Chapter 18
A Rich Fool
A new bill had been proposed in the House of Commons.
It sought to impose tariffs on ships passing through the Ezra Canal, with particularly harsh retaliatory taxes aimed at imports from the Kingdom of Douchata.
“No matter how you look at it, this policy is targeting Devonshire.”
At Daniel’s report, Leonardo pressed his fingers against his temple and slowly closed his eyes.
So this is how Aunt intends to play it.
The bill had been proposed by Representative Günter, one of Sir Cunningham’s men.
And behind Sir Cunningham stood Adelhardt II herself.
“The Kingdom of Douchata is an eastern superpower that controls the Halsbon trade port. I can’t understand why Her Majesty would provoke an issue that could escalate into an international conflict. Frankly, it feels reckless.”
“And yet,” Leonardo asked calmly, “you don’t believe it will fail to pass?”
“Well… that is…”
Daniel trailed off uncertainly.
Reckless or not, it could still be forced through.
Adelhardt II was exactly the kind of ruler capable of doing so.
More importantly, if the bill passed, the family that would suffer alongside Devonshire most severely was Rosenberg.
Which meant the Queen had every reason to push it aggressively.
Ultimately, what Her Majesty wanted was simple:
For the two families to reach an agreement and resume construction of the railway.
The reason she was revealing her intentions so openly was because this was a warning.
This is only the beginning.
“To think competing so fiercely for shares in the Ezra Canal would come back to poison us…”
Realizing the severity of the situation, Daniel’s face darkened.
An endless chain of emergency meetings, mountains of paperwork, and sleepless nights now loomed before them.
Of course, Devonshire and Rosenberg were not the only ones who would suffer under the bill.
But faster, more flexible trade companies would simply seek alternate routes to avoid the tariffs.
In the end, the people left shouldering catastrophic losses would be the ones holding ownership in the Ezra Canal itself.
Damn it.
Finishing his thoughts, Leonardo slowly lifted his gaze.
He had to resolve this somehow before the conflict spiraled completely out of control.
“Book me the earliest train to Kelt.”
Fresh birdsong echoed brightly through the summer gardens.
Within the peaceful rear gardens of the Imperial Palace, Adelhardt II and Duke Trie were enjoying tea together.
“Do you believe the two of them will truly reconcile?”
“Even by rough estimates, the losses from the Ezra Canal will rival the total investment required for the railway construction. They’ll have no choice but to wave the white flag eventually.”
Watching Adelhardt II speak with absolute confidence, Duke Trie let out a thoughtful hum.
Taking a sip of tea, the Queen tilted her head slightly.
“What is it? Something troubles you?”
“Not exactly…”
Trie looked up toward the blue sky.
The complete absence of clouds felt strangely unnatural.
Would the empire’s two greatest businessmen truly move according to her wishes so obediently?
So far, Heinz and Leonardo had behaved predictably enough—both requesting audiences with Her Majesty one after another.
But…
“Neither of them shows any sign of negotiating with the other. They keep knocking only on the palace gates.”
“If we continue refusing them, eventually they’ll be forced to sit down together.”
“Perhaps. But I’m not entirely certain Leonardo will move as expected…”
“….”
Instead of reassuring him, Adelhardt II found herself wearing a similarly troubled expression.
Her nephew was not easy to handle.
Perhaps he had inherited too much of his father’s blood—the kind that would rather die than lose.
Still, perhaps testing the waters a little would not be such a bad idea.
“Your Grace, you cannot do this. Her Majesty is currently occupied.”
At that moment, the voice of a servant standing some distance away drifted toward them.
Turning their heads, the royal couple spotted Leonardo staring directly at them from beyond a line of attendants blocking his path.
And of all times, he had arrived while they were taking tea in the garden.
Anyone looking would assume they were completely idle.
“It seems we can spare a moment. Let him through.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At Adelhardt II’s command, the attendants immediately stepped aside.
Walking between them, Leonardo finally approached the troublesome ruler he had been trying to meet for days.
A cold smile curved his lips.
“You seem quite healthy.”
“I have no idea what you mean by that.”
With graceful ease, Leonardo pulled out a chair and sat down.
He did not look remotely like a man arriving with urgent business.
“I feared you might have fallen terminally ill after refusing to see me for several days.”
“Ahem. Your words go too far.”
The stern voice belonged to Duke Trie.
But Leonardo did not so much as blink.
“What has gone too far is the abuse of power from the two of you.”
The maid pouring tea into the newly arrived duke’s cup trembled visibly.
Leonardo watched the stream of tea quiver at the tip of the silver pot before speaking again once she retreated.
