Chapter 58. Introduction

"Then, let's have them prepare a meal while we discuss. You won't be able to eat properly when you return, right? I hope you can fill up here."

Creak, Bang!

"Bu-but, a nobleman..."

As soon as the door closed, Romandor rubbed his neck and grumbled. If this continues, he might really start to form a prejudice against the border barons.

Ian took the documents he had been looking at and checked them one by one.

"The prices are bad, but the list is even worse."

"Exactly. There are almost no emergency crops."

With a harsh winter expected, what they needed were emergency crops with short harvest periods and relatively high yields. However, what Merelop had presented were mostly high-end ingredients consumed by the nobility.

"This is ridiculous. Did you have a bad relationship with Derga?"

"I don't know about that. But even apart from that, the trade itself is not pleasant."

They had no food to eat, and now the royal palace was sending an advisor who would expect them to provide food. Moreover, they had suffered losses, known or unknown, due to the battle in the Bratz territory.

"During the battle, some of them tried to escape to Merelop. The butler of the Bratz manor was also beheaded here. During that period, the gates were locked, and no one could go out..."

With the forest in front of them, they couldn't gather firewood, hunt, or pick fruits. Trade was also disrupted. While it was impossible to know exactly what inconveniences they faced during the isolation, it was possible to guess.

Romandor groaned and clutched his head.

"Advisor."

"Hmm?"

Ian tapped the table a few times and slowly called out to Romandor. In fact, even if they didn't secure food here, Ian had a way.

"Forgive me, but I estimate the support funds to be around 3,000 gold coins. Is that correct?"

"That's a sensitive matter, so I can't tell you."

"I know a way to use this money that is far more valuable than buying things like cream and olives. If you trust me and follow me, Romandor."

The gula, known as the divine grace that ended the great famine in Barial. Ian had four bags of gula seeds.

Compared to other emergency crops, gula had an overwhelmingly short cultivation period, abundant yield, and nutritional value.

How could they spend this money on such things when they had such a perfect food source?

"What do you mean?"

"We can't use the precious support funds sent by the royal palace for this. This is a waste, and even more so, a luxury."

"I agree, but what can we do?"

Ian flipped the documents over and pushed them aside as if they were worthless. He then asked Romandor's subordinates to check if anyone was eavesdropping. Once they left the room, Ian whispered quietly.

"I want to buy something else here."

"Something else? What?"

"People."

Romandor's eyes widened in surprise.

"...The slave market is only held in the central area. Surely, it's not hosted by Baron Merelop?"

"No. That's not it. I want to buy labor."

Even if they didn't spend all 3,000 gold coins, it would be enough, Ian whispered. Romandor, who had no idea what was going on, alternated between looking at Ian and the trade proposal documents, deep in thought.

"Please lend me your ear."

Ian smiled and whispered the existence of gula into Romandor's ear. Romandor's expression changed to one of disbelief, but only for a moment.

* * *

"Are you just leaving?"

"Yes, my lord. We will consider the trade proposal null."

Baron Merelop glanced at the food laid out on the table. Despite promising a lavish spread, it was mainly a boiled meat stew, a dish that commoners often cooked to avoid wasting any juices.

He had been trying to show his displeasure with the trade proposal through this meal. The baron stroked his beard and smirked.

"You're full."

"Will you see us off?"

"It's fine. Just make up an excuse."

Publicly, he hadn't refused help; they had just chosen not to accept it. Merelop had been worried that they might come back and offer to trade at that price.

'Soon, the Thousand Tribes who can't withstand the cold will return, and when they're all starving, there will be no other choice.'

The reason Merelop ruled the border like a king was that, being on the border, he was out of the royal palace's sight.

No matter what happened, the royal palace wouldn't know, thanks to the physical and psychological distance.

But if a royal palace official were to sit in the Bratz territory?

'Damn. Just thinking about it...'

Even Merelop, the neighboring territory, would be under the royal palace's scrutiny. In that case, it would be better for Merelop to take over Bratz. Although there was the burden of dealing with the barbarians, it was far better than having the royal palace as a neighbor.

The baron walked to the window and checked below. Near the main gate, Ian and the advisor were standing in front of a carriage, talking.

* * *

"Perhaps they just don't like having a royal palace official in Bratz."

"It's a burden to have as a neighbor."

"Morally, it's a problem, but what can you do? Once you're dead, morality is meaningless."

Because it was too far away, Merelop didn't realize that he had been completely seen through by Ian. Romandor thought for a moment, then nodded, acknowledging that it was a reasonable assessment.

"Yes, that's true. I didn't think of that."

"By the way, the butler is taking a bit long, isn't he?"

"Probably because the baron is busy with something."

"I don't think so. From what I can see, he won't see us off."

Ian fiddled with his pocket watch, muttering. Now that he had confirmed Merelop's stance, all that was left was to return to the territory and introduce gula to Romandor.

"Ah."

At that moment, a woman emerged from the back door of the garden. She was a noble lady with platinum blonde hair, adorned with all sorts of luxurious decorations.

"...Lady Merelop?"

"Ian! You're Ian, right?"

"Nice to meet you."

Ian hid his surprise and kissed her hand. Unlike Baron Merelop, she was a vibrant woman. He had assumed she was around the same age as Mary, with whom she had been friends, but she looked much younger.

"I'm Lien Merelop. I heard you came, but you're already leaving? Why don't you stay for a meal?"

Although she was younger, her position and everything else were above Ian and Romandor. It was a natural form of address, and Ian, understanding this, didn't feel offended. He just thought she was a bit rude.

"Thank you, but the baron offered, and I have a mountain of work. Perhaps next time."

Swish.

The lady fanned herself with a luxurious fan and smiled enigmatically. Ian and Romandor exchanged glances. Why was the baron's wife acting like this? The atmosphere seemed off.

'The dress doesn't match the season, and her gaze is off... It's the kind of feeling you get when you meet someone in a dark alley and think you should turn back.'

It was an impression you wouldn't easily get from a beautiful baron's wife.

"Advisor?"

"Oh, Romandor."

"It's an honor. I didn't expect to hear your name."

"I apologize."

"Is this all your party?"

She asked, gently twirling her fan. Half of those who had come with them had already gone to the city center to buy the 'people' Ian had proposed.

"They left early because it might take a while. We're waiting for the butler."

"Ah, I see. How is the Bratz territory? My husband hasn't told me anything about it."

"Yes, thanks to you."

"Ahaha. And I have a question."

"Please, Lady."

The baron's wife came closer, using her fan to cover her face. The servants seemed to have their heads bowed, their eyes and ears closed.

"Is anyone using Lady Mary's room?"

"Lady Mary's room?"

"I have something I lent and never got back."

Shh. Her voice lowered as if telling Ian to do the same. Ian remembered Mary's last words.

"Oh."

Lady Mary had mentioned that she had something to help in Merelop but didn't reveal what it was. Given that she had said it until the last moment, it was probably something important.

Lady Merelop urged Ian with sparkling eyes.

"Hmm? Is the room intact?"

"...It should be. No one goes there often. If you wish, you can visit anytime."

"Is that really okay?"

"Of course. It's an empty room, so who would say anything?"

Lady Merelop's eyes curved in satisfaction. At that moment, the butler came out with a small box, and she turned her head as if nothing had happened.

"Madam?"

"The guests are leaving, where is the baron?"

"Ah, he has sudden business and can't leave his seat. He asks for your understanding and sends this small token of appreciation. He also said that if there's anything we can help with as neighbors, to let us know."

The butler bowed deeply, and the lady covered her mouth with her fan and laughed. The butler had a talent for