Commerce Emperor Chapter 31: The Duchess of Walbourg (Patreon)

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Walbourg’s border was but a stone's throw away.

Of all the south-west’s fortress cities, few inspired as much respect as Riverstone. Watching its curtain walls rising beside the river under the rising sun was a humbling experience; each of its soaring towers were as large as Snowdrift’s Black Keep. The scorpions and ballistas atop the battlements appeared no bigger than toys.

Riverstone was built atop a rocky bluff overlooking the Starstream River. It ran swift and deep, so much so that it offered little to no crossing points. A great dam of smooth gray stone wide enough to let five wagons travel on its surface at once linked the main city to a castle on our side of the river, a smaller fortress with deep moats, a strong barbican, and portcullis.

Walbourg owed its name to Wal the Willful, a past Ranger who helped defend Archfrost from a large beastmen invasion and obtained land in return. He famously summoned the beasts of the land to help raise his new duchy’s cities. Riverstone had been one of his first works. Ironically, the fortress had originally been constructed to help defend Archfrost from southwestern attacks; now it stood as Walbourg’s main line of defense against its former homeland. Countless times did Archfrost’s forces crash against its walls only to be pushed back.

Walbourg has bolstered the town’s defenses. I studied the banners sprouting along the moat atop army pavilions. I assumed they were the retreating reinforcements falling back to the duchy. Riverstone’s bridge could only allow so many people to cross it at once. One banner, however, stood out from the rest. A wolf-rider under a crescent moon… could it be…

“The Moonlight Riders,” Marika confirmed at my side. We had set up camp atop a nearby hill, offering us a splendid view of the area. “I recognize the symbol. My old village’s lord hired them to deal with bandits a few years ago.”

“What impression did they give?” I asked her. The Moonlight Riders were a famous mercenary company—doubly so since their leader became the new Cavalier—but I’d never encountered them personally.

“They were good customers,” Marika replied. “Professional and disciplined too.”

I could see that. Rows of sharpened stakes protected the pavilions’ perimeter. Many would call it an excessive measure considering how close they were to their main fortress, but caution never killed anyone. Moreover, I noticed winged creatures running circles in the sky. Great lizards with brownish scales and wings stretching from the end of their forearms. Armored cavaliers with spears and bows rode on their backs thanks to chained harnesses.

Wyvern riders.

They were uncommon in these parts. Wyverns mostly made their home in Erebia’s mountains or the Fire Islands’ volcanos. Unlike pegasi, they possessed a vicious and unruly disposition that made them difficult to tame. Few armies could afford to field a squadron of them, let alone mercenaries.

“So the tales were true, Duchess Griselda did give the Cavalier and her troops command of Riverstone,” I muttered to myself. Good. This would be an opportunity to make contact with Roland’s wayward Vassal Hero before anything else. “You’ve exchanged letters with her, haven’t you?”

“A few.” Marika let out a shrug. “I mostly tried to convince her to meet with us, since we Heroes are better off not fighting each other.”

“Hopefully, she’ll have listened to you.” I smirked. “Or else we will have to build our own bridge.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Marika replied with a chuckle. She had grown used to my jokes by  now. “Should we announce our presence?”

“The wyvern riders should have already noticed us. Since they haven’t sent any emissaries, they’re likely waiting for us to present ourselves first.” I glanced at our camp. Mr. Fronan’s power let us raise shacks of intertwined trees and moats of thorns in an instant. “Is Soraseo back from her morning hunt yet?”

“I’m not sure…” Marika looked around the hill and suddenly gasped in surprise. “Over there!”

I coughed when I saw our friend returning to camp on horseback and trailing a gruesome hunting trophy: the pony-sized head of a giant white furred wolf with fearsome, sword-shaped fangs and a pitch black mane. Soraseo beamed with pride at her quarry. Her crimson armor was drenched in blood, none of it her own.

“I earned the victory,” Soraseo declared with an air of finality.

When she said she would go out looking for food, I expected her to return with a deer, not a dreadwolf’s head. Considering our current location, it was likely the same creature that preyed on the main road.

