Chapter 21

The next morning, Seth sat at his desk, his gaze unfocused, drifting out the window as he mulled over the events of the previous day. The Dreameater infiltration still unsettled him. Despite Royfield managing to capture a lead, the identity and motives of the person behind the creature's appearance remained a mystery. The more Seth pondered, the less sense it made, and the ominous absence of clarity grated on his usually composed mind.

Outside, rain poured down, an unusual sight in the summer months. Heavy droplets streamed down the glass, and gray clouds blanketed the sky, casting a muted, somber light over the estate—a fitting reflection of the unease Seth felt within.

Across the room, Claire watched the lord's blank expression as he stared into the downpour. Gathering her thoughts, she approached his desk and spoke softly, "My lord?"

Seth gave no response. She tried again, her voice a bit firmer, "My lord?" Still nothing. It wasn't until she called him a third time that he blinked, his attention finally snapping back to the present.

"Ah—sorry…" he murmured, his tone distant.

The unexpected apology caught Claire off guard. She blinked, surprised, thinking to herself, So he does apologize? Every day I work here, he somehow manages to surprise me.

Clearing her throat, Claire held out a stack of neatly organized documents. "My lord," she began, "I've completed the revisions to the estate's tax policy and developed a solution to compensate for the lost tax revenue."

Seth straightened, focusing his attention on her as she continued her explanation.

"With this new policy," Claire began, "the people will benefit from reduced taxes on essential living expenses. To ensure our treasury remains stable, we'll reallocate revenue to focus on trade items and local product purchases. This will help create more sustainable revenue streams."

She paused, scanning his face before adding, "We'll apply lower taxes to locally sold products to keep them affordable for our residents. However, the challenge now is that we lack trading partners, and Arlecia itself doesn't have many products to offer in trade."

Seth nodded thoughtfully, silently impressed by her thoroughness. He didn't even reach for the documents; he trusted her judgment and grasp of the estate's needs. Arlecia's resources were limited, but the landscape, with its mountainous terrain and unspoiled nature, held potential if managed properly. He'd already hired farmers to try rehabilitating the forgotten forest, the charred land slowly reclaiming some life.

After a contemplative pause, an idea took shape in his mind. He looked at Claire with a hint of intrigue. "What if we developed Arlecia as a haven for relaxation?" he suggested. "A place where people from afar could come to rest and escape for a while."

Claire's eyes widened, instantly grasping the potential. "That's an excellent idea, my lord! We could establish a hospitality business, collaborate with local residents, and create new jobs."

Her expression turned thoughtful as she added, "But to make it successful, we'll need something that attracts travelers in the first place. Do you have anything specific in mind, my lord?"

Seth considered this. Though the natural beauty of Arlecia was captivating, it wouldn't be enough to draw travelers on its own. The idea of a simple retreat sounded nice, but it lacked that pull to make it memorable. He shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

"Not at the moment," he admitted. "For now, let's focus on implementing the new tax policy."

Without a second thought, he picked up his stamp and pressed it to each document she'd laid out, a series of resounding seals marking his approval.

Claire watched in disbelief as he stamped each page without skimming a single one. She fought back a sigh, her expression a mix of exasperation and humor. He didn't even review my work. Honestly, I feel like crying, she thought.

Gathering the approved files, she headed for the door, her thoughts still lingering on the unreviewed documents. She handed them off to Royfield for distribution, knowing that every new policy or law would be posted on the town's central bulletin board for public awareness.

The new tax policy announcement stirred mixed emotions among the people of Arlecia. Many were grateful, seeing the reduction as an act of mercy from their lord, a sign that perhaps he was finally paying attention to their struggles. Yet others were wary, viewing it with suspicion, their memories tainted by years of harsh treatment under the previous baron.

Is this just another ploy? they wondered. Another temporary reprieve before harsher policies set in? The pattern seemed too familiar, and not everyone was willing to trust so quickly.

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Meanwhile, at the Raven Guild headquarters, a rather unremarkable yet tense scene unfolded. An elderly man, round in figure with a perpetual scowl and a cigar wedged firmly between his teeth, entered the guild accompanied by a few burly attendants. His footsteps were deliberate, each step carrying an air of entitlement and irritation as he made his way toward the inner offices.

