy castle that has invaders north of it? Let Tielman, or Lennard, or whoever rises out of that mess handle all of that. I intend to be down here, far from any troubles, with slightly unreasonable expectations for the future.¡±


    Petronella pursed her lips and held Willem¡¯s gaze. The Chamber of Divulgence, while primarily being a place to inspire calm, also served well as a room for interrogations. The projected scene would waver if the person inside was dishonest with their thoughts and feelings. It could be manipulated, of course, particularly by people with copious amounts of either magic or aura.


    But whether or not Willem was truthful or merely skilled at deception, she was certain this conversation meant that Willem had taken advantage of her owners to escape the barony. Fortunately, he seemed totally oblivious to her affiliation. Her report back would decide what came next for him; she could give him a peaceful exit, or make this a matter doubtless to inspire revenge from her owners.


    ¡°I¡¯ve said a little more than I intended.¡± Willem looked at the scenery again, breaking his gaze away. ¡°Perhaps it was this little trick you pulled. Or¡­ perhaps the pleasant company is to blame.¡± He smiled warmly at her.  ¡°Whatever the case, do you have what you need from me? Am I free to leave, financial records in hand?¡±


    Petronella perked up at his mention of pleasant company, wondering if he was less immune to her charms than he let on. ¡°You¡¯re free to leave, certainly. But you¡¯re also welcome to stay a great deal longer,¡± she said invitingly.


    ¡°Very kind, but I¡¯d prefer to collect those records and be off.¡± He brushed his hair back with his hand. ¡°I have a great deal to do.¡±


    Petronella pouted her lip involuntarily at his refusal. ¡°The church would like to impose some oversight to ensure our records are not being used for nefarious purposes.¡±


    ¡°Oversight?¡± He hesitated, appearing to loathe the idea. ¡°You people don¡¯t hate usury, do you?¡±


    ¡°Reasonable interest is wholly accepted,¡± Petronella answered from memory.


    ¡°Then some oversight is fine, so long as you look without touching.¡± Willem nodded. ¡°Shall I, then? Where are these papers?¡±


    ¡°Wait at the entrance to the temple. I¡¯ll have them sent to you,¡± she said.


    ¡°Wonderful.¡± Willem walked out briskly. When he left, so too did the scene he created. Petronella was left alone in the room with the mirrors, without having been given so much as a goodbye.


    Petronella walked up to the mirror, studying her immaculate face and robust body clad wholly in white. The man seemed far more interested in getting his hands on those papers than he did her¡ªshe hadn¡¯t even spotted one indecent glance, and she¡¯d certainly invited them plenty. Was she losing her touch? He¡¯d come away from the meeting having been far smoother than she had, Petronella felt.


    Whatever the case, she¡¯d gotten what she needed. Petronella could have a report ready any time she needed to, and by establishing the condition of oversight, she¡¯d gained an open line with someone closely associated to the count¡¯s family if she ever needed it. Anne Claire had already done a great deal for Willem, and she was known to be a woman hesitant to show any favor to anyone, even her blood children.


    With one last look upon her designed form, Petronella considered the idea that Willem was simply interested in the opposite persuasion. That had to be it, surely.

 10: Germinating the Seed of Greed

    Dirk had settled into an easier life than he¡¯d been expecting.


    In the coming days, Willem agreed to take ownership of the lodgings that Countess Anne Claire had provided in exchange for giving her some profits off the top of the fund. His things¡ªa chest of gold, and little else¡ªwere moved into the portside building. Anne Claire ¡®forgot¡¯ about some clothes and furniture that the servants had ¡®left behind¡¯¡ªclothes that fit Willem suspiciously well. Dirk suspected she¡¯d planted them there, but Willem never mentioned anything.


    Despite his incessant banter, Willem was very low-maintenance. He ate very humble meals like bread, beets, cabbage, or fish, but had a particular fondness for lobster. The shellfish appeared on the coast in tremendous quantities, often to the degree they were used as food for prisoners. Willem loved lobster, though bizarrely insisted they be cooked alive. Dirk thought it strange, yet couldn¡¯t deny it tasted better.


    Willem lived extremely frugally. Everything he purchased, he sought to learn the business and economics. He bypassed merchants and went straight to the suppliers. From them, he learned all the intricacies about the business. He spoke to competition, too, and sought out potential headwinds. Willem was as shrewd as he was inquisitive¡ªhe negotiated deals for just about everything, from his water supply to his food. With a small amount of legwork, Willem managed to convince countless people to sell him things at such a low cost it might as well have been free.


    It astounded Dirk how much overflowing confidence earned the man. Willem could hear the words ¡®no¡¯ eighty times, but the answer would eventually be ¡®yes¡¯ simply because he never let up. People insulted him, even spit at him occasionally, yet Willem engaged them honestly. He whittled them down with rationality, boundless shamelessness, and a touch of charm. And true to his word, Willem never lied. Not once. Dirk even tried to get him to lie without success.


    Most notably, Willem never once mentioned that he was Willem van Brugh, son of the Shield of the North, master of the warrior¡¯s power of aura. Even when news reached Gent that Baron Tielman was alive, the young lord didn¡¯t seem to care in the slightest. Willem was strong enough he could kill a hundred people in one minute, but instead he endured scathing tirades from the most unpleasant people Dirk had ever met without batting an eye. It was a far cry from the monstrous outcast noble Dirk had been expecting to work for. He took notice of that.


    Not merely Dirk¡ªothers, too, were impressed by Willem¡¯s behavior. He made his name known in the city: Willem, the thrifty young man who asked too many questions, never took no for an answer, and could make you look foolish with his words alone. Even after doing all of that day by day, Willem always retired by poring over the records he¡¯d received from the count¡¯s estate and the church¡¯s record of people¡¯s finances for tithes.


