Chapter 54: Foundational Experience (Patreon)

“He has changed somewhat,” Godfried said as he and Viviene watched.

In the distance, Willem bashed Arend’s shield of aura with the pommel of his sword while the man was brought low by the sheer ferocity.

“Gotten better, I think,” Viviene said.

“Obviously. A little cleaner,” Godfried said. “He used to use his aura to blind me when we sparred until I learned how to combat it.”

Viviene couldn’t help but wince at the use of the word ‘cleaner.’ She’d been around Willem and Gustav far too long for any mention of something like cleanliness to pass by unnoticed.

“I yield!” Arend shouted evenly, crouching low.

“Already?!” Willem dispelled his aura and backhanded Arend in the face. “What was that? Where was that drive you had yesterday?! Try and kill me, damn it! Do I need to describe in detail some of the things I did? Get up!”

Arend hesitantly got back up, and manifested his aura again. Willem said some truly awful things—foremost among them accusations of incest, doubtless designed to incite rage in his foe. They worked, and Arend started fighting again.

“…some things don’t change, I see,” Godfried noted. “Why didn’t he do this at Gent?”

“He wasn’t feeling himself,” Viviene said cryptically. “And besides, all of this turned out for the better. We wouldn’t be here without that choice of his. Arnoud claimed that his actions saved House Brugh.”

Godfried crossed his arms and nodded. “What’s his aim with Arend?”

“Willem wants to hire him as a bodyguard,” Viviene said, and Godfried looked at her incredulously. “Perhaps his natural assumption is that hiring someone that wants to kill him will ensure he has someone that considers all possible approaches.”

Godfried snorted. “What’s his aim in the capital?” He turned. “Does he genuinely want to win the competition?”

“He wants the same thing he always wants these days,” Viviene said. “More gold, obtained via business alone. The only way he’ll take the princess’ hand is if there’s a business partnership between them.”

“…and what’s your aim?” He looked at her. “I know you, mother.”

“I want to keep my family whole.” She looked back at him. “And if the opportunity arises… enlarge it.”

Godfried took a deep breath and sighed. “I might’ve expected as much.”

“It’s overdue,” Viviene said. “And there’s seldom an opportunity as good as this one to find potential brides for you boys. Unfortunately, it probably means we’ll have to deal with my uncle a great deal.” She sighed, troubled. “What about you? Your time off is precious, yet you’re here.”

“Arend,” Godfried said. “He’s my friend. Someone has to take care of him.”

Arend received a kick to the face and tumbled away, dropping his weapon.

“Looks like he’ll need much care,” Viviene concluded.

***

“This event is the opportunity of a century, Willem,” Baptiste Dubois said, sitting across from Willem in one of the private dining areas of the Verdant Spring Guesthouse. He ate a steak.

Today, Willem was the Trust Fund Tactician. He was the Cousin-in-Cash, the Property Predator, the Estate Eagle; a distant relative, but close to riches.

To spare Viviene’s peace of mind, Willem had made sure that she wasn’t present for this meeting. He wanted to get a good sense of Baptiste’s character so that he could work out the best possible way to bilk the man of all of his money. In his past life, he’d been subject to countless relatives angling to inherit his wealth. He had a wide slew of strategies to call upon. Some of them had very nearly worked on him. Baptiste, as old money, was naturally arrogant and complacent. It was a lot easier to get them to spend willy-nilly.

“Are you listening?” Baptiste continued.

“Of course,” Willem said, nodding intently. “But I’ve never learned anything while I was talking. I wanted to absorb what you had to say fully.”

“Ah… a rapt student,” Baptiste said knowingly. “Or a sycophant. Either is fine with me, frankly, because we’ve a lot of ground to cover today. In the following months, dynasties could rise or fall because of what happens.” He sawed off a cut of steak and chewed it elegantly.

He’s cynical, and has a high opinion of his intelligence, Willem noted. Those people are the ones you can scam long-term. They think they’re too smart to be scammed, and stay in denial for a long while. Excellent.

Once he’d finished chewing, he continued, “All of the grandest houses from around the kingdom will assemble. In particular, I’m certain the four grand dukes will attend, myself being one of them. None of their direct scions are involved in the contest… only one involved—Valter von Sturmbann—even comes from one of the grand ducal houses. He was chosen because he excelled in the Cabinet, not because of his house name. He’s from a distant branch, entirely unrelated to the present Duke of Sturmbann. So why are these bigshots attending, Willem?” Baptiste waited a few moments, and then said, “Because even if the people involved don’t win the contest… they will nevertheless be elevated to extreme prominence.”

Willem nodded along. He supposed it made sense—if this was a competition meant to isolate the single best candidate to rule the kingdom, the person that got second place surely wouldn’t be someone that would be disregarded. Doubtless Arnoud, or another, would recruit him for a grander purpose.

“From my information networks throughout Ravenveld, the vast majority of the candidates come from three places,” Baptiste continued. “The first is the Arnoud Military Academy. The second is the University of Ravenveld. The third is the Cabinet.”