“You are a beast,” I told Soraseo once she presented her trophy to Marika and me. The dreadwolf was a juvenile male—adult females were far larger—with jaws capable of snapping a man in two, and Soraseo still slew it on her own. A cursory look at the beast’s wound indicated our Monk had decapitated it in a single swing. “An absolute beast.”

Soraseo frowned at me. “I am confused by your statement, Robin. I am no beastwoman.”

“It was a compliment,” Marika replied. She knelt to study the dreadwolf’s fangs, whistling all the while. “I could craft good weapons from these.”

“It’s an impressive catch,” I complimented Soraseo. “How did you track it down? Dreadwolves are supposed to be invisible in the dark, and the sun has just started rising.”

“I did not see it,” Soraseo explained. “I saw the air move and the grass bend under its paws.” She lightly knocked the beast’s skull with a smile. The dreadwolf’s red-rimmed yellow eyes still glared at us in death. “The beast tried to eat my horse and tasted my steel instead.”

I wondered if she would bring us a demon’s head one morning. It would make for a nice surprise to go along with the breakfast.

“Do you want to keep any parts of it, Soraseo?” Marika inquired, her eyes alight with interest. After Soraseo shook her head, our beloved Artisan swiftly turned to me. “Want some? Dibs on the fangs.”

“They’re sharp enough, but it’s the fur that interests me most,” I replied. “Do you think you could fashion a hooded cloak from it, Marika?”

“Oh, that’s right, it would turn you invisible in the dark.” Marika chuckled to herself. “I could use my power to craft one, yes. Maybe boots and gloves too.”

I always hoped to buy an invisibility cloak one day. The good ones cost a fortune.

Wait, do I need a cloak at all? A stray thought crossed my mind as I studied the dreadwolf head. Soraseo currently owns the head and the rest of the body, or at least she should.

“Soraseo, would you mind running an experiment with me?” I asked my friend after grabbing a silver coin from my pouch. “I would like to purchase the dreadwolf’s left eye.”

“I would give it for free,” Soraseo replied with a frown, but she agreed to play along nonetheless. “I accept your offer.”

As I expected, the dreadwolf’s eye teleported out of the severed head and moved into my palm. The enormous organ weighed heavier than stone.

Experiments taught me that I could not sell a fraction of an object with my power, like half of a gold coin. However, my power allowed the transaction of divisible parts such as a body’s limbs and organs. This trade confirmed that Soraseo owned the head as far as my power was concerned.

“Now for the real test,” I said after putting the eye back in its place and grabbing a second silver coin. “Soraseo, I would like to buy the Dreadwolf’s nightly invisibility power.”

“You wish to buy the fur?” Soraseo asked.

“No. I want to buy the fur’s magic, not the fur itself.” Both Marika and Soraseo frowned at me, so I quickly provided explanations. “I do not remember attempting to separate a conceptual element from a physical object. Or at least never one with supernatural features. It should be possible in theory, since I can separate strength or skills from a living being.”

“So you could buy a steel shield’s solidity or a wood piece’s flexibility?” Marika asked. “That would be incredible, if it’s possible.”

‘If’ being the keyword there.

“I shall sell you the wolf’s invisibility for a silver coin,” Soraseo said, taking the money from my hand. My mark glowed and it teleported my silver coin back into my palm. My Merchant class voided the deal. “It did not work.”

“That’s strange,” Marika commented. “A dreadwolf’s natural invisibility is no different from a skill. So why can’t you take it?”

It confused me too. Considering my power worked according to common perception, maybe it was deemed that Soraseo didn’t own that particular feature? I quickly thought of another test to check.

I grabbed a windstone from my pooch; Mr. Fronan sold a few of them to me so I could practice soundstone crafting.

“I will sell you the wind essence held within this windstone and a silver coin as a package deal for the dreadwolf’s right eye,” I told Soraseo. “However, I will only sell you the wind essence, not the runestone containing it.”

“As you wish,” Soraseo replied without hesitation.

My power validated the transaction this time. The green-colored windstone turned pale as snow as the essence within moved to the silver coin. The metal whistled and sang in Soraseo’s palm, the magic within producing a faint breeze around it… for about five seconds before it crumbled into dust. A burst of wind erupted from its remains and carried the silver specks away.