    About a week and half into it, however, when Dirk was walking down the stairs to the first floor after waking up¡­.


    ¡°Sit down, Dirk,¡± said Willem, gesturing to a chair across from his.


    Dirk, who¡¯d just woken up, rubbed his eyes wearily and shuffled over to the table. He sat down, glancing from side-to-side nervously.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Dirk asked. He looked around. ¡°You¡¯ve rearranged all the furniture.¡±


    ¡°Because this first floor is going to be the reception area.¡± Willem nodded. ¡°Needs to be neat and clean for the people that come in. Over there¡¯s my office, now. And that room¡­¡± He gestured vaguely. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out. Maybe it can be the vault, where I swim in gold coins naked.¡±


    Dirk sat up, his morning fatigue draining in moments. ¡°We¡¯re getting started? The mutual aid society, I mean.¡±


    ¡°What else?¡± Willem gently prodded over a piece of paper. ¡°I have a list of clients I intend to reach out to start with. I think you¡¯re going to have the most success chatting up the wives of wealthy merchants. I¡¯ve learned quite well who¡¯s reliable, who can be trusted. We have the charters from Anne Claire giving us legitimacy and legality, and I¡¯ve gone over the numbers. Now, it¡¯s time to start building our pile of capital.¡±


    Dirk swallowed and took the paper. ¡°Hold on¡ªI¡¯m going to have a great deal of success with the wives of wealthy merchants?¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Business success, I should stress. Don¡¯t get excited, Dirk. You¡¯ll embarrass yourself.¡±


    ¡°You want me to bring in these households as customers?¡± Dirk raised the paper, his eyes wide. ¡°All of them?¡±


    ¡°Most of them. I¡¯m realistic in my expectations for you.¡± Willem leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. ¡°You¡¯ve been shadowing me the whole time, and people know you¡¯re associated with me. I¡¯ve worked out an incentive-based compensation plan. I¡¯ll pay you a salary, but each one of those people that comes into my office interested in joining the Society of Assured Prosperity will net you a decent bonus¡ªmore if I close the deal. You bring them in, I finalize the deal. Simple for now, until we expand our ranks.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s crazy. I¡¯ve never¡­ I¡¯ve no experience in¡ª¡±


    ¡°The past week and a half, I¡¯ve given you a masterclass in negotiation and basic affability.¡± Willem leaned into the table. ¡°I¡¯ve amply demonstrated how a salesman, how a negotiator, should act. How they should be able to endure any indignity, and how they should be able to make any compromise within reason to get what they want. If you try what I did, I¡¯m positive you¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    Dirk set down the paper, too baffled to even read its contents. ¡°But I¡¯m not you,¡± he said earnestly. ¡°You¡¯re, well¡­ very competent at dealing with people, as much as I think you¡¯re odd and bizarre and possibly delusional.¡±


    Willem mimed writing on another piece of paper on the table. ¡°Keep talking, I¡¯m just lowering your starting salary.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± Dirk said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do what you do.¡±


    ¡°Dirk¡­¡± Willem sighed. ¡°I give you a lot of grief. It amuses me, and I¡¯m largely confident you don¡¯t take what I say seriously. Even if you did, I am something of an asshole, so it still tracks. But!¡± Willem tapped the table between them. ¡°You¡¯re reliable. If you say you¡¯ll do something, you always get it done¡ªno half-measures. You¡¯re diligent¡ªyou have to be, to match my whims. And, above all, you have integrity. I haven¡¯t counted the spoons, largely because I don¡¯t think I need to with you around. You never once acted in a manner where I thought you¡¯d steal from me or otherwise act unethically.¡±


    Dirk blinked in stunned silence, more than shocked that Willem had those high opinions of him. But beneath that, he felt a quiet swell of accomplishment, pride. He felt recognized. At some point, he¡¯d come to respect Willem¡¯s opinion, and felt some joy the man assessed him highly.


    ¡°You¡¯re an aura user. I couldn¡¯t steal without you noticing,¡± Dirk deflected.


    ¡°Yeah, whatever. Point is, you¡¯re good. And you¡¯re damned smart, too. I¡¯m confident you can pick this stupid stuff up. A smart kid like you, a brilliant teacher like me?¡± Willem threw his arms up. ¡°If you failed, you¡¯d embarrass the world.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ a salary? Compensation? I already work for you.¡± Dirk looked at the paper, reading some of the names. ¡°My fee was paid long ago by your father. You don¡¯t need to go these lengths. My contract dictates I should do all of this anyway.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t write your contract, nor pay your fee.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°Good work deserves good pay. It¡¯s good business sense to acquire talent and nurture it. When your contract is over, I want you to keep working here until you¡¯re eighty years old out of a deep sense of possibly misguided loyalty to the business empire I¡¯ve inevitably built in that time.¡±


    ¡°Right. Yeah.¡± Dirk picked up the paper, reading it over in silence. Already, he recognized some of the names on this list. He felt some nervousness as he imagined talking to them. ¡°If I¡¯m honest, I still think you¡¯re more than a little delusional about how this is going to end up.¡±


    ¡°All of us have stupid, misguided beliefs at some point in life,¡± Willem said as he nodded sagely. ¡°As you age, you¡¯ll discard them. That¡¯s called wisdom.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try my best.¡± Dirk nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll try my damnedest to make sure I¡¯m wrong.¡±


    ¡°The promise of money tends to have that effect.¡± Willem smiled. ¡°Good decision. You won¡¯t regret it. You start today. If there isn¡¯t a client in my office by the end of the day, I will mock you as you make my dinner.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Thanks for that.¡± Dirk sighed, then looked at Willem more seriously. ¡°Thank you, Willem. Sincerely.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m the best, the greatest.¡± He rose to his feet. ¡°Daylight is wasting. Get going.¡±


    Dirk felt a rumbling nervousness fiercer than any ocean current disturbing his guts as he looked at the various names on the paper. But after having seen what Willem could eke out in terms of deals¡­ Dirk couldn¡¯t say that it would be impossible.


