"Please come this way, Your Highness. We truly apologize for such an improper welcome, but the Count has been bedridden for weeks and therefore unable to receive you in the main drawing room."
The Prince nodded and followed the attendant, ignoring the inquisitive gazes of the house staff. Beside him, a young lady walked silently, sheepishly staring at his profile, thinking he was unaware of the blush on her face.
"I'm sorry for arriving so suddenly, Countess. I am sure this is a very difficult time for you with your husband's illness."
"Pardon? Oh... Yes, my... Husband has not been faring too well as of late. But do not worry, Your Highness, we are devote servants of His Majesty. How could we turn down your request to come when you are under the King's command?"
"Thank you, Countess Evernon. You are truly a gracious host."
The lady blushed even further, feeling her giddy heart skip a beat after falling prey to his warm, brown eyes.
The Third Prince was a man of tall stature and lean build, outfitted with exquisite silks and elegant jewels, he looked like he was ripped out of a fairy tale. He was used to being surrounded by women's attention. However, his strict etiquette schooling forbade the gentle smile to fall from his lips, regardless of the disdain he felt inside.
He knew his father was upset at the fact that he didn't join the war like his brothers, but he couldn't refute his mother since she fell ill for a month after his elder brother's death three years ago. The battlefield was ruthless to both princes and peasants, and it was quick to nip the bud of the brightest flower in the royal garden.
The absence of the crown prince was felt all around the kingdom, plunging the palace into the utter chaos of another succession battle.
Lukas had already given up his dreams of grandeur, resigning himself to rule over a large territory once his brother took the crown. But now, with the royal concubines smelling the blood in the water and seeing the chair empty once more, his grieving mother had made it her sole goal to see her offspring sit on the noblest position again.
Gone were his leisure days in the library; and the security around him rose as much as the attempts to breach it did.
Just when he thought he would not be able to hold off the court's pressure for him to have him join the battlefield as well, his father had handed him this task to secure the business that would bring cheaper grain to the kingdom.
Had it been a last gift to his mother out of the dying embers of their stale love from when their youth? Or was he being tested in his diplomacy skills for the future? He did not know, nor did he care. All he knew was that this was an opportunity, and he would be a fool not to take it.
He finally reached the master bedroom of the castle, which opened to reveal the withering Count.
"Your Highness! Welcome to Evernon Castle! I apologize for not being able to stand in your presence, but as you see, some rats managed to sink their claws in my guts and I ended up in this state."
"Hello, Count Evernon. I deeply apologize for disrupting your recovery, but His Majesty the King urged me to come speak with you."
"Ha ha! Don't worry Your Highness! I am truly glad someone finally saw the potential in my business endeavor. I must be blessed that His Majesty took an interest in this small vassal."
The Count grinned, splitting his pale, cracked lips. Despite his shining eyes, the bones protruded from under his skin as it was being pulled taut by the weight loss since he fell ill. His hair was thinning, and the combination of the dark half-moons under his eyelids and the wheezing air that escaped his lips when he spoke made it evident that they were in the presence of a dying man.
'The situation is much more dire than I thought. This county is days away from loosing its master, and all the crumbs will be eaten away as soon as it happens. This business must be secured as soon as possible.'
Although his mind was creating such a dark image, the Prince didn't let it show, planting a pleasant smile on his face instead. Looking at the dead man straight in the eyes as he lied through his teeth.
"Please let me express His Majesty's deepest wishes for your speedy return to your normal duties, Count Evernon. This commercial fleet of yours will prove to be a real help for our Kingdom, especially in such trying times."
"Thank you, Your Highness. It won't be long before I get up from this bed! I'm sure of it!"
"I commend your strength, Count Evernon, but I do not wish to interrupt your rest any further. Is there an assistant of yours with whom I could discuss things further?"
"Why would you need an assistant, Your Highness? I'm right here! I'm more than happy to speak with you for as long as you need."
It took his best effort for the Prince not to grimace. This man was refusing to accept the fact of his impending death, and he didn't seem to have any preparations for when the time came. If things continued like this, the business would soon fall into the greedy hands of the northern court and die out before the ships even sailed.
