Chapter 47. Guano
Fortunately, contrary to my worries, no one objected to the Rosso Bank shares I received from Lady Chioggia.
In fact, the Duke of Veneto welcomed my involvement with Rosso Bank.
He considered me a capable person.
And compared to having his daughter-in-law from the powerful Saxony Territory control the shares, he apparently felt less threatened by having his grandson-in-law from the still-weak Marcel Territory own them.
So I ordered Diego, Chief of Economy, to attend a meeting of Rosso Bank’s board before returning home.
“Diego, go to the board meeting and get the proposal for ‘Establishment of a Marcel Branch’ approved.”
“Will that be possible with only a twelve-and-a-half percent stake?”
“I already discussed it with the Duke of Veneto.”
The Duke was a dominant shareholder.
With his support, approval should be easy.
“My lord, you keep attracting companies without difficulty, while I still haven’t produced any results.”
“If you manage to attract even one Mage Tower, that’ll be a huge success. Don’t get discouraged already.”
I patted Diego on the shoulder.
He had been contacting Mage Towers located throughout the Franche Kingdom for some time, trying to persuade them to move to Marcel.
Unfortunately, every one of those attempts had failed.
Mage Towers that were already comfortably established in the capital had no reason to relocate.
“I’ll return to Marcel as soon as the board meeting ends. We need to get back before wheat sowing begins.”
“All right. Once you’re done, I’ll send the Benedikta immediately.”
I had become lord of Marcel during the autumn harvest of the previous year.
Already, spring planting season was approaching.
That was another reason I needed to return quickly.
* * *
When they heard I was returning to Marcel, the Duke of Veneto and his family were disappointed.
However, they were also busy preparing for spring planting, so they understood why I was in a hurry.
In particular, Viscount Chioggia owned enormous wheat fields, so he left the entire wedding preparation to me.
“Viscount Marcel, I’m sorry to dump all the preparations on you.”
“The wedding is being held in Marcel, so naturally I should prepare it.”
“I’m glad you understand. I don’t want an extravagant wedding, so please make it as simple as possible.”
“That is exactly what I would prefer.”
“Thank you. I will also bring the child who will act as the substitute bride.”
My actual bride had not even been born yet.
So we needed someone to stand in during the ceremony.
Apparently, Viscount Chioggia intended to choose that person himself.
“Do whatever is easiest.”
“Do you have any preferred appearance?”
What the hell was this man saying?
Why would the appearance of a stand-in matter?
Seeing my confused face, Viscount Chioggia laughed.
“Ah, I was planning to choose one of the commoner girls.”
He had gone insane.
The people of this world really had thrown human rights into a stew and eaten them.
For a fake political marriage, they actually intended to send me a real bride.
By force.
Of course, for me, it was simply troublesome.
I almost rejected the barbaric consideration outright.
Then I changed my mind.
“In that case, send me one of the orphans cared for by the church. Preferably an intelligent child.”
If I had to receive a fake bride anyway, I might as well use it for propaganda.
I could create a story about an orphan girl who received my protection, ate well, dressed well, and grew up happily.
The image of a merciful lord worked everywhere.
Perhaps realizing my intentions, Viscount Chioggia smiled.
“As expected of Viscount Marcel. Understood. I’ll prepare someone exactly as you wish.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Since both of us were busy, I declined a formal farewell and headed directly to the harbor.
I boarded the Benedikta and gave the order.
“Adrien Assel! Let’s return to Marcel!”
“Yes, my lord!”
I had squeezed so much benefit from Veneto that it almost felt like I was returning home in triumph.
Naturally, the voyage home felt satisfying.
* * *
The pirates from Cagliari had all been branded as slaves and returned to work aboard their former ships.
Most pirate ships were converted into cargo vessels.
Several of those merchant ships soon arrived at Menorca in the Balearic Islands.
Bird Droppings Island.
One sailor stared at the island and sighed.
He complained to the man beside him.
The island was covered in seabirds.
The smell was terrible.
Workers made up of former pirates and bandits were ordered to begin digging.
“Only put the hardened bird droppings into the sacks!”
“Yes!”
Perhaps because of their slave brands, the workers answered loudly and immediately picked up shovels and pickaxes.
The birds watched them without fear.
They had never been harmed by humans, so they apparently saw no reason to be cautious.
One worker stared at the countless migratory birds and seagulls flying overhead and constantly dropping waste.
“They really shit like rain around here. But what the hell are we going to use all this crap for...?”
He returned to silently digging out hardened chunks of guano and putting them into sacks.
* * *
Since it was the beginning of the farming season, everyone in the territory was busy.
I toured Marcel’s wheat fields and checked the preparations for planting.
Administrator Ricardo and Witch Winnie accompanied me.
Ricardo confirmed my instructions.
“My lord, so... you want us to plow the fields deeply? And spread powdered bird droppings?”
“Yes. Ask if there’s something you don’t understand.”
“Forgive me. I don’t understand any of it.”
I borrowed a hoe from a farmer and dug into the ground, exposing dark soil beneath.
“Look. You need to plow at least this deep so the nutrients below can reach the crops. If you plow too shallowly, the soil near the surface contains much less.”
Most of what I knew about farm work from my previous life came from watching my grandfather.
Still, as the saying went, even a dog that spent three years at a village school could recite poetry.
I had picked up quite a variety of agricultural knowledge.