    The confidence to ask, the readiness to be refused, and the persistence to keep trying despite that. That was all it took.

 11: How to Juice a Merchant

    ¡°We had no idea that you were the scion of House Brugh,¡± said a rather plump woman as she sat next to her thin and wiry husband. He didn¡¯t look particularly thrilled to be here.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t make it obvious, I hope.¡± Willem smiled. ¡°It wasn¡¯t relevant, then. But for the Society of Assured Prosperity, there¡¯s a need to establish legitimacy. Beyond the van Brugh name, this building was also provided to me by Countess Anne Claire van der Duyn, a founding member of our mutual aid society. The count¡¯s office has established charters lending us authority to operate in Gent, and the church has personal oversight of our operations. They also provided the financial information, which I¡¯ve taken upon myself to draft a preliminary membership agreement well-suited for your financial situation.¡±


    The thin man scoffed. ¡°The church. Of course.¡±


    Willem slid the document over, then stared at the man. ¡°I¡¯m sensing some reservations. Regardless of how the information came into my possession, the short and narrow of it is this; do you love your wife?¡± He looked at her, giving her his best smile. ¡°Would you like to be sure that she¡¯s always taken care of by your community, by our society? Death can come suddenly. While the number may seem large at first glance, it¡¯s a small price to pay for assured prosperity.¡±


    The man read through the contract, studying the figure listed. He looked at Willem¡¯s smiling face, then at his wife, whose chubby-cheeked smile seemed a great deal more dangerous. With a bead of sweat running down his forehead, he signed it and gave a forced smile.


    The first signature, and then the next clients.


    ¡°This is a great deal of money to pay a glorified executor of my will,¡± complained a thick, barrel-chested man. ¡°I could get the merchant¡¯s guild to do this.¡±


    Willem looked to his wife, but could tell she deferred to him. He refocused on the man. ¡°There are benefits you could enjoy now.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± He narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°We would loan out held money to preserve its value as the crown mints more coins,¡± Willem explained. ¡°Society members would be the primary beneficiaries of these loans, getting access to preferential interest rates and clauses in the debt that waive any right to indentured servitude in the event of a catastrophic default.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± He reexamined the document. ¡°My wife is rather shy. I¡¯d like you to see to it that the society members treat her well.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Willem smiled. ¡°You can rest easy.¡±


    Another signature, another sum of money, another new client.


    ¡°Is it true that Countess Anne Claire is a member?¡± a well-dressed woman inquired, having come without her husband.


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s a founding member. We speak quite often, and she¡¯s expressed some intent to have a personal hand in managing the society.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± the woman hesitated. ¡°How often would we actually meet? I mean, what do society meetings entail?¡±


    Willem grasped the question behind the question, and clasped his hands above his desk. ¡°The Society of Assured Prosperity is just beginning, but it¡¯s only natural for its members to have access to certain exclusive events. I¡¯ve been very rigorous about our selection process to ensure we only have high-class, wealthy clientele. I assure you; you¡¯ll be able to attend events that are the envy of even capital nobles.¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes seemed to glow, and she retrieved a gargantuan bag. ¡°I brought all of the gold. Give me the contract.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s right here,¡± he said, sliding the paper over. ¡°A pleasure.¡±


    Willem opened the bag, peering into the shining brilliance. Perhaps gold wasn¡¯t so bad after all.


    ***


    ¡°Three clients have already agreed to pay the annual fee once we work out the details. The bigger news is this: thirty-four others have agreed to attend the first monthly meeting as ¡®provisionary members.¡¯¡± Willem picked his cup of tea off the saucer, staring into the amber liquid. ¡°It makes sense. Three were interested in the service, but the rest? They want to see if this organization is as credible as it presents itself to be before making commitments. Tomorrow I¡¯ve got two more potential clients. It¡¯s been quite the start.¡±


    Willem, Dirk, and Anne Claire all sat at a table. Dirk looked exhausted, while Willem looked rather at his best.


    ¡°How did you get them to agree so readily?¡± Anne Claire asked, surprised.


    ¡°Ample legitimacy, proper preparation, and the core of it all¡ªI gave people something they were already looking for. Nobles have laws and a suite of servants to settle inheritance, but wealthy merchants? They¡¯re underserved. Local guilds handle most of those matters, but that has its own problems. We might become a little more heavily involved in settling estates than I¡¯d intended, but the society members themselves will be able to pick up some slack.¡±


    Anne Claire beamed at him. ¡°You work very quickly, my boy. I¡¯m a little disappointed you didn¡¯t come to me for help getting your first members. Nevertheless, you¡¯ve quite the knack for getting these merchants to crawl out of their homes. I¡¯ve heard from the guards that you¡¯ve been making quite the stir as a precocious lad, but I never expected it was to this extent.¡±


    ¡°Dirk is the salesman,¡± Willem said plainly, patting the man¡¯s back. His servant jumped, then grabbed his shoulder with a wince. ¡°I just push them over the edge. He gets them to come to me¡ªthat¡¯s the hard part.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Really?¡± Anne Claire looked at him. ¡°You, young man?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady,¡± he answered respectfully, straightening his posture. ¡°I¡¯ve found that telling them the story about how my father died, and how I¡¯ve needed to work since I was very young to take care of my siblings, works wonders.¡±


    ¡°Dirk¡¯s smart. He learns quickly,¡± Willem praised unabashedly. ¡°He¡¯s harmless and unassuming, evoking images of an orphaned child. I suppose he is a literal orphan, although I had no idea. He¡¯s done well for himself in spite of that.¡±


    ¡°Not an orphan. My mother¡¯s alive.¡± Dirk shook his head.


