Chapter 111

Chapter 111. Nightmare (2)

The person who betrayed Jeremy and hid Count Perrier's two sons was the Head Butler.

No.

The Head Butler had never been on Jeremy's side in the first place.

He believed it would be impossible to stop Jeremy's coup when Jeremy had the royal family and Eric behind him.

So he had planned to watch for an opportunity, then flee with the Count and his two sons.

As long as they stayed alive, there would always be a chance to reclaim the family and territory one day.

But instead of a coup, assassins appeared.

The Head Butler had no time to save everyone.

He abandoned the Count, grabbed the two sons, and escaped through a secret passage.

For the time being, he decided to flee to his hometown in the Lowlands.

There was no one he could trust.

* * *

Meanwhile, a gloomy atmosphere hung over Perrier's lord's residence.

The Count was dead.

His two sons had disappeared.

The Head Butler was gone as well.

Jeremy arrived after receiving the news and immediately claimed the missing heirs had been kidnapped.

The Knight Order also judged kidnapping to be entirely plausible.

Since Jeremy was the only known member of the Perrier bloodline still present, he was provisionally appointed Acting Lord.

Acting Lord.

Not Lord.

The Knight Order decided that a new lord could not be selected until the bodies of the Count's two sons were found or their fate was otherwise confirmed.

The Administrator objected.

But with a funeral that needed to be held immediately, there was only so much he could insist upon.

Jeremy had already been warned by Eric about what might happen after the assassination.

He privately summoned the Knight Commander.

"Commander, I have a proposal."

"Give your order."

The Knight Commander emphasized the next words.

"Acting Lord Jeremy."

Jeremy's stomach twisted.

The man was making it clear that unreasonable orders would be refused.

Still, Jeremy hid his feelings behind a smile.

"This is not an order. It is a proposal."

He sat down.

"Please don't judge it immediately. Think carefully about what I say."

Then Jeremy made his offer.

If Jeremy became the official lord, he would grant the Carcassonne Barony to the Knight Commander.

That was something Eric had instructed him to offer.

The Knight Commander stared at him in confusion.

"Why would you give me that land? Baron Carcassonne is still alive and perfectly healthy."

"For Perrier to become wealthier and a better place to live, we must drive out Toulouse's influence."

Jeremy spoke calmly.

"And Baron Carcassonne is Toulouse's pawn."

"So?"

"Help me remove him."

Becoming a noble.

Receiving a barony.

The Knight Commander's greed stirred.

"Hmm."

Then he narrowed his eyes.

"What do I have to ignore in return?"

Jeremy answered.

"The Perrier family will become the vassals of Count Eric Marcel."

The Knight Commander's eyes widened.

For a moment, a knight's honor overcame his greed.

He grabbed Jeremy by the collar.

"You!"

Jeremy gasped.

"Calm down. Hear me out."

"You aren't even a noble!"

"I know!"

Jeremy grabbed the man's wrist.

"I know it isn't honorable. But look at reality!"

The Knight Commander glared.

"How long are we going to live as Toulouse's dogs?"

Jeremy's voice grew stronger.

"Wouldn't it be better to rely on Count Marcel and make Perrier a wealthier, better territory together?"

The Knight Commander's grip slowly loosened.

He knew Eric's reputation.

In barely a year, Eric had transformed Marcel into a prosperous territory.

More importantly, he had become famous as a merciful lord.

Jeremy continued while the man was wavering.

"If I become lord, you will become Baron Carcassonne."

Then he added another lure.

"And I will distribute manors to the knights."

"What?"

The Knight Commander frowned.

"We don't have enough farmland for that."

"We will."

The canal project would bring development.

New land would be cultivated.

And once Toulouse's influence was removed, there would be plenty of property to redistribute.

The Knight Commander fell silent.

Jeremy smiled.

He knew he'd won.

* * *

The royal palace of Le Capital.

Count Calais, the king's father-in-law, stormed through the corridor.

These bastards are going too far!

They're cutting off provincial lords' heads whenever they feel like it!

He had a reason to be furious.

In the past, Court Count Chatillon had killed the lord and heir of the Corse Margraviate.

Then, using the royal family's name, he had sent a viscount directly into the territory and installed him as lord.

Provincial nobles had exploded in anger.

Even nobles in the capital joined the protest.

At the time, the Queen Mother promised that such a thing would never be allowed to happen again.

Now Count Perrier had lost his head.

On the surface, it looked like Jeremy Perrier had voluntarily offered the county to Count Marcel.

But wasn't that merely covering the sky with one hand?

Count Calais naturally believed the Queen Mother had broken her promise.

He had already requested an audience.

The moment he entered the reception room, he shouted,

"How could you do this?! You made a promise!"

"Please calm down and sit, Count Calais."

"How am I supposed to calm..."

He stopped.

"What is that?"

Count Calais pointed at the cups and utensils arranged on the tea table.

"This is a tea called coffee that Count Marcel sent me."

The Queen Mother gestured toward a chair.

"I'll prepare some for you, so sit first."

"Ahem!"

Like many nobles, Count Calais had a weakness for tea and sweets.

More importantly, the cups on the table were clearly new Royal Marcel products.

Naturally, his eyes were drawn toward them.

He sat.

The Queen Mother placed aromatic roasted beans into a device and turned the handle.

Grind, grind, grind.

Anyone could see that the roasted beans were being ground into powder.

She placed the powder inside a linen funnel.

Then she slowly poured hot water over it.

Drip, drip, drip.

Whenever foam rose, she stopped.

Then she poured again.

Eventually, a black liquid formed.

The Queen Mother poured it into a new cup and handed it to Count Calais.

"Try it."

He smelled it first.

"This aroma is unusual."

"Isn't it?"

"It's nutty, with a slight oily scent. And somehow it feels as though my head is clearing."

"I fell in love with the scent too."

"There is a slight barrier to entry, but I imagine it would become comforting once one grows accustomed to it."

Count Calais took a short sip.

He smacked his lips.

Then he took a longer drink.

His eyes widened.

"Ho."

He stared at the cup.

"This is extremely unusual. What did you say this tea was called?"

"Coffee."

The Queen Mother smiled.

"Do you like it?"

"Hmm. Coffee."

He took another sip.

"Where do you buy this?"

"The Fatima Dynasty has a monopoly on production, and Count Marcel has exclusive distribution rights. That's what the envoy told me."

Count Calais's expression stiffened.

The person he hated most at the moment was Chatillon.

Eric came second.

I suppose I can move him lower on the list.

After all, the original sin belonged to the Chatillon family.

Count Marcel was merely doing what he was told.

By the time he finished the cup, Count Calais no longer particularly disliked Eric.

Once I return, I'll send him a letter immediately.

He wanted coffee.

And some of those cups.