“Seems a coin can’t hold a runestone’s worth of essence,” I said, slightly sad at losing the silver. “I get it now;”

“Why did it work this time?” Marika asked, very much surprised. “There’s nothing more conceptual than essence. If you were limited to trading physical objects, it shouldn’t have moved around.”

“Do you remember how I failed to buy a fraction of a gold coin the first time we met?” I asked her. “I believe the same phenomenon is at play here. My power considers that Soraseo owns the pelt as a whole, and the invisibility feature is one of the elements that constitute it.”

“But your runestone held the wind essence,” Soraseo said with a confused look on her face. “Why could it be split out?”

“Because the wind essence is a separate element that was grafted on the runestone itself,” Marika guessed. “When Robin transported supplies for the army, his contracts had to explicitly mention that he was buying a chest and all of its contents, otherwise his power would only transport the container. A runestone is no different from a bottle; it simply holds essence rather than be a part of it.”

“Which means I can buy and sell conceptual elements of an object, so long as they were either grafted on it or if my power considers them as individual parts that can be split away,” I said. “The same way an eye can be removed from a skull, or a gear from a clock. Both can still be considered separate objects rather than parts of a single thing.”

Marika laughed heartily. “Would that mean you could buy a dreadwolf’s invisibility from the beast itself, since they own all parts of themselves?”

“I should go find the Ranger and ask her to broker a deal,” I joked. “A final test, Soraseo. I would like to buy the silver essence from your silver coin for that eye you just sold me. Not the wind essence, mind you, the silver essence alone.”

My power refused the trade this time as I knew it would. If I bought silver essence from a silver coin, the coin would stop being, well, a silver coin. I failed to buy its solidity and flexibility too in separate attempts.

I allowed myself a sigh of relief. My plan for Archfrost involved shifting Blights around by buying them; since they were curses placed on an area, my power should treat them no differently from the wind essence filling my runestone. I managed to shift nutrients from one area to another back in Snowdrift because they are physical matter separate from the soil, so it should work. Moreover, it meant I could potentially shift skills I’d sealed into objects around, since they were separate conceptual elements grafted onto them.

However, the wind coin’s fate showed me a rather large issue with Blight acquisition: namely that physical matter could only hold so much essence. Runestones were precious because they could both hold vast quantities of it and adapt to its various strains. A Blight was a colossal quantity of negative essence large enough to stain an entire region; so much that cleaning one usually required enormous quantities of runestones and years of positive essence treatment.

I can buy a Blight and seal it in an object, but its container won’t contain it for long. No wonder there weren’t tales of previous Merchants cleaning them up with ease. Maybe they tried, only for the curse to break its designated seal almost immediately. Our best bet is to follow Colmar’s plan: use my power to transfer Blights into a single location, then destroy them with specifically charged runestones.

Thinking of Colmar, I wondered if I could move his soul into another container. Undeath had turned my friend into a ghost haunting his own suit. My power should treat Colmar’s soul the same way it dealt with essence sealed in a runestone. Such a trade would trigger my Class’ safety features, but it’s an interesting thought.

“Please don’t try to transfer essence into yourself, Robin,” Marika warned me. She pointed at the dreadwolf’s sword-shaped fangs. “Dreadwolves originally began as normal wolves infused with essence by witchcrafters hoping to create warbeasts. At best you’ll grow wings; at worst you’ll shatter like your coin.”

“Would swallowing too much wind essence make me an airhead?” I joked.

Marika let out a loud groan at my terrible pun, while Soraseo smiled ear to ear. “Oh, wind and air!” Our Monk said, very happy with herself. “I understood the joke!”

We shared a good laugh over it, then split our treasure. Marika agreed to use the dreadwolf’s parts to craft enchanted tools for us all and should have everything ready by the evening. Our troop soon rode toward Riverstone with a full belly and a clear purpose.

“Greetings, my friends,” Mr. Fronan said as he joined us atop a brown workhorse. He had been the last of us to wake up, and the black rings around his eyes suggested he still hadn’t slept enough. “My apologies for the lateness.”