    ¡°Ah.¡± Willem pursed his lips. ¡°You¡¯re slightly less impressive than I said. Forgive me.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Thank you.¡± Dirk nodded with a bitter smile.


    Anne Claire elegantly sipped her tea¡ªshe¡¯d grown used to their banter. ¡°I¡¯m pleased it¡¯s working out well. Do you have any idea how far intend to take this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. The list I gave to Dirk has a little over a hundred households he could seek out, but it¡¯s unreasonable to expect all of those families to get involved. That first event could make prospective clients eager, or ward them away entirely.¡± He looked at Anne Claire. ¡°On that note, I may have volunteered you for something.¡±


    ¡°And what is that?¡± She looked at him patiently, not upset at all.


    ¡°You said you wanted to be involved. I thought it would be best if you chaired the monthly society gatherings. I can handle parties fine if you¡¯re unwilling, but I imagine you¡¯re quite adroit at it.¡± Willem set his teacup down without having a single drink. ¡°In time, I imagine these meetings could be hosted at other society member¡¯s homes. A few of them seem to enjoy showing off their wealth, and they¡¯d like to form connections. But for now, could you¡­?¡±


    ¡°Certainly. I can bring some friends who might be interested, as well.¡± Anne Claire nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s more than I can ask for. Thank you, Anne Claire.¡± Willem leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯ve got the baseline offering set up. We¡¯re ahead of the pack. But I want to be one step ahead. I anticipate other people will try and emulate this idea.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Dirk looked at him. ¡°You really think so?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. We have the advantage of being the first movers, but ideas spread fast. People are smart, resourceful, talented. Above all, they smell the scent of money. We have to build a moat, ere the wolves grow hungry.¡± Willem¡¯s gaze grew distant, as if in daydream. ¡°I want us to be trusted, to be reliable. When people think of safety and security, I want them to think ¡®Society of Assured Prosperity.¡¯ I want our members to hold their heads up high and say with pride their association. I want our organization to be the very first they consider. It should permeate the nation¡¯s collective minds, and some beyond it. I want market share in people¡¯s minds.¡±


    Dirk seemed to get it¡ªin something like insurance, customer trust would be invaluable for business. Willem had mentioned the idea of a sustainable competitive advantage in the past. Anne Claire, meanwhile, looked at Willem like he was a precious little angel with noble ideas.


    ¡°Once Dirk¡¯s exhausted the list of names, I want to focus on branding. I want to have something prepared at the first gathering.¡± Willem leaned in, speaking his thoughts without filter. ¡°It needs to signal the core of what the society is about, needs to be eye-catching, needs to be memorable. The idea I had was just SAP, in bold letters, but I¡¯ve no idea. I¡¯m no artist.¡±


    Dirk pondered that, but Anne Claire tapped her fan against the palm of her hand.


    ¡°I may be able to help,¡± the dowager countess said. ¡°There¡¯s a workshop that deals in heraldry. They generally work a house¡¯s heraldry into something like a weapon, a tablecloth, or what have you¡­ but I think it could apply well to this situation.¡±


    Willem perked up. ¡°Really? I don¡¯t recall hearing about a place like that locally. It¡¯s not outside Gent, is it?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s here. They don¡¯t open their doors to the public¡ªthey¡¯re for nobles only, after all. But with a word from me, they should see you,¡± Anne Claire said proudly. ¡°They certainly can¡¯t refuse a visit from the scion of House van Brugh when I tell them to.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m certainly glad I came here to Gent, first,¡± Willem said with a smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m of the same mind, my boy. I only wish I could come around more often.¡± She sighed, betraying some exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯m dealing with some troubles.¡±


    Willem frowned. ¡°What¡¯s troubling you?¡±


    ¡°Persistent cockroaches. Blond rats,¡± Anne Claire explained. ¡°They keep coming back, no matter what I do. It¡¯s quite vexing. They haven¡¯t done anything too disruptive, but I¡¯ve learned it¡¯s best to deal with them before they become a problem.¡± She took what could only be described as an angry sip of tea. ¡°But I¡¯ve a plan. Don¡¯t worry, my boy.¡±


    ***


    Lennard looked up at the walls of Gent, taking a deep breath of fatigue. The past week, he and the majordomo had been riding on horseback heading to this city. He certainly hadn¡¯t dared to ask his father to use the enchanted carriage after the tremendous rage he¡¯d seen on his face. He thought the biggest obstacle would be persuading Willem to return¡ªor worse yet, handle the fallout if his brother had already spent the gold he¡¯d taken.


    Instead, he hadn¡¯t even been allowed entry into the city.


    All sorts of thoughts ran through Lennard¡¯s head when the guards requested he remain outside, but most of them led back to Willem. He¡¯d arrived here first¡ªhe¡¯d been the first to speak to their sister, Catharina, and the first to tell his story. The more conspiratorial notions Lennard conjured revolved around this being a deliberate plot by the van der Duyns to get their stockpile of gold, but that was so far-fetched as to be insane.


    Whatever the case, the count of Gent surely wouldn¡¯t want to cause a diplomatic incident. The king, in order to foster cohesion and improve aura strength in strategic portions of the realm, had arranged the marriage between their two houses. If it reached His Majesty that Gent was denying entry to a member of House van Brugh, it could become a problem for them. To that end, Lennard had been camping outside the walls¡ªnot too forceful, but enough to demonstrate his unwillingness to back down.


    Yet¡­ four days had passed. Each day, he was refused entry. It was only today that the countess had agreed to meet him¡ªyet even then, she would be meeting him outside the city. It was insulting, but Lennard had no leverage.