Baptiste chewed another cut of steak, swallowed, and then continued, “The first two were institutions that Arnoud himself established for the education of the common people. They’ve been a tremendous source of talent for his expansive bureaucracy and personal armies. They’re highly meritorious, highly effective institutions. The Cabinet already did teach based on merit alone, so it’s in quite the similar vein. I must admit, it’s a mark of quality if a knight came from the military academy or a bureaucrat from the university.”

He begrudgingly likes merit. It seems like his position and prestige come first. He’s selfish, and likes to own things personally. Willem thought for a bit, and then came to a conclusion. I need to use the old cheese under a basket technique. Bait him in with cheese, then slam the basket over his stupid head. He has to walk in willingly, or he won’t walk in at all.

“Owing to the simple fact that nobles have more resources, the majority in all three institutions are all nobility of varying degree,” Baptiste continued. “Some are merely the son of lords or barons. Nevertheless, you’ll face only the most skilled of opponents. Even I can’t say for certain what King Arnoud has in mind for all of you. That’s why I’m willing to settle for scraps, rather than the feast.

“The Duke of Sturmbann will be in attendance,” Baptiste continued. “They’re a family well-attuned to magic, so securing a marriage might be challenging, but I have it on good authority the youngest daughter of the duke, Gabriele, will be coming with them. There’s the daughter of the Duke of Usman, Yasmine—his only child, and thus heir to the Duchy of Usman. That would certainly be a prize. I’d even be willing to arrange a marriage between you and my daughter Victoire if you impress me sufficiently.”

Willem rubbed his hands together uneasily. He was glad that this man didn’t actually have the authority to arrange a marriage without his consent. “I suppose even the cattle that don’t win the livestock exhibit have to go somewhere,” he said.

“Livestock exhibit,” Baptiste repeated. “I quite like that. But whatever you call it… the whole world will be taking notice of the results of this event.” He pointed with his fork. “I’ll have some things to handle on my end, but I’ve brought an incredibly capable aide with me. Eleanor. She’ll serve as a point of contact between you and me. And she’ll teach you the finer points of etiquette, which you seem to need help brushing up on.”

Ugh. He’s fobbing me off with his executive assistant, Willem realized. I never realized how annoying this is being on the receiving end. I miss being an insufferably rich prick.

“I’ll look forward to seeing what she can do,” Willem replied.

***

King Arnoud sat in the privy, reading. One could get a lot done in solitude like this. When he’d finished, he set the documents aside, looking around the room. He spotted something rather out of place. It was a light blue bar. He reached out tentatively and took it. It read in bold, ‘SOAP,’ and had a little diamond in the center of the O.

Arnoud squinted at it, confused. Who put this here? I didn’t ask for this.

***

Willem was guided into a warehouse, where several people unloaded crates from the back of a carriage. Gustav, who’d been overseeing the process, was alerted that Willem was here by the one that had been guiding Willem. Gustav turned from his task and walked up to join him.

“Willy boy,” Gustav greeted amiably. “Glad you’re here. Got butterflies in my stomach, maybe you can purge them.”

“Why?” Willem asked, looking around. “Unless you’ve a strange diet, there’s no reason for that.”

“We’ve made a lot,” Gustav said. “If the demand isn’t here…”

“I’ll make the demand,” Willem said. “You just handle production and shipping, and give me some people that know how to make deals.”

“Hoo…” Gustav exhaled. “I don’t know. This is just a big gambit.”

“Not really,” Willem disagreed. “Look. We’ve got some of the richest people in the entire kingdom congregating here in the coming days. I’ve been to every single guesthouse that’ll host these nobles, and chocked them full of soap bars. On top of that, I’ve got an advertising campaign ready to go. I’ve scouted out the competition, and it’s all so meager that it barely deserves the title. The only thing I’m worried about, Gustav, is not having enough ready.”

Gustav thought for a few minutes, then gave a somewhat subdued nod. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll get back, get more soap curing.”

“That’s the ticket,” Willem said encouragingly, patting his shoulder. “Say hello to the wife and the mutt. And Dirk, too, I suppose. Oh—and ask Catharina if she wants me to get anything for the baby on the way.”

Gustav gave a confirmatory nod and then left quickly. Willem looked throughout the warehouse, taking in the sights. They had a good product, a good environment, good prep work, and a good promoter. Willem wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he worried about not having enough ready. Willem had been a part of countless product launches and expansions in his day. And all considered…

This promised to be the best one he’d ever done.

***

Baptiste took off his coat, tossing it onto his bed. Something fell out of it and clattered on the ground. He looked over ponderously, and then bent down to pick it up. He flipped it over. It was a bar of soap—the same kind as the one he’d tossed out yesterday.

Why is this here? Baptiste wondered. He tried to think back, wondering if Willem had even come near him at all during their lunch. He shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. Maybe I didn’t toss it out.

He tossed it aside somewhere uncaringly, assuming that the staff would find it, and then moved to the privy. He passed by the wash basin… but then paused, turning his head. There was another bar of soap there. He walked up to it, somewhat unnerved, and picked it up. How could Willem possibly have gotten this in here?

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