“Soraseo took care of your dreadwolf problem,” I informed him. Nothing better than start a new day with good news.

“Truly?” Mr. Fronan looked at Soraseo with great interest. “Impressive feat. You have my thanks.”

“You are… welcome?” Soraseo asked. I nodded at her, which filled her with relief. “You are welcome, Lord Druid.”

“What kept you up so late Mr. Fronan?” I asked him. “You look exhausted.”

“I usually burn the midnight oil,” he replied, “and Lady Marika’s plans for an airship kept me up thinking all night long.”

“How did you find them?” Marika immediately asked with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. She shared my respect for the old inventor.

“It is an incredible discovery, a world-changing discovery. These wyverns will soon have to share the sky with us.” Mr. Fronan stroked his chin. “However, the current design greatly limits how much weight your device can carry.”

“It’s one of the hurdles we’re struggling with,” I confirmed. “So far we’ve only managed to lift a small boat’s worth of passengers.”

“I believe switching the balloon’s current design to an oval shape would help overcome that limitation,” Mr. Fronan suggested. “You see, my experiments with windstones taught me that air pushes back against objects. A streamlined oval shape will allow air to flow smoothly over the surface and thus minimize resistance; this design is also inherently strong and stable, enough to withstand internal pressure. Moreover, this shape will give more volume for hot air to fill, and thus increase the weight it can carry.”

“I am not certain I understand everything,” Marika replied. “But how can we maintain an oval shape? When hot air fills our balloons, it always defaults to a spherical shape.”

“We can implement a framework,” Mr. Fronan suggested. “Circular frames bound to longitudinal girders that run from one side of the airship to the other. The combination will form a lattice structure that is both light and strong.”

“I see,” Marika said while I partly struggled to understand his point. “Like a sea going ship.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Fronan confirmed. “The frame’s creation would require the use of specialized essence-infused metal, but it would let us increase the airship’s size, structural integrity, and operational range.”

“Producing that framework would greatly inflate the production costs,” I mused out loud, “But if it allows us to transport a ship’s weight of cargo, we could quickly cover the expenses.”

“You live up to your reputation, Lord Fronan,” Marika complimented our Druid.

“You flatter me,” the man replied politely. “This is all a theory for now. Experience has taught me that putting theory into practice presents its own set of challenges.”

“Overcoming them is half the fun,” I replied. “I believe in airships as much as soundstones.”

Besides the technology’s commercial applications, an armed airship might prove to be decisive in our conflict with the Lord of War. His beastman army wouldn’t achieve much against an enemy capable of bombarding them from the clouds above.

These would be considerations for later, however; the Moonlight Riders’ camp soon stretched before us. Tents stood in rows behind a deep ditch filled with stakes. Sentries with crossbows stared at us from under flapping battle standards and sounded a horn at our approach.

“That banner…” Soraseo muttered to herself.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her.

“That moon banner feels familiar to me,” Soraseo replied with a deep scowl. “I have seen it somewhere…”

A great shadow passed over us before I could press her for details. I looked up to take my first glimpse of the Cavalier.

Whereas her soldiers were satisfied with mere wyverns, the Moonlight Riders’ commander rode a far larger creature. A majestic bird the size of a house flew above us, its burning wings leaving a trail of embers in its wake. Its light blue feathers glittered like the hottest of flames except on the head, whose plumage followed a red and orange pattern. The avian let out a mighty screech that startled our horses, unveiling rows of sharp fangs hidden inside its beak. A large serpentine tail wagged at its back.

A firehawk.

The beast landed near the camp’s entrance, its mere touch burning the tips of the grass under its feet. My poor Mudkeep nearly threw me off her back and forced me to pet her head to calm her down. I could hardly blame her. The bird’s talons were wide enough to lift a full grown warhorse and carry it away, and it possessed a second set of claws in the middle of its wingspan.