    His father¡¯s majordomo rushed up to Lennard as he stared up. ¡°They¡¯ve come, young lord. The countess¡¯ knights, I mean. She¡¯s waiting in the gatehouse.¡±


    Lennard nodded without responding, then turned to where the majordomo pointed out. Cresting the hill concealing their camp, he laid eyes upon the knights. He could feel the aura within their bodies with one look at them. They were both a fair amount weaker than he was, but considering the van Brugh family was a martial house, that meant they were probably the best knights in the county. Lennard didn¡¯t like the implications.


    Nevertheless, he followed the knights. True to their word, they took him to the gatehouse. When they opened the door, he expected to see his sister. Instead, he saw a well-dressed old woman fanning herself.


    ¡°Lennard van Brugh,¡± greeted the woman. ¡°I am Dowager Countess Anne Claire.¡± She snapped her fan shut forcefully. ¡°Have a seat.¡±

 12: Tantalizing Temptresses and Tradesmen

    Willem examined the fancy workshop that Anne Claire had recommended to him. He could hear the sounds of industry echoing out of its fenced perimeter. The place looked unassuming, but that was largely because it was sectioned off from the rest of the city so well. Up close, one could tell that this place was quite the formidable operation.


    ¡°Willem van Brugh?¡± asked the person behind the gate. ¡°The master will see you now.¡±


    With a large spark, the gate faded away like an illusion. Willem studied the magic in some surprise, then followed right after the escort into the workshop itself. He passed by countless experts, hard at work in their craft: sewing fabric by hand, beating metal with a hammer, working the bellows of a forge. Seeing it only reminded Willem of how many inefficiencies this world had¡ªinefficiencies he hoped to whittle away with the chisel of capitalism.


    He saw displays of magic on his path. Two women heated one particular forge with red flames that erupted out of their hands. He could feel its waves of heat more intensely than the mundane forges. Elsewhere, two other women infused a bit of metal with glowing crystals. He had been curious about magic, but Dirk¡¯s explanations informed him only that it was too complex to understand without significant study. Some things were simply too hard for the payoff, and thus he¡¯d ignored the field since then. Let someone else pioneer magic¡ªhe¡¯d just think about how to make money off it.


    Willem¡¯s escort stopped before a well-dressed man, getting his attention with a clear of his throat. The new man turned to look at Willem, waving the escort away. Willem assumed him to be the master of the workshop. He was thin, wiry, with a sharp face and sparse facial hair.


    ¡°Are you the cunt?¡± the man asked gruffly.


    Willem snorted at the rudeness. ¡°One of many. Which one were you expecting?¡±


    The man seemed amused by Willem¡¯s response but said, ¡°The one that expects me to ruin my entire business on a lark, crafting badges for wealthy merchants. Do I have that right?¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t settled on badges, but that¡¯s the short and narrow of it.¡± Willem gave a nod. ¡°Can we talk business, then?¡±


    ¡°I agreed to see you because Anne Claire asked it of me. I won¡¯t denigrate the van der Heiden heritage by taking on odd jobs to turn a quick profit, so I¡¯ll save us some time¡ªI can make something for you alone. You bear the van Brugh name, which is a worthy house of worthy warriors. But for this¡­ society¡­ the countess mentioned?¡± The wiry man crossed his arms defiantly. ¡°Not a chance.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Willem asked curiously. ¡°You never gave it.¡±


    ¡°Karel van der Heiden.¡± A steely glint shone in his gray eyes. ¡°A scion of the van Brughs should know that name. My weapons grace the hands of many an aura user.¡±


    Willem had been given a firm ¡®no,¡¯ but in business, hearing the word ¡®no¡¯ meant there was room for negotiation. Karel wouldn¡¯t have even taken the time to see him if he didn¡¯t intend on making a deal. He¡¯d done his research before coming to this place¡ªit was never wise to come unprepared.


    The van der Heidens ran a luxury goods company. They used different words to describe themselves, but at their core, they made high-quality yet disgustingly overpriced goods that insecure people purchased to flaunt wealth and status. He¡¯d asked some people, and their family did have a huge reputation¡­ but more and more noble families had personal smiths, and their influence was waning. The van Brughs, for instance, had all of their weapons made by the Cabinet by decree of the king. Each of the four grand duchies in the kingdom had personal smiths.


    Willem didn¡¯t like investing in luxury brands, generally. They had extremely high profit margins, but lacked scalability and predictable revenue growth. On the other hand, the oxymoronic ¡®accessible luxury?¡¯ Willem saw potential, even in this underdeveloped world. His society members would be the ideal demographic for that business.


    Still, that was the distant future. For now, he only needed a foot in the door. He knew precisely the wedge to employ. Luxury makers suffered from the same vanity as their customers.


    ¡°You¡¯re making banners, I noticed.¡± Willem looked around. ¡°And tabards, too. Tablecloths¡­ handkerchiefs¡­¡± he rattled off all the things he saw.


    ¡°Is that what you need?¡± Karel raised a brow.


    ¡°What differentiates between Heiden banners and another weaver?¡± Willem questioned, genuinely curious.


    ¡°We use the highest-quality fabric,¡± answered Karel at once.


