"Lord… Baron…" The hesitant voice came from a shadowy figure approaching Gwyneth. It was the representative from the Windermere City Carpentry Guild who had previously discussed purchasing timber from the barony. For some reason, the man seemed somewhat fearful of Gwyneth.
After some hