Chapter 105
“Two hundred pigs died in transit! I’ll secure replacements as soon as possible!”
“Two thousand chickens secured! We’re still short by 350 ducks, working on it!”
“We don’t have enough velvet pouches for the side events! We’ll need at least two more people to make them on time!”
Cledwyn had been right—preparations for the harvest festival had to start early.
Preparing the festival program, special bonuses for workers, distributing those bonuses, writing the guest list, sending invitations, handling the replies… The work never ended.
At least the apple festival and fireworks, part of the annual harvest festival, could be referenced from last year’s records.
The problem was the tournament.
Despite Cledwyn’s matter-of-fact instruction, tournaments weren’t usually held here except as part of special commemorations. The last central tournament on record was thirty-five years ago, and even those records weren’t very detailed.
So Nerys, in charge of overseeing the harvest festival, had to agonize over everything—how big the event should be, what the prizes ought to be, how many places should receive awards, how participants should be chosen, and so on.
Even if she asked Cledwyn—the one who’d come up with the tournament idea—he simply replied, “Just do as you see fit. I’m sure it’ll go well.”
How could he be so vague? Nerys was annoyed, but Cledwyn remained ambiguous.
‘Does the tournament itself matter more than the details?’
If there was no specific vision and he just wanted a “tournament” for its own sake… Why? What was he thinking?
To match his aims as closely as possible, she put in an enormous effort to plan the event. And once she had a rough outline for the whole festival, she ran around gathering every resource—people and materials—needed to make it happen.
Thankfully, there were plenty of capable people around. Nerys was grateful for old Rex Bronson’s presence, and for the total cooperation of the central officials.
“If there’s nothing to be done about the pigs, do your best to find replacements, and if not, we’ll have to change the menu.”
“Poultry is a must for a traditional Maindulante feast, so while you’re getting ducks, also look for quail or turkeys just in case. What? They’re all sold out?”
“Probably nobody has extras right now. I’ll approve extra hires, so look into it.”
Maindulante had many vassal lords, and once you added their families to the number traveling to the capital, the total multiplied quickly. And then there were the guests coming just to see the tournament.
Fortunately, Nerys had plenty of experience hosting large crowds, both as crown princess and as a diplomat in her past life. If not, she would have burned out long ago from the workload and constant surprises.
Head maid Ellen handled many problems on her own with great skill. But there were things no human effort could solve.
“Fecernon had no harvest this year because of the flood disaster…”
“That last elder the duke punished burned everything down…”
If the usual suppliers couldn’t deliver, there was nothing to be done—money couldn’t fill empty plates.
So she had to find new sources for every shortage: meat, fish, flour, butter, silk, velvet, and more.
But wasn’t the list of shortages a little too long? Was it always like this in autumn here?
‘How did they manage last year?’
In the middle of all this chaos, Nerys was puzzled.
“What should we do, my lady? All the inns in the town below the castle are full. We’re still twenty-two rooms short for guests we’re obliged to house. We may have to put them in the garden.”
“What did you do last year?”
“There weren’t as many guests. Twice as many people are coming this year because of the tournament.”
Mystery solved. Nerys frowned.
“The west wing has plenty of rooms—can’t we open them up?”
“That’s not possible. For your mother’s safety, my lady. We can’t let strangers come and go…”
“You’re right. Then contact Lord Hilbrin and have him allow use of the vacant noble estates. Also check their condition and capacity…”
Hilbrin would be eager to help. Ellen clapped her hands in delight.
“That’ll work! But then we’ll need to furnish those houses too. We can’t just loan them out empty.”
Ellen’s face darkened again.
“Can we really procure all the supplies we need in time?”
“It’ll be fine. I can get them.”
“Oh, my lady. Did you make arrangements already?”
Nerys nodded confidently. Just then, someone knocked at the office door.
“My lady.”
“Come in.”
Butler Gilbert entered, his face alight.
“My lady, a merchant from the southern company you ordered from has arrived. So many wagons! Did you place this order?”
“Yes.”
If the north was short on supplies, she’d just bring them in from the south. Normally, it was better to support local merchants, but with nothing available, it was better than taking from the people.
“The one who brought the goods wants to greet you in person. Shall I show them in?”
“Yes.”
Ellen hurried off to prepare tea. When Gilbert opened the office door wide, a young woman appeared beyond it.
An energetic, honest, and clever face—now shining with self-confidence and happiness, so different from when they’d first met years ago.
Joan Moriér bowed with a bright smile.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Thank you for last time.”