The bird’s rider was no less fearsome. Captain Vernisla of the Moonlight Riders was a middle-aged woman wearing armor black as night and a gilded dragon helmet on her head. While she didn’t seem remarkable at first look, with short raven hair, black eyes, and a common face, her stern gaze betrayed her iron heart. Her eyes were not cold like ice, no, but sharp like a knife. A silver mark was visible between her eyes: a stylized wheel holding a hoof at its core alongside the Erebian numeral for seven.

The Cavalier stared at each of us, well past the point it became uncomfortable, though her gaze lingered on Soraseo the longest. Her fierce countenance reminded me so much of Alaire. But whereas my friend was like steel, strong yet flexible, this woman was cold as stone. She was not to be trifled with.

Still, I knew how to work with her kind: by not wasting their time.

“Greetings, Captain Vernisla,” I introduced us courteously. “I am Robin Waybright, the current Merchant and Prince Roland’s envoy. My companions are the Druid, the Monk, and the Artisan. We’ve come to parlay with your employer.”

“I know who you are,” the Cavalier replied with a deep voice and a curt nod. She stared at Soraseo with rapt attention, then put a hand on her chest and bowed in respect. “It is an honor to meet you again, Princess Mizukiya.”

Soraseo tensed up like a bowstring and became still as stone. Marika and I both glanced at her, the former a bit more surprised than me. I had long figured Soraseo was a noble of some kind from her military expertise and education. However, her rank left me speechless.

“Princess?” Marika repeated, gobsmacked.

“You did not know?” Vernisla asked, a furrow of confusion showing between her brows. “You ride with the Blood Blossom, first princess of the Shinkoku Empire.”

First princess. The Shinkoku Empire was one of the world’s mightiest nations, and women could inherit the throne as well as men. She’s not in Alaire’s league; she’s in Roland’s.

Soraseo’s jaw clenched. I could tell she briefly hesitated about denying it, but she had grown to trust us enough not to lie to our faces.

“I am a princess no longer,” Soraseo declared, her eyes looking away. “Not since…”

“Ah,” Vernisla said. “So the rumors of your banishment were true. ‘Tis a shame.”

Soraseo scowled at the Cavalier. “I do not remember you.”

“My squadron served under Lord Oboro three years ago during the siege of Hwajing. I didn’t lead the Moonlight Riders back then, but we briefly fought side-by-side.” The more Vernisla spoke, the more Soraseo’s expression darkened. “I can’t blame you for trying to forget that disaster. T’was a mistake.”

“No,” Soraseo replied grimly. “It was a crime.”

Vernisla shrugged and did not push the subject further. Soraseo fell into sorrowful silence. While Marika clearly wanted to probe Soraseo about her past, I dissuaded her with a glance. I could recognize an open wound when I saw one.

“My employer awaits you inside the first castle, Lord Waybright,” said Captain Vernisla. “I ask that you come alone, though you may bring a bodyguard.”

“Soraseo will come with me,” I said immediately. She alone was worth more than a hundred guards.

“You’re sure?” Marika asked me, before leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I know you and Soraseo can handle yourself, but the Knots might try something. ”

“I believe we have little to fear for now,” I reassured her. Harming envoys and diplomats was pretty much a universal taboo. “If anything happens to us under the banner of peace, Griselda will lose all credibility on the international stage and give Roland an iron-clad excuse to march on Walbourg. It is in her interest to secure our safety for now.”

Duchess Griselda managed to keep her lands independent from Archfrost for nearly a decade and a half. I doubted a political actor of her caliber would be rash enough to try to challenge a group of Heroes. At worst, she would try to turn us down or win us over to her cause.

After negotiating food and shelter for my troop—a request Vernisla assented to—the Moonlight Riders’ leader climbed down from her firehawk and led us inside Riverstone’s first fortress. Soraseo kept her hand on her sword’s hilt at all times. Neither did Vernisla surrender her spear, even after we passed the gates.

A few minutes later, I walked through blackwood doors and inside a small council room in the depths of the keep. A woman matching Duchess Griselda’s description awaited me at the end of a longtable, flanked by two guards.

Walbourg’s mistress carried herself with a graceful yet imposing presence. Her admirers called her the most beautiful woman in the world, and while I wouldn’t go that far, she was indeed quite the lovely sight, with serene sea-green eyes, long hair with a soft rose hue, and delicate features. Her lovely smile was too warm to be genuine though.