    ¡°It¡¯s only the fabric?¡± Willem jabbed. ¡°If another weaver had the same supplier, they could make banners of the same quality?¡±


    Karel lifted his head up. ¡°Our weavers all have over twenty years of experience.¡±


    ¡°So if I gave my dearly departed grandmother the same fabric, she could recreate Heiden workmanship?¡±


    Karel scoffed in disbelief. ¡°Are you deliberately trying to denigrate our family, or is your head as vacant as your words?¡±


    ¡°Just pointing out that that you already have denigrated your family.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Do you think the founder of the van der Heiden family only ever sold his goods to nobility? I imagine he had to work his way up. It¡¯s not about who you make it for¡ªit¡¯s about what you make.¡±


    ¡°Sophistry.¡± Karel waved away Willem dismissively. ¡°I don¡¯t need to hear any more from you. Your father is the only reason I even entertained your visit.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°At the end of the day, the only reason I can picture someone as proud as you resorted to making banners is because you had to. It was the only way to keep you and yours fed,¡± Willem continued. ¡°Why cling to traditions when you can see them failing? Why not pioneer your own path, instead of retreading well-trodden roads?¡±


    Karel laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t advise me, boy. I assume you¡¯re eager to follow your own advice, deviate from the family path?¡±


    Willem held his arms out. ¡°I¡¯ve already voluntarily disinherited myself doing just that. I saw a brighter future elsewhere. Everything I hear, though, suggests the Heidens aren¡¯t as in-demand as you once were.¡±


    Karel sighed and rubbed his eyes. ¡°I know that things aren¡¯t as good as they used to be. I¡¯m not blind. But my time for youth¡¯s pursuits has long passed. You were right on one point:  I do what keeps my wife and children fed.¡±


    ¡°Even if that candle¡¯s burning out? Even if what I¡¯m suggesting is inevitable?¡± After a long pause to give the man some time to process that, Willem walked a little closer. ¡°What could give you justification to take on my request? There has to be some compromise they¡¯ll overlook.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and I don¡¯t care.¡± Karel shook his head. ¡°I won¡¯t jeopardize my future considering it.¡±


    ¡°What if I could get House van Brugh to use the Heidens for their smithing needs, henceforth?¡± Willem proposed.


    ¡°You just said you were disinherited.¡± Karel squinted at him suspiciously.


    ¡°Let me worry about the details. All I need to know is if that would work.¡± Willem put his hands behind his back, waiting for the answer.


    Karel did look enticed, but he wiped his face down with his hands to hide that expression. ¡°Maybe. I¡¯d have to speak to my father.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send a letter to Baron Tielman, you send a letter to your father.¡± Willem smiled, intuiting he¡¯d managed to stop the door from closing completely. ¡°In the meantime¡­ maybe we could draft out plans for what the society will get?¡±


    ¡°I fail to see why I should rush into something that isn¡¯t even sure to happen.¡± Karel shook his head. ¡°I think you should head out, get¡ª"


    ¡°Three hundred gold once the project is done,¡± Willem promised. ¡°Repeat business if I¡¯m satisfied.¡±


    ¡°Step into my drafting chamber so we can discuss the details.¡± Karel graciously beckoned toward a room in the corner of the workshop.


    ***


    Willem walked out of the workshop hefting a wooden sign. After some discussion with Karel, the man latched onto the name of the manor that Dowager Countess Anne Claire owned¡ªDiamant, or in the current tongue, diamond. After an hour of discussion, they settled upon the idea of creating brooches that employed crystal glass and brass¡ªcheap yet pretty materials. Light would pass through the crystal glass in a certain way, concealing a mark that revealed itself only when light fell upon it from a particular direction. It would eliminate fraudulent brooches. Karel deemed it a ¡®fitting challenge for an ill-fitting task.¡¯


    He¡¯d also created a logo, having etched a diamond out into a wooden plank of wood. Beneath it, Willem had him write, ¡®Society of Assured Prosperity.¡¯ It¡¯d serve as a suitable adornment to the front of the building, Willem felt. Karel certainly knew his craft. Willem intended to make good on his promise to contact Baron Tielman. He had some doubts about whether or not he could genuinely get the baron to consent, but the potential of a relationship with such a craftsman was worth the effort.


    With the sign in hand, Willem came to his next stop¡ªthe city church. Religions certainly didn¡¯t skimp on architecture. The church to the nameless goddess of life had an outer perimeter of covered walkways made of wood. They thrived with vines and were adorned with other such plants. Deeper inside was the sheer white building he¡¯d entered for his last visit. It was made of flawless marble, and unlike the somewhat Moorish architecture of the rest of Gent, had an almost Greek or Roman air to it.


    Willem passed under the covered walkways, entering the main building. He¡¯d been expecting to have to ask a priestess where he could find Matriarch Petronella, but instead he spotted her immediately. She spoke to several of her fellow priestesses. He walked into her view, then sat on a provided bench and looked around.


    The altar in the back of the room wasn¡¯t a statue, but a pristinely-maintained white tree grown into the shape of a woman, complete with a great mane of green leaves. Several priestesses tended to it, watering its roots, trimming the leaves on its head, directing pulses of magic into its trunk¡­ it seemed a burdensome thing to maintain.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you again so soon. The people aren¡¯t so devout in the north,¡± Petronella said as greeting, and Willem jumped slightly. ¡°Perhaps you came to see me?¡±


    ¡°I did, actually.¡± He looked up at her as he sat, and her eyes widened with a smile at his words. ¡°How busy are you, generally?¡±


    ¡°How busy am I? Hmm¡­ well, on festivals and the day of rest, I have no time¡ªthey¡¯re days of worship, and much is asked of me. All other days, I tend to have to go out of my way to busy myself. Meaning¡­ I¡¯m entirely free.¡± She walked to the bench he was on and sat beside him. ¡°Why? Do you intend to ask me somewhere?¡±


    ¡°The society I¡¯m starting¡ªthe first meeting is likely to be pivotal,¡± Willem explained. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a variety of ways to make it perfect. Now, I was thinking I needed a certain church¡¯s matriarch present to make the night shine all the brighter.¡±