Upon entering Killian's private office, the old man stopped and fixed a sharp gaze on the guild leader, puffing out a thin cloud of smoke that seemed to linger heavily in the air.

"Ah, Raven Guild Leader," the man greeted him with a toothy, forced grin. "Still running your little operations, I see."

Killian's expression remained impassive, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't hide his displeasure at the sight of the man, though he kept it carefully masked behind a steely calm. He hadn't looked forward to this visit, but he knew it was necessary, arranged on behalf of Lord Arlecia to secure a vital partnership. The man before him was Anthony Gustman, head of Nix Merchant, a powerful and influential guild with a monopoly on trade across much of the western continent of Arden.

Gustman surveyed the room with a look of casual disdain before speaking. "So, where is this 'Lord of Arlecia'?" he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Last I saw him, he was an ignorant fool with no head for business. In all my years, I've never seen a noble so inept in the ways of trade."

Killian remained silent, letting the man's words hang in the air. He knew the old man's criticisms weren't entirely unfounded; the previous baron had indeed been incompetent in managing his affairs. But this current Lord Arlecia, the one he now partnered, was different. Killian found himself oddly curious about how Gustman might react to Seth's transformation.

Killian's voice was level when he finally responded, ignoring the old man's biting tone. "The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning, as arranged. The lord has matters to attend."

Gustman scoffed, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "Matters to attend to," he repeated with a smirk. "I'm sure they're important, yes?" He glanced around the office, unimpressed, before shrugging. "Fine, then. I'll wait."

Killian's gaze remained steady, though he felt a hint of irritation prickling at the man's arrogance. Nonetheless, he extended an offer. "Since there's little in the way of comfortable lodging in town, you're welcome to stay here at the guild until tomorrow. We have prepared accommodations for you."

Anthony Gustman's expression softened slightly, a greedy glint appearing in his eyes. "Very well, I suppose I can't refuse such hospitality," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "After all, I'm here for business... and profit."

As the door closed behind Gustman and his entourage, Killian's neutral expression faded, replaced by a subtle smile. He leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting to the impending meeting with Lord Arlecia. The thought of Seth, the "little rabbit," as he sometimes thought of him, attempting to negotiate with a hardened merchant like Gustman was amusing. Killian's eyes sparkled with a hint of anticipation, almost hoping for the lord to falter just enough for him to intervene and save the day.

"Let's see how well you fare, Lord Arlecia," he murmured, his smile widening.

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Back at the castle, Seth stood by the window, watching the storm clouds gather in the distance, thickening the already-gray skies. The downpour had continued through the afternoon, drenching the fields and casting a gloom over the estate. Seth's mind, however, was focused on something else.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he called, turning to see Royfield enter and bow respectfully.

"My lord, you called for me?"

"Yes," Seth replied. "Any news from Aiden?"

Royfield gave a slight nod. "Sir Aiden and the knights have arrived safely at their destination. They plan to return within the week."

A faint smile touched Seth's lips. "Good to hear," he replied, relieved.

After a brief pause, he continued, "Royfield, prepare my attire for tomorrow. I'll be making a visit to the Raven Guild headquarters. Also, inform Claire that she'll be accompanying me and select a few knights to form an entourage."

Royfield nodded, bowing again. "As you wish, my lord."

With that, Royfield left the chamber, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone once more, Seth crossed over to his bed and sat down, letting his thoughts drift to the impending meeting with the Nix merchant. He reclined, his gaze drifting toward his raised hand, still covered by the blindfold. He flexed his fingers, watching the faint flicker of energy that seemed to hum beneath his skin.

Seth could already imagine the sort of person he was about to face. Nix Merchants, particularly Anthony Gustman, were infamous for their greed and unyielding pursuit of profit. Gustman was a name he recognized well from the novel—a powerful merchant whose empire would eventually crumble. Still, for now, Nix held influence over a vast trade network, and that network was key to expanding Arlecia's economic reach.

A smirk played on his lips as he imagined the meeting. I'll secure a deal, he resolved. He'd come prepared to negotiate, but he wasn't naive. If things didn't go according to plan, he would use every tool at his disposal to ensure the merchant guild agreed to his terms.