Her choice of clothes told me much about her too. Archfrostian nobles usually prided themselves on sober dresses, but Duchess Griselda’s sumptuous dark blue garment and delicate lace borrowed more from the Everbright Empire nobility or Riverland Federation merchant princes. I also detected traces of magic in the feathered epaulets cascading down from her shoulders and the turquoise diadem on her forehead.

Three words came to mind when I first saw her: queenly, refined, and dangerous. A dagger cloaked in silk. Unlike with Vernisla, I immediately decided a courteous approach would work best.

“Lady Griselda,” I said as I kissed the gold ring on her hand. “Tales of your beauty do not do you justice.”

“Those speaking of your wily tongue certainly do, Lord Merchant,” the duchess replied with a melodious chuckle. Clearly, she had done her research too. “Please, continue to flatter me.”

“I would need to know you more to find the right compliments,” I replied lightly. “I must commend you on your choice of dress. I haven’t seen a sea silk dress since I left the Riverland Federation.”

Duchess Griselda gave me a quizzical look as she invited me to sit at the other end of the table. “I am surprised you could tell at first glance. You must have frequented the Riverland nobility with assiduity.”

“I did, once upon a time.” I sat on a rather comfortable leather chair with a good amount of feathered cushions. Soraseo loomed behind me, the same way Vernisla took position behind her mistress. “While I thank you for your hospitality, I expected to meet with you in Walbourg rather than a border fortress.”

“This meeting will determine whether or not your delegation will reach my citadel at all,” the duchess replied. “I would delight in hosting Heroes, but I do not wish to waste time with powerless envoys or worse, spies.”

Going for the throat already? “If I were a spy, I would have gone through your window instead of the front door.”

“Some used grappling hooks to climb my castle’s walls once,” Griselda mused. My jape drew a smile from her, though it did not reach her eyes. “I do appreciate that Prince Roland sent a delegation rather than an army. I expected a more forceful response to my ill-advised support of his uncle.”

“I must admit I wonder what you were thinking,” I replied. “Surely you must have realized that backing the Knight in a war was the winning proposition.”

“Not for me. The Regent was the only one offering to recognize my duchy’s independence, whereas his nephew made no mystery of his intentions. I know Roland will march on Walbourg as soon as he ascends to the throne.”

I smiled. “Then why did he send me?”

“To ask for our unconditional surrender, I suppose,” the duchess replied with the same playful tone. “I hope to be wrong. He did send the Merchant rather than the Inquisitor, so I assume we can at least exchange pleasantries before he besieges my home.”

“Whether or not Archfrost besieges you is entirely up to you, milady.”

The duchess’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “So you do not deny Prince Roland considers invading Walbourg.”

“The option is on the table,” I replied bluntly. “I would like to resolve this peacefully, but if we fail to find common ground, you will find yourself facing the Knight rather than the Merchant. And you will lose.”

“Prince Roland’s father said he would take back Walbourg in a moon’s turn,” the duchess replied with tranquil confidence. “He perished in front of this castle’s walls and we have held the line for fifteen years since.”

“King Chernoglav could not split open stone walls with a swing of his sword, nor did he benefit from the Everbright Empire’s support.” If the marriage with Therese went through at least. “While you have a Hero on your side, Roland can field many more than you.”

Vernisla scoffed behind her mistress, but did not comment on my boast.

“This may be true,” Duchess Griselda said before resting her head on her hand. “But only so long as your group leaves the border.”

I sensed Soraseo tense at my side and answered the veiled threat with a serene smile. “I would suggest against trying to kill us,” I warned the duchess. “You will fail.”

“I suggested nothing of the sort,” the duchess replied with aplomb. “A good Merchant should always listen to competing offers, should you not?”

“A better Merchant stays true to his word and employers,” I countered. “But you can indeed give me a better offer. You can choose to have Walbourg reintegrate into Archfrost peacefully.”

“A difficult decision to swallow.” Duchess Griselda joined her hands together. “His father murdered my husband, and many of my followers perished–”

“I don’t care,” I said.