Once Ellen, who had brought the tea, and Gilbert, who needed to check the goods, had left, Nerys spoke quietly to Joan, now alone together. She was thanking her for sending Moriér Merchant Group’s wagon drivers during the Fecernon flood rescue.
Joan, one of the most watched young leaders in the continent’s trade world and head of the Moriér Merchant Group, found Nerys, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time, fascinating.
A child who’d been more clever than most adults even when she was young. The girl who exposed the plot of Nualan MacKinnon and Angelo Rayling to protect her friend, and in the process, had even saved Joan.
Now she was fully grown—surrounded by a weighty, brilliant aura many times greater than before.
Since that incident, Joan’s life had changed completely. From a girl who used to handle dirty work under a cruel master, destined to be cast aside someday, she was now running a rapidly growing merchant group.
It was all thanks to Nerys, who had given her courage and entrusted her with great responsibilities. Whenever Joan said so, Nerys would simply answer, “You did the hard work, not me.”
After the disappearance of the Angelo group, Joan worked for about a year and a half with the MacKinnon Merchant Group.
The Count and Countess MacKinnon, as well as Joyce MacKinnon, had been excellent superiors, and the group’s size gave Joan a wide variety of work experience.
But at some point, Joan realized she wasn’t the type to work under others forever—she wanted to take responsibility and try her hand in the wider world.
That was why she accepted Nerys’s offer to “work together.”
People tried to dissuade her from leaving such a good job and starting a business with little capital, but Joan’s gamble paid off.
Thanks to the wildly popular wedge pouches, the Moriér Merchant Group raked in money by the handful. Joan invested those earnings into developing pharmaceuticals made from the wedge pouches and other ventures and was now reaping the rewards.
Nerys, who first offered goods and capital and suggested “let’s work together,” was, nominally, a business partner. But both knew the truth.
The real owner of the merchant group was Nerys; Joan was the professional manager, running a group that belonged to Nerys.
Joan handled the practical sales and management, but the business concepts were all Nerys’s. Nerys provided the goods, picked the initial target market of socialites, and whenever Joan, unfamiliar with the aristocracy, had trouble dealing with noble clients, Nerys either provided solutions or introduced someone who could.
So, the Moriér Merchant Group had a separate owner and manager. How could sending a few people at the owner’s request be something to thank her for?
Besides, thanks to that summer’s events, Moriér now had the foothold it needed to expand into the north, so Joan should be grateful.
“It was nothing, my lady. All the animals, grains, and household goods you requested were secured safely. I brought extra in case some spoiled during the hot trip north, but almost everything arrived in good condition.”
“Anything left over, you can just sell. Here’s your merchant group’s operation permit.”
Lords had the right to decide whether non-residents could conduct business in their domains, and Maindulante was no exception, with various complicated rules on outside merchant groups.
Nerys handed over the operating permit she’d prepared in advance for Joan’s visit. Joan’s face lit up with delight as she received it.
“I didn’t know if I’d actually get something like this. I’d heard it was hard for outside merchant groups to get permits here.”
“The permit itself isn’t hard to get. It’s just that since Maindulante can provide for itself, there’s little point in importing goods at higher shipping costs. Didn’t the taxes go up when you passed through the Tipian Marquisate?”
“Oh, they did. I thought the tax collector was just being territorial with a new group, but is it always like that?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Merchants don’t have much choice, do they?”
Cledwyn’s secret routes were only known to a handful and couldn’t be used by regular merchants, especially not with large wagon trains.
So, the Marquis of Tipian imposed a heavy tax on anyone who had to pass through his land to reach Maindulante. If you didn’t want to pay, you were welcome to try another route.
As a result, Maindulante’s market had grown stagnant. The same merchants always sold the same goods. It wasn’t a real problem since people could provide for themselves, but—
‘Without competition, things go stale.’
Of course, commerce in Maindulante should be centered on its own merchants. Still, an honest, reasonable competitor from outside was better than a monopoly—provided the competitor dealt fairly.
Joan, honest and reasonable, happily tucked away the permit. Nerys and Joan chatted about what they’d been up to.
By the time they’d emptied a pot of tea, someone knocked at the door.
“My lady, Lady Denver has arrived.”
“Oh, she’s early.”
Lady Denver was one of Maindulante’s vassal lords. She rarely visited the capital except for the harvest festival each year. Nerys set her teacup down and stood.
The first guest had arrived.
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(T/N: Still not back to a regular upload schedule, but I’ll be uploading at least 5 chapters per series every week, in order based on the most recent series I picked up. No fixed days yet, but I’ll keep the bulk uploads coming as best as I can!)