    She leaned in close enough he caught the floral scent lingering about her hair. ¡°You want me to make your night shine?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Willem nodded, rubbing his nose so the scent didn¡¯t make him sneeze. ¡°People know you, respect you.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡± She stared at his face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know you, therefore can¡¯t respect you,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe both could change if you show up.¡±


    Petronella laughed quietly. ¡°When? Where?¡±


    ¡°Twenty-two days from now,¡± Willem said confidently. ¡°I¡¯ll send a more official invitation once Anne Claire works out the venue and whatnot.¡±


    ¡°If only it were sooner.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Willem narrowed his eyes. ¡°Just like that? I don¡¯t have to slip you an extra tithe?¡±


    ¡°I imagine you couched your mutual aid society charter in charitable language so you didn¡¯t have to slip me any tithe at all,¡± she said with a faint smirk. ¡°But¡­ that¡¯s fine. This church is wealthy enough as is. Perhaps I believe in your idea. Perhaps I simply wish to enjoy your company. Regardless, one evening isn¡¯t so much to ask.¡±


    Willem had been prepared to make some concessions for her presence, but was pleased she asked for nothing. Having a prominent church leader come to the meeting would indicate a great deal about the legitimacy of the operation, and perhaps put pressure on some who needed good relations with the church. Every little bit helped.


    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll send someone with the official invitation when it¡¯s ready.¡± Willem rose.


    He didn¡¯t want to risk her asking any favors, so he walked out the way he came as fast as his long strides could carry him.

 14: An Unloving Family

    Tielman held his sword in front of him, staring at the training dummy with unwavering eyes. He took a step forward and swung downward. The magic within the dummy made it come alive, and it swung its blade to parry his own. He masterfully maintained his momentum, beginning an ever-quickening dance. Metal glancing against metal filled the hall with a song of iron. The baron¡¯s frustration poured into every blow until the intensity increased to such a point the blades spent more time in contact with each other than they were apart.


    Eventually, the baron¡¯s blade danced back the impeccably quick reactions of the magic dummy, sinking into its neck. The tough fabric resisted, and the dummy once again went dormant. Tielman pulled his blade away, his breathing only barely labored. He put his blade back in its sheath, then looked up at the night sky.


    ¡°Still no aura?¡±


    Tielman looked toward the voice, his caution raised until he realized who it was. There was only one person who could sneak up on him so¡ªGodfried, the brother between Lennard and Willem in age. He looked the most like his mother, with a lithe, limber form and dark hair. Even in the art of war, he¡¯d received training from his mother. All he had from Tielman was his blue eyes.


    Godfried had been cold to Tielman since the divorce, as he felt his mother had been dishonored. Tielman couldn¡¯t begrudge his son that perspective. Despite his attempts to mend things, he couldn¡¯t get through to the boy.


    ¡°Still dangerous to use it,¡± Tielman answered his son, walking toward him.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Godfried nodded, hand resting on the rapier at his waist. The two stood around awkwardly and silently. Despite his fondness for his mother, Godfried was the most like Tielman of all of them¡ªcold, quiet, efficient. It was difficult to judge who was worse at communicating.


    ¡°Going to use¡ª"


    ¡°Letter came¡ª¡±


    Both of them spoke at the same time, then paused.  Tielman gestured to Godfried for him to proceed.


    ¡°Letter came from Willem.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tielman¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Let me see.¡±


    Godfried didn¡¯t move to obey. ¡°We¡¯ve finally gotten rid of him, and now you¡¯re expending no effort to bring him back into the family.¡±


    Tielman looked at him without breaking away. ¡°Back into? He remains family. These are merely legal issues.¡±


    Godfried leaned against a pillar of the hall. ¡°Do you remember what happened to my fianc¨¦e?¡±


    Tielman sighed. ¡°I remember.¡±


    ¡°You say that, then act rather differently from how you should.¡± Godfried looked away from his father.


    Tielman also looked away. ¡°I¡¯d do the same for you.¡±


    Godfried scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡±


    Tielman only adjusted the sword strapped to his belt, unable to gather a response. Before he could say more, Godfried pulled the letter out from his shirt and handed it over. Tielman took it, folding it open. At once, he narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Willem truly sent this?¡±


    ¡°The carrier bird came from the count¡¯s estate in Gent,¡± Godfried said. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Penmanship is different.¡± Willem looked at Godfried¡¯s skeptical face, then elaborated, ¡°I taught all of you how to read and write myself.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps a servant wrote it.¡± Godfried shrugged. ¡°Is the content unusual?¡±


    Tielman read it once more to be sure. ¡°It asks me to come to Gent, provided I¡¯m feeling well enough. And¡­ he¡¯s happy I¡¯m better.¡±


    ¡°Definitely fake,¡± Godfried said with conviction. ¡°If it is a trap¡­¡±


    ¡°It could be real.¡± The baron studied the greeting and the closing. Neither said father¡ªinstead, it said ¡®Baron Tielman.¡¯ He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Whatever the case, I have to go. All leads to the poisoner died off. If these are the same people behind my assassination attempt, then I can bait them out.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re unwell. I could tell.¡± Godfried gestured toward the dummy. ¡°Your aura is sealed.¡±


    Tielman put his hand on his sword¡¯s pommel. ¡°Not sealed, merely dangerous to use. Besides, I¡¯ll be well enough by the time I arrive.¡±


    ¡°Take your best knights, at least,¡± Godfried said hurriedly.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°No. Avaria might be responsible for the poisoning.¡± Tielman shook his head. ¡°The knights stay.¡±


    ¡°Bring Hans, then,¡± Godfried suggested.


