Chapter 17 - A Duke’s Approval

The warmth of the newly built heating system in the town hall had spread more than just comfort—it had ignited a sense of hope among the people of Ravensbourne. The once skeptical blacksmiths, craftsmen, and masons now worked with newfound enthusiasm, eager to implement Aldric's innovations beyond just the town hall. Word of the success spread quickly, and with winter showing no signs of relenting, Aldric knew the next step was crucial.

With careful wording, he penned a letter to his father, Duke Alaric Ravensbourne, detailing the success of the new underfloor heating system. He included sketches and calculations, explaining how the design ensured warmth throughout the structure without the dangers of open flames inside homes. At the end of the letter, he made a request—for additional funding to expand the project, ensuring that more homes, especially those belonging to the poorest families, could be heated before the worst of the winter settled in.

When the letter was sent, Aldric continued his work, expecting a written response in a week's time. Instead, three days later, the town hall's doors were thrown open by the wind as a group of armored knights stepped inside. Gasps and hurried whispers filled the room as the townspeople turned to see the figure stepping through the doorway.

Duke Alaric Ravensbourne had come in person.

A man of imposing stature, Alaric's presence commanded immediate attention. His deep blue cloak, embroidered with the sigil of House Ravensbourne—a silver raven soaring against a dark storm—flowed behind him as he strode forward. His gaze, sharp and assessing, swept over the gathered villagers before settling on Aldric.

Lucien, had been standing near the fireplace, observing the heating system when their father arrived. At first, Lucien's interest in Aldric's actions had been nothing more than curiosity—he had been skeptical of Aldric's sudden change in behavior. But over time, watching Aldric's dedication and the genuine improvements he brought to their lands, that curiosity had shifted into something else. He wanted to be part of that change.

"Father," Aldric greeted, bowing his head in respect. He had not expected his father to arrive unannounced, but he met the Duke's gaze without hesitation.

The townspeople lowered their heads in deference, their bodies tense. A visit from the Duke himself was no small matter, and none dared to speak out of turn.

Alaric glanced around, then stepped forward, boots echoing against the warm wooden floors. He crouched down, placing his gloved hand against the heated surface. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he stood again, looking back at Aldric.

"Explain it to me," the Duke said simply.

Aldric did not hesitate. He walked his father through the design, explaining how the underground channels would direct heat beneath the floors and how properly placed chimneys would ensure steady airflow. He touched on the principles of thermodynamics and fluid dynamics—concepts that fell under physics—detailing how the heat would be evenly distributed, providing warmth without the risk of fire spreading inside the homes. Excited to share his knowledge, Aldric spoke with enthusiasm, showcasing his intellect and vision.

As Aldric spoke, Alaric listened in silence, his expression unreadable. When Aldric finished, the Duke looked back at the heated floor, then at the villagers who had been staying in the town hall. They stood huddled together, eyes filled with both awe and uncertainty. This was the man who ruled over them—their Duke, their highest authority.

Duke Alaric eyed Aldric skeptically. "Tell me, boy, it's hard to believe such a thing exists—this… thermo-thy-antics—"

"It's thermodynamics," Aldric interjected. "Which falls under the study of phys—"

"Enough." Alaric's firm tone cut him off.

Aldric blinked, realizing he had gotten carried away. He had lived in a world where science was common knowledge, where discussing theories and principles with peers was natural. But this wasn't that world. He sighed, reminding himself of the situation—he needed to explain things in a way they could grasp, not drown them in concepts they had no foundation for.

Alaric studied Aldric with suspicion. "Tell me the truth—there's no magic involved in this? No runes or artifacts? I've received no reports of you consorting with a mage." He paused, his gaze narrowing. "Though… one did pass through recently."

Aldric frowned, confused by the question. "No, Father. There's no magic involved."

He was surprised to hear the word magic spoken so seriously. He knew it existed in this world, but he had yet to find the time to learn more about it. Consorting with a mage? And one that passed through recently? He recalled hearing that individuals who could sense mana were incredibly rare—only one in ten thousand possessed such a talent. The thought lingered in his mind. Could I have such an ability?

While Aldric's though wonder off, Alaric spoke. "Your request for funding is approved," he said, voice steady. A wave of quiet relief washed over the onlookers.

But then, he added, "On one condition." His gaze locked onto Aldric's. "You will first implement this system in the castle."

Aldric did not argue. He had expected this demand. If his father was to invest in this innovation, he would naturally want to benefit from it first.

"Understood," Aldric said. "I will have Master Rowan and his men begin immediately."

Alaric nodded once before turning to leave, but before stepping out, he gave Aldric a final glance. "Impress me again, and I may reconsider my expectations of you." Then, without another word, he exited, his knights following behind.

As soon as the doors closed, the tension in the room eased. The villagers murmured among themselves, some kneeling in disbelief that they had been in the presence of the Duke himself. Lucien, still by the fireplace, let out a low whistle.

"Well," Lucien mused, arms crossed. "That was unexpected." He turned to Aldric, a smirk playing at his lips. "You really do have a way of catching our father's attention. That's no easy feat."

Aldric exhaled, already organizing his thoughts. There was no time to dwell on his father's words.

He turned to Rowan. "Gather your best men. We'll start with the castle."

Rowan, still a bit stunned from the Duke's visit, quickly nodded. "Aye, my lord."

With the castle's heating system now taking priority, Aldric ensured that the remaining craftsmen and able-bodied villagers continued repairing homes and distributing food rations to those in need. He did not forget the families still struggling to survive the winter.

Despite his efforts, the weight of leadership never eased. Every decision had consequences, and even as the repairs progressed, new concerns arose—supply shortages, illness spreading in the colder districts. Each problem demanded his attention, but time was not on his side.

Soon, he would be departing for the lands of Marquis Gustov to deal with the growing bandit problem plaguing the trade routes. Before then, he needed to ensure the castle and its people would remain secure in his absence. He poured over reports late into the night, double-checking supply counts, reinforcing patrol routes, and making contingency plans should anything go wrong.

By the time he left, he wanted to have every necessary piece of information—maps, terrain details, known bandit tactics—ingrained in his mind. A misstep in an unfamiliar land could cost him more than just a few resources.

For now, his focus remained on the present.

The castle would have its heating system. The people would have their repairs.

And when spring came, Aldric would find a way to solve the next problem.

One step at a time.