My words took the wind out of the duchess’ sails. “What?”

“I don’t care,” I repeated. “If Roland’s father indeed killed your husband, then he got what he deserved over a decade ago when he perished under your walls. Prince Roland had nothing to do with these events.”

“He is his father’s son and carries his grudge.”

“Roland was three years old when your husband was assassinated,” I countered. “Unless you think a toddler can arrange a murder?”

I had taken Griselda aback. “Of course not–”

“I don’t care which side of this dispute has the moral high ground,” I interrupted her, pressing her advantage. “I am here to find a compromise that will avoid yet another bloody war and thousands of pointless deaths. Roland sent me to negotiate because he’s willing to let bygones be bygones for his kingdom’s sake. If you’re half the ruler you pretend to be, Lady Griselda, then you will behave the same.”

The duchess studied me carefully. Her tone was noticeably harshened from how it was before. “I preferred it when you flattered me.”

“And I preferred it when you did not sling veiled threats at me or my allies,” I replied with the same tone. “I’ll be blunt. Do you want peace? If not, then we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

“I would rather settle on a peaceful resolution,” the duchess conceded. “However, our issues with Archfrost run deeper than what happened to my late husband. Until they are resolved, I do not see how we become one nation again.”

I studied her face carefully. “Are you familiar with the Knots?”

“I am,” the duchess replied; something which only half-surprised me. “The organization subtly supported Walbourg through intermediaries soon after my husband’s death.”

“By providing golems?” I asked coldly.

“Among other things,” the duchess confirmed. “They believe we do not know of their existence. They officially act under the guise of some radical Reformist sects and revolutionary groups, but we are aware of their true allegiances. We simply haven’t been able to purge them yet; not with Archfrost threatening us.”

“Demons are worse than any other threat,” Soraseo said sternly. She glared at Vernisla. “You should know better.”

Vernisla shrugged. “Keep your friends close and your enemy closer. We’ll wipe them out in due time.”

“Do not misunderstand me, Lord Merchant, Lady Monk, I understand perfectly what kind of danger demon worshipers represent,” Griselda defended herself. “However, between the need to maintain internal peace in the face of Archfrost might, the Purple Plague, and the tensions between the Reformists and the Arcane Abbey, I simply could not marshall all my resources into purging their influence. I do not think I can fully focus on them until we achieve peace with Archfrost.”

“If you know of the Knots, then you should be aware of how they operate,” I said. “Their acts always follow the same playbook: they set different parties against each other, then profit from the conflict.”

“You imply that they staged my husband’s murder.” Griselda shook her head. “I can assure you that it is not the case.”

“How so?” I pushed, deeply skeptical.

“Do you take me for a fool? I have done extensive research on the circumstances of my husband’s death. The truth is that the Knots only became involved after his murder in an attempt to profit from it. They stumbled upon a crisis and quickly seized their opportunity.” The duchess sighed sorrowfully. “Unfortunately Lord Merchant, not all crimes are committed by demons.”

“I remain doubtful,” I replied. I needed more time to investigate. “However, if we were to achieve peace, would you do your utmost to wipe the Knots out?”

“Yes, without hesitation,” she confirmed. “It is partly why I supported the Regent. With peace at my borders, I could mobilize troops and resources into hunting down demonic cults. For now, I can only allocate a fraction of my duchy’s might to this particular case.”

So far so good. “What are those issues that keep Walbourg in open rebellion?”

“Those have not changed in fifteen years.” The duchess smiled thinly. “My husband and other southern lords first formed an alliance against King Chernoglav’s rule over taxes. Archfrost’s southern territories are its richest and most developed lands, yet we have always bore a greater burden when it came to finances than the northern lords.”

“These same lords are the first line of defense against beastmen invasions,” I pointed out. “The king reduces their taxes in exchange for their military service.”

“And still, does he not expect us to send our sons and daughters to fight for them when required? We might be less exposed and take more time to mobilize, but we always answered the call to arms.” The duchess did not wait for my response. “The truth is simpler, Lord Merchant. The royal family has always favored the northern lords that fuel the core of his army and surround his capital, so our voices went unheard.”