    ¡°I sent Hans to speak to your mother,¡± Tielman said. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine alone.¡±


    Godfried seemed to grind his teeth together, then said, ¡°I¡¯m coming with you.¡±


    Tielman waved away the offer. ¡°I said I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ want to see Catharina.¡± Godfried crossed his arms. ¡°And I need to find out what Willem¡¯s actually planning. Perhaps he¡¯s playing you for a fool, knowing your refusal to give him genuine punishment for anything he does.¡±


    Tielman wished to reprimand his son, but could muster no excuse in front of something he, himself had thought a great many times.


    In the end, he walked away after saying only, ¡°Prepare your things. We leave in the morning.¡±


    ***


    The griffon swooped down upon Lennard in the howling snowstorm, yet aura coursed all around the arm that held his shield and his feet as he was forced back along the mountaintop. The beast was easily eight times his size, yet in the end, its mad dash stopped. Golden aura swarmed all around him, and with a grunt, he swung his shield arm to swat it away. The monster let out a deafening cry, reeling backward and struggling to maintain its footing.


    The griffon scrambled backward toward the edge of a cliff, preparing to run off again and take off in flight. Lennard gathered all of his aura, throwing his sword and piercing both its foot and the mountain below. Pinned, it stumbled. That was all the time Lennard needed to close the distance, and he seized the beast¡¯s throat.  He turned his body, pulling the griffon along with him until he slammed it against the ground.


    Lennard drew the knife at his waist, plunging it into the beast¡¯s throat, and with a yank opened it up. He kept it restrained as it thrashed, raged, and bled. He stared into the beast¡¯s eyes with his golden aura raging all about him as it went through its last moments on this realm. It tried to claw, tried to batter him with its wings, but his position was simply too advantageous.


    In the end, its struggles ceased. The golden aura pulsing all around Lennard began to vanish like it never had been, and he lowered his head with a sigh before turning and sitting upon its corpse. He pulled free his sword from the ground, frowning at the chip in its surface. He wiped it down on the griffon¡¯s feathers, then sheathed it resignedly.


    Dowager Countess Anne Claire had asked for him to come to this mountain to avenge her late husband, the count, and find his body if it was possible. Lennard could tell that was the only way he¡¯d be able to gain entrance to Gent. Fighting griffons was something he had a glut of experience at, so he took the opportunity.


    Lennard rose to his feet, eyeing the griffon¡¯s corpse. This looked like the beast that had claimed her husband, at least from the survivor¡¯s tales. Still¡­ he didn¡¯t want her to devise some excuse, and still had yet to recover her husband¡¯s corpse. It¡¯d be for the best if he simply hunted every griffon in the mountains to be totally certain. Then, at least, he¡¯d be guaranteed entry.


    Lennard kneeled, ready to take a trophy and move on to the next quarry.


    ***


    ¡°Dirk¡¯s going to be continuing to try and get the rest on the list, but considering there¡¯s likely going to be some cancellations, the final number of guests is probably about seventy,¡± Willem told Anne Claire.


    The two of them enjoyed a nice lunch in a pavilion in the count¡¯s estate.


    ¡°Seventy? Hmm. A larger number than I thought.¡± Anne Claire deliberated for only a moment before nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll just ask my son to lend me the ballroom in the city. Food, though¡­¡±


    ¡°I imagine most of them won¡¯t mind if we have less expensive stuff. I have a deal with a fishmonger. I think I can work something out.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Boggles the mind that fish is so cheap.¡±


    ¡°Good. Good!¡± Anne Claire smiled as she looked upon things. ¡°I visited Karel expecting to have to lean on him further, but¡­ it sounds like you¡¯d already worked something out.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Willem took a bite of his veal, chewing it in solemn thought before he swallowed and continued. ¡°It may be contingent on Baron Tielman¡¯s cooperation, but I¡¯m hoping the gleaming gold blinds him even if that aspect falls through.¡±


    ¡°Tielman? What?¡± Anne Claire looked uneased.


    ¡°I invited him over,¡± Willem explained. ¡°Was that rude? I mean, the man was dying, but it¡¯s been a while. Dirk said it would be fine. I trust Dirk.¡±


    ¡°Rude? By rumor, the baron killed an ogre that broke into his encampment with his guts still hanging out from last battle¡¯s injury.¡± Anne Claire looked uneased. ¡°Tielman will be fine. I¡¯m just worried he¡¯ll try and convince you to rescind your disinheritance.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have any leverage over me anymore.¡± Willem shrugged. ¡°Lennard must¡¯ve really hated me. He was thorough. I appreciate what he did all the same. I got a nice payday, even if I probably didn¡¯t deserve it. But hey, luck¡¯s always a factor in business. Right place, right time, all that.¡±


    Anne Claire looked sad, but she covered her face with her fan before Willem could see. ¡°Tielman is still your father. How can you know he won¡¯t play any card against you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t consider him my father.¡± Willem shook his head. ¡°Nor any of the others my family. From what I understand, the feeling is mutual.¡±


    Anne Claire¡¯s eyes trembled, and she reached across the table and put her hand atop Willem¡¯s wrist.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, my boy. You¡¯re here,¡± she said, trying her best to make her tone happy. ¡°And you¡¯re going to stay here, right?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± Willem said through a mouthful of food, his gaze distant and distracted. ¡°Lot of business to get done in this place. Favorable tax rate of zero. I¡¯ve got no reason to leave.¡±


    Anne Claire looked reassured, and discreetly dabbed beneath her eyes to wipe away some tears. She thought Willem was reminiscing about the nightmares he¡¯d been through at the van Brugh estate. She pictured him and Catharina enduring some horrible training together with whips and clubs¡ªperhaps spikes, caltrops, and bear traps were involved.


    In reality, Willem was thinking about what businesses he should try and buy into once he got enough capital from the Society of Assured Prosperity. If Dirk were here, he could attest to the fact that was all Willem really thought about.