Chapter 304 - 275: The Winery’s Business (Part 2)

Chapter 304: Chapter 275: The Winery’s Business (Part 2)

"But that old fellow just said its production is limited," Valentine reminded him with a frown.

"Limited?" Theodore chuckled. "Hasn’t the business with the Merlot Clan taught you anything about the true nature of these merchants? To make even a sliver more money, they’ll stir up trouble, hoard goods to drive up prices, and call black white. They’ll deliberately claim production is low when it’s perfectly fine."

"I’ve already offered him double the purchasing price, which should be more than enough. If that old man still doesn’t get the hint, well, I’ll just have to resort to other means," the Third Prince said, elegantly raising his glass and taking a sip of red wine. "My principle is simple: I’ve shown you favor, so you’d best be sensible. If you reject that favor, then I see no reason to be sensible myself."

"Though, if we had just locked that Shire fellow up for a while before turning him over to the Kingdom Public Security Bureau, we probably wouldn’t need to resort to these messy tactics," he said, his tone tinged with regret as he glanced sideways at Valentine.

"You know I wasn’t clear on what was happening at the time. The man simply vanished into thin air." Valentine swirled the red wine in his glass. It was much fuller than before, and he moved it carefully, afraid of spilling even a drop—just as cautious as the words he was speaking.

"I understand. Things in this world don’t always go as planned. But there’s one thing I am sure of," the Third Prince said, suddenly breaking into a brilliant smile. "Our partnership isn’t like those of the damned merchants. Ours is a political one."

The Count glanced at Theodore’s deceptively harmless smile and returned it with one of his own. "Of course. A political partnership."

He raised his glass. "To our partnership."

"To our partnership," Theodore echoed.

The two men drank, still smiling, but there wasn’t a trace of genuine mirth in their eyes. They both knew that in politics, self-interest is king.

"That Duke of the North should be arriving soon, yes?" After taking a sip, Valentine set down his glass. He hadn’t finished his wine. For one, the amount one drank was a matter of aristocratic etiquette; they weren’t like the "lower class" who guzzled and gorged themselves in country taverns. For another, leaving some wine was a message for Theodore. ’I don’t fully trust you yet. You’re still on probation.’

"Based on the travel time, it should be in the next day or two." Theodore glanced at the glass on the coffee table, then began to twirl his own with amusement. "Interested in meeting him?"

"He’s different. He owns a large winery elsewhere, and his shop manager here in the Royal City was arrested. I doubt he’s willing to see his manager simply rot in a jail cell."

"So the Duke of the North will likely make a few moves to secure sales channels for his wine, much like those merchants and their discount promotions," Theodore said with a smile.

"A pity the local wineries aren’t too keen on his forces moving in." Valentine crossed his arms and leaned back, settling comfortably into the sofa. "It’ll be difficult for your little winery to survive, caught between those two giants, won’t it?"

"Even if I didn’t get into the winery business, I wouldn’t last long," the Third Prince said with a laugh. Shaking his head slightly, he added, "Those two are bound to go at each other’s throats. But before that, I’m sure I’ll be the first bottle of bad wine they pour down the drain."

Count Valentine let out a soft sigh. He understood what Theodore meant. With the Eldest Prince and Second Prince vying for power, both would tacitly agree to eliminate the third brother first. It wouldn’t matter even if Theodore screamed from the rooftops that he had no ambition. His identity, his status, his very bloodline—that was his original sin.

Situations where the two eldest fought and the third ended up dead first were all too common throughout history.

And as a Border Count, he was in no position to get involved in the conflict between the two elder princes. This was also why the young Third Prince could afford to be so theatrical in his presence, and why Valentine couldn’t just slap the boy across the face.

’Everyone is putting on an act. Everyone wants to prove their use in this whole "winery" affair.’

"Alright, I understand." Count Valentine nodded. "However, when the Duke of the North arrives, I expect I will still pay him a visit. So many nobles are in Plantagenet City, with more summoned from all over. From the perspective of etiquette, it is the proper thing to do."

"Of course. Etiquette. A noble’s dignity." Theodore smiled and extended a hand, flourishing it twice in the air. It was the gesture one made before inviting a lady to dance, though it was meant to be followed by a bow. But since he remained lounging carelessly on the sofa, the formal gesture carried a hint of mockery.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Count Valentine said, patting his knees. He pushed himself up from the sofa using the armrest. "I still have to go to the Royal Administrative Bureau, so I shall take my leave."

"Then I won’t see you out, my Lord Count." The Third Prince, Theodore, once again donned the aristocratic ’mask’ he had worn when speaking with Uncle Musa. "You may visit often, if you have the time. But I’d advise against it. You see, I have a fondness for raising birds... especially pigeons and hawks."

"Raising birds is a fine hobby. It suits you," Valentine said with a nod. Then, with a flick of his robes, he turned to depart.

"Won’t you take some with you? You can have the whole bag," Theodore called out, stopping him. He pointed to the Red Bull on the coffee table, his gaze sweeping over Valentine’s slightly graying temples.

"I have no need for that sort of thing," Count Valentine said, puffing out his chest and striding proudly out of the reception room.

"Heh. Northern barbarian," the Third Prince sneered under his breath. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Red Bull Powder. ’I thought the support from my family wouldn’t be enough to realize my ambitions, but it seems a new opportunity has presented itself.’

He didn’t rise. Instead, he let the powder fall from his hand and pressed a call bell on the side of the coffee table. A moment later, a guard knocked and entered the room. "Your Highness."

"Assign more men. I want that Island Merchant, Salumu, watched closely. At the same time, send a few people to follow him. See if they can find a way to the Archipelago."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"By the way, about the missing Agatha I had you look into... any news?"

The guard hesitated before stammering, "My apologies. The Adventurer Association just says Miss Agatha is on leave and didn’t specify her destination. We’ve questioned many people, but we haven’t found any trace of her whereabouts."

SMASH! Theodore hurled his wine glass to the floor, the sound of shattering crystal echoing in the room. "That bastard... to just disappear off the face of the earth! How badly does she want to avoid being my Magic Consultant?"

He clenched and unclenched his fist several times, muttering "Poodle... Poodle..." under his breath.

The guard stood ramrod straight beside him, his body tense, not daring to utter a peep.

Theodore quickly regained his composure. He looked at the guard before him, instinctively comparing him to the one who had been with Valentine. "My apologies. I lost my composure."

"No, you have no need to apologize, Your Highness," the guard said, bowing immediately.

"In that case, you all can go out and hunt," the Third Prince said with a brilliant smile, looking for all the world like an innocent child.

The guard’s expression soured at his words, but after meeting the Prince’s eyes, he nodded vigorously. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Go on. Don’t get caught. After the hunt, it’s the basement of the corner tower, as usual."

After the guard bowed and hurried away, Theodore stared at the Red Bull before him. The smile on his face slowly twisted into a sinister grimace, and his whole body began to tremble.