“Hence your husband decided to stop paying his taxes in protest,” I said, having studied the subject.

“King Chernoglav tried to woo me beforehand, and I denied his advances,” Griselda added. “I suppose he ordered my husband’s murder to get him out of his way, both politically and romantically. The king thought his death would strangle our movement in the crib.”

“Instead you took up your husband’s cause and successfully repelled the old king’s attempts to bring you to your knees,” I replied. “At a great cost of lives and wealth.”

“Some things are worth dying for, Lord Merchant. As a Hero, I am sure you understand it well.”

“I do,” I conceded. “So, from what I’ve gathered, you want fairer treatment and equal taxation with the northern lords?”

“We are well past beyond matters of wealth and finances, Lord Merchant,” Griselda replied. “The capital and the northern lords still do not respect us. Their attempts to enforce our submission through force prove it. We southern lords prefer trade and diplomacy, but Archfrost only respects strength. Moreover, we favor the Reformist faith while Prince Roland’s divine right to rule derives its legitimacy from the Arcane Abbey’s support.”

“Hence why Roland sent me to smooth over your differences.” From our discussion, I was already seeing ways to proceed. “You want respect. To be heard. Prince Roland can give you a voice in his government when he ascends to the throne.”

“Even if he does, which I sincerely doubt, it won’t be long before his successors go back on their word.” The duchess’ mouth tightened. “The way the kingdom is set up naturally strengthens the northern lords’ influence. Many times has a king shown us favor in the past. It never lasted.”

“I was thinking of a more…” I stroked my chin, letting the silence float between us for added effect. “Institutional solution.”

Duchess Griselda was an excellent diplomat, but I had become excellent at reading subtle body cues. I saw the light of surprise in her eyes, the subtle scowl of skepticism, the slight hints of doubt.

“The northern lords will never accept a reform,” she said. “Not to mention Prince Roland.”

“The lords will agree to a reform if they benefit from it too.” Now that I had a foot in the fortified door, it was time to bring out the ram. “You are a wise woman, Lady Griselda. You must see the historic opportunity before your eyes. The new ruler of Archfrost is the Knight, the most chivalrous of all Heroes. You are dealing with the only king in the world guaranteed to put the common good above his own.”

“Mayhaps,” she conceded. “But Roland has no child yet. If he dies, the crown will go to his more traditionalist uncle Sigismund. He will put a halt to any reform in a heartbeat. We don’t have any guarantee any of Roland’s heirs would stay true to his word.”

“True, trust is a fickle thing.” I joined my fingers. “That’s why humans invented contracts.”

Duchess Griselda gave me a searching look. “What do you have in mind, Lord Merchant?”

“Prince Roland gave me authorization to broker a deal with Walbourg,” I reminded her. “As the Merchant, the contracts I write are inviolable. My power will enforce an agreement. If you are worried about war, I can easily sell you the monarchy’s ability to wage war on Walbourg as well as Walbourg’s right to wage war on the royal house. This will bind you and your successors.”

Such a contract would probably require a lot of clauses to work, but I believed my power could allow it. While it couldn’t force actions as they included a risk of failure, it could deny the contracted the ability to act in a certain way, like lying.

“Here is my proposition,” I said. “I will hear you and your followers’ grievances and suggestions, then exchange with Roland to broker a peace treaty. He won’t budge on everything, but he is reasonable—” Most of the time. “—and I am confident I can secure his agreement if you also agree to compromise. Then I can draft a contract reform for all of you to sign and which my power will enforce.”

I held her gaze.

“A social contract,” I concluded.

The duchess considered my proposal for a very, very long moment. I had guessed her answer before she opened her mouth.

“You are a bold soul, Lord Merchant,” Duchess Griselda said with a spark of amusement. “Would you and your companions consider accompanying me to Walbourg? I am thinking of summoning a conclave of all the southern lords.”

“Only if you pay for our travel expenses,” I joked.

When she laughed back, I knew I had won this round.

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Next Chapter 

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A/N; phew, we're back to the main plot! I admit last few chapters felt a bit meadering to me but things will kick up soon.