“I heard heavier taxes have been imposed upon goods from the Kingdom of Douchata.”
“It appears that is simply the will of the House.”
Adelhardt II answered calmly, pretending not to understand his accusation.
Devonshire Trading Company, which conducted extensive business with Douchata, had taken a devastating blow from the bill.
Ships departing from Halsbon Harbor would be forced to take an impossibly long detour if they could not use the Ezra Canal.
“It would only be fair to withdraw at least that measure.”
For someone making a request, Leonardo’s attitude remained remarkably arrogant.
Lifting her teacup decorated with the imperial crest, Adelhardt II smiled serenely.
“I possess no such authority. Why not try persuading the members of the House yourself?”
“Ah.”
So that was how she intended to play this.
Leonardo had already attempted to contact the representatives.
Yet somehow every last one of them had suddenly become impossibly busy.
A hollow laugh escaped him.
Then, as though truly joining their leisurely tea gathering, he lifted his own cup and savored the fragrance calmly.
“It seems Your Majesty wishes for Devonshire to yield.”
“Even aside from Count Rosenberg, there is no rich fool willing to fund the entirety of that endless railway branch alone. You should admit that the board’s decision carried retaliatory intent.”
“Like the current situation?”
Rather than answering, the Queen merely smiled softly.
Listening to the dangerous exchange between aunt and nephew, Duke Trie wisely remained silent.
Truly, blood would tell.
Looking at the identical fierce gleam in their eyes, it was obvious neither side had any intention of backing down.
“I wonder how much longer your father intends to delay this marriage.”
Ariel glanced briefly at Margarete, who had been pacing restlessly around the room, before lowering her eyes back to her embroidery frame.
She was carefully stitching flower stems with green thread in an effort to calm herself, though in truth her condition was hardly any better than her mother’s.
The marriage was being postponed indefinitely.
And realizing that yet again the center of the problem was the conflict between Devonshire and Rosenberg made her feel as though her insides were burning black.
“How busy can company affairs possibly be?!”
“Mother, this matter is more serious than usual. If the bill proposed in the House passes, both Devonshire and Rosenberg will suffer enormous losses.”
Without lifting her gaze from the embroidery, Ariel explained seriously.
But moments later she sensed something dangerous in the air and slowly looked up.
Margarete had stopped pacing entirely and was glaring sharply at her daughter.
“Ariel.”
“…Yes?”
“You’ve been secretly reading the newspapers again, haven’t you?”
Caught directly in the act, Ariel’s lips stiffened.
Margarete narrowed her eyes.
“How many times must I tell you? Newspapers are for men! Excessive education only harms a woman’s chances at marriage!”
“If that’s the case, then you don’t need to worry anymore. Valentin doesn’t think badly of it.”
“Anyone hearing you would think you’re already married! Do you know why I haven’t slept lately?!”
Her shout thundered through the drawing room just as Heinz entered looking utterly exhausted.
“Father.”
Ariel rose quickly to her feet.
“Ariel, listen to me.”
“What happened? Is there any sign things will improve?”
Margarete had not even begun her lecture properly, yet she still failed to draw Ariel’s attention away.
“Did you speak with Duke Devonshire?”
It was not difficult to guess what Heinz had been doing while rushing around tirelessly outside.
Meeting with the Queen and Duke Trie.
Contacting members of the House.
And above all—
Attempting negotiations with Leonardo.
Will things between him and Father only become worse from here?
In the middle of her pointless worries, memories from the day she had been trapped in the library surfaced without warning.
That had been the last time she saw Leonardo.
The man who had quietly immersed himself in a book with an expression of deep concentration.
Who had grinned mischievously at her anxious face like a teasing boy.
Who had caught her securely when she leapt from the window with her eyes squeezed shut in fear.
Such an irritating man, constantly leaving unfamiliar memories behind.
Suddenly she wondered what sort of days he had been living since then.
Whenever she saw photographs of the cold, brilliant businessman in the newspapers, it felt almost like she had shared a midsummer night’s dream with an entirely different person.
“That damned bastard. The fact he hasn’t shown even a shadow of himself means he’d rather die than negotiate.”
Watching Heinz grind his teeth bitterly, Ariel’s gaze wavered uneasily.
“You could ask to meet him first, Father.”
“If you know nothing about negotiation, then stay quiet! The one who approaches first loses!”
His sharp retort cut through the room.
From head to toe, Heinz radiated tension and fury.
That alone proved how dangerous the family’s situation had become.
And yet even now, he had no intention of taking a single step backward.
The feud between Rosenberg and Devonshire truly was legendary.
Grinding his teeth, Heinz spat coldly,
“Soon enough, we’ll meet in court anyway.”
