King to King

Norn looked at Baldwin skeptically. Seeing the earnest expression on his face, he let out a wry smile and said, "Your Highness, you're not joking, are you? I'm only 12 years old!"

"That's not an issue. We can arrange an engagement now and hold the wedding when you turn 15," Baldwin replied almost immediately, clearly having already thought through the matter.

Norn pondered for a moment, then, looking at King Baldwin, he voiced the question that puzzled him the most.

"Your Highness, may I ask, with so many talented young men in the kingdom, why did you choose me?"

"Norn, it seems you haven't fully grasped your current standing!" Baldwin chuckled lightly. "In my eyes, among the kingdom's talents, aside from myself, you are the only one."

Norn feigned humility on the outside, but inwardly he thought: What a familiar line.

"In terms of martial prowess, you've personally taken to the battlefield, rescued the kingdom's forces at Ascalon, slain Saladin's nephew at Montgisard, and bested Saladin at the Yabok River. These feats alone prove you are the bravest of the brave."

"But... at Montgisard, it was my subordinates who did most of the work! Especially Sassan, it was her fearless dedication that truly made the difference," Norn felt it necessary to give credit where it was due.

Sassan, who was on the rooftop, shook her head helplessly: This clueless Norn!

"No matter. Leading your men well is also a mark of a good leader. Moreover, having a Hashashin loyal to you to the death is further proof of your excellence," Baldwin nodded approvingly. Norn's modesty in claiming credit only added to Baldwin's favorable impression of him.

Baldwin continued, "In terms of wisdom, you've accurately identified the kingdom's flaws and have your own ideas. This shows you have limitless potential."

"In terms of wealth, you came from a remote area and not only didn't spend money but became a wealthy merchant in just three years. If you had a kingdom, within a decade, your name as a rich man would resound throughout the entire world of the Lord."

"In terms of fame, your kindness to mercenaries has spread your reputation for generosity along the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. With a single call from you, you could easily hire tens of thousands of troops."

"In terms of connections, you have good relations with both major knightly orders, the Patriarch speaks highly of you, the middle-ranking nobles all wish to be your allies. Even Duke Reynald, that mad dog, has shown you considerable goodwill."

"I had my doubts about the rumors, but after visiting your manor today, I see that your people truly and sincerely respect you. It seems the outside world has underestimated you," Baldwin took a sip from his wine glass, his gaze even more appreciative when he looked at Norn. "So, Baron Norn, do you still think you're an insignificant person?"

Baldwin listed Norn's strengths one by one, but the most important point he didn't mention was that as an outsider noble, although Norn was close to the war faction, he was truly neutral when it came to dealing with Saladin.

Norn wouldn't recklessly slaughter Saracens like Duke Reynald of Chatillon, always eager to wage war with Saladin. And his act of killing Saladin's nephew also meant he wouldn't collude with Saladin to overthrow the throne like Count Raymond of Tripoli.

Baldwin could envision that once Norn married his sister, a new powerful force would be introduced into the kingdom's court, balancing the power scales, stabilizing the throne, and leading the kingdom to prosperity under Norn's governance.

"I should have discussed your marriage with your uncle, but I see in you courage and wisdom beyond your years. Moreover, since the Adler family is now under your control, I'll speak directly to you," Baldwin tilted his head, smiling at Norn.

Listening to Baldwin's praise, Norn felt quite proud inside. He never imagined he had been so outstanding these past four years. But it also made Norn suddenly feel relieved: Fortunately, he was in the West. If he were in the East, the next thing might be to smash a cup as a signal, rush out 300 executioners, and chop him into mincemeat to eliminate this huge threat with a tendency towards a powerful minister.

"I know my days are numbered. You marry my sister," Baldwin sighed, his tone filled with helplessness and reluctance, "After my death, you will share the crown with her."

It had to be said, a beauty and a kingdom as a dowry. This proposal couldn't help but tempt Norn.

But was this proposal really that good for Norn?

"Princess Sibylla has a son," Norn looked at Baldwin very seriously, raising a sharp question, "If I marry Her Highness, what will happen to that child?"

"He will be sent to a monastery. After my death, whether he lives or dies is up to you," Baldwin casually decided the fate of a child, even though this person was his own nephew.

Norn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, with many thoughts swirling in his mind.

This was an important decision for him. If in his past life, a billionaire CEO with a short life expectancy suddenly said he was very optimistic about him and wanted to give him his only daughter and all his wealth.

Norn would only think he was dreaming! But now it was actually happening.

However

"I'm sorry! Your Highness! Please forgive me for refusing!" Norn opened his eyes, looked at Baldwin firmly, and his eyes emitted a brilliance that Baldwin couldn't understand.

Baldwin was somewhat incredulous; he really couldn't imagine why Norn would refuse.

"Is it because of the child?" Baldwin's eyes instantly turned cold. He slowly but firmly stood up from his seat, staring at Norn intently. He was unwilling to hand over the throne to someone with a soft heart.

"It's not just because of the child, but more because of this damned era," Norn straightened his chest, his eyes shining with an extraordinary brilliance.

At this moment, Norn felt as if he had become another king, speaking on equal terms with another king.

"Peasants toil all day, only to have their earnings taken by the nobility! Knights fight fiercely, seeking nothing more than a bit of money! Monks chant scriptures, not for transcendence but for promotion."

"In this so-called Holy Land, this place that flows with milk and honey, where everyone claims to fight for God yet slaughters each other, leaving only devastation. In your kingdom, I see no hope," Norn shook his head and continued, "If I were to take over your kingdom, it would only repeat the same mistakes, forced to fight for power with the court and nobles every day, and to fight to the death with the heathens. Here, the kingdom of heaven I desire will never come."

"What can you do then?" Baldwin sneered.

"I will go back, and in my own land, gradually build my own kingdom, a kingdom where everyone is well-fed and clothed, full of hope." At this moment, Norn felt incredibly proud, after all, he had seen this kingdom before.

Baldwin looked at the extraordinary Norn and couldn't understand where his confidence came from, but this confidence seemed to evoke some unpleasant memories for him.

"You don't understand, you understand nothing!" Baldwin almost shouted, which for his frail body was almost an exertion of all his strength.

"How can you know if you don't try?" Norn still stood tall, calm but powerful, "Even if this dark age only sees a little progress, I will have no regrets when I die!"

The sunlight shone on Norn, making Baldwin's eyes momentarily dazzled. He seemed to see his younger self, before he contracted leprosy, full of vigor and as if the world was at his feet.

The intense emotion drained Baldwin's strength. He sat down weakly, his body feeling as if it had been hollowed out, leaning against the chair.

After a long while, he turned his head, his eyes complex as he looked at Norn.

"Very well then."

Silence, a long silence. Baldwin's eyes flickered, seemingly lost in thought.

Just as Norn's legs were about to go numb from standing, Baldwin spoke again in a weak voice.

"I will have the Patriarch of Bertrand send a letter to His Holiness the Pope, to seek a letter of indulgence for your uncle."

"Really?" Norn couldn't believe it. He had refused King Baldwin and yet still received such a great favor.

"As a trade-off, Norn, you must agree to share your trade routes with the Genoese merchants."

Norn quickly weighed the pros and cons. As long as he got the letter of indulgence to take his uncle back, the Venetians wouldn't be able to cross half of the Holy Roman Empire to find trouble with him, would they?

With that thought, Norn nodded firmly.

Baldwin, satisfied with the answer, leaned back weakly in his chair. There wasn't much more he could do.

A long sigh escaped Baldwin's lips. He sadly thought: After my death, who will protect this kingdom?