'We must take over this operation as soon as possible.'
He looked to his side where the young Countess couldn't even meet her husband's eyes. There was no care in them for her bedridden spouse, only discomfort and fear. How young had she been when they wed? She looked a bit older than his younger sister did now, and it was clear to the eye that the Count didn't hold his wife in high esteem either.
The couple reminded him of the never ending parade of 'marriable' daughters the nobles continued to push onto his face as soon as they had the chance. Some of them hadn't even come of age yet, being younger than him by a decade at times.
He shivered and brought himself back to the current conversation.
"Alright then. Could you please delve into detail about this newest business venture?"
With excitement, the Count recounted the whole process of the creation of the business, stopping only to cough drops of blood into a handkerchief before continuing his rambling with bloody lips. The Prince listened, nodding while confirming the information he had received prior to traveling here had indeed been correct.
"It was really a smart move to put the taxation rights under the crown given the current state of the county."
"Ah, that was one of the requirements of that bastard of a partner-"
"Partner? The business is not solely your own?"
Lukas leaned forward in interest. If there was another person involved maybe this business would not be completely doomed after all.
The Count seemed to have eaten something sour at the recollection of that insolent brat and her shy master. He didn't know which of the two irritated him more.
"Yes. Mr. Laurier. Although I'm not entirely sure that is his name. I guess it must be since he signed the contract under it, but I don't really like the fact of having to talk with a raggedy brat instead of a man of culture."
"A child?"
"That coward didn't want to face the court head on, so he uses a girl to convey messages to me. I was the same with the negotiation."
"And how much of the company does this partner own?
"Uh... Well... Fifty... Fifty percent."
"Fifty? Then he is a relevant agent to this conversation. Where can I find this proxy of his?"
"She was hiding in the Duke's harem for a while, but recently we received correspondence from Mr. Laurier stating that they would be out of reach for some time. The bastard must be hiding from those rats. They are vicious, I tell you. Took a bite out of me as soon as they had the chance."
"So, you have no way of contacting this Mr. Laurier?"
"Well, my assistant must know. Ron is the man I put in charge of the business in my absence. Laurier also agreed with him taking care of everything. He only put down the capital and made sporadic requests here and there, but the management falls completely on our side."
"And where is that assistant right now?"
"In Vinoa, overlooking the construction of the commercial fleet."
No longer interested in speaking about his annoying partner, Count Evernon picked up his recount of the process that drove him to having the idea of trading grain with the Empire where the Prince had interrupted him before, but he no longer had the attention of his audience, as the young man was focused in another subject now.
After their talk was over, Lukas called one of his attendants over while he walked out the door of the residence.
"We must go to Vinoa as soon as possible."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Just as he was making his way to his carriage, another one pulled in front of him, bearing the coat of arms of the Duchy of Laurendt.
The Duke himself stepped out, appearing quite winded.
"Ah, Your Highness! I managed to greet you in time! You should have told us you were coming to the north. We would have prepared a warmer welcome."
Watching the greasy man bow his head, the Prince was quick to understand the reason for this sudden rendezvous.
'All these nobles care about is the gold in their castles.'
His gentle smile still didn't falter.
"Duke Laurendt! What a pleasure it is to see you! I would love to stay and chat, but I'm afraid I'm running on a tight schedule. I'll be sure to pass by Singre on my way back."
"On your way where, if you don't mind me asking, Your Highness?"
"Well, Vinoa, of course. We wouldn't want anything to happen to this flourishing business we have in your territory, now would we?"
Although the Third Prince was smiling, his eyes were as sharp as knives, leaving the Duke no place to retort. His intentions had been seen through. It was already too late.
"No... Your Highness. Please, go ahead. I will be waiting for your arrival back at Singre."
"Thank you, for your comprehension, Duke Laurendt. I'll be sure to make it up to you when I visit."
The Duke looked at the leaving carriage until he could not see it anymore. Only then did he allow the fury to reflect on his visage. With flared nostrils and a red face, he yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Where is that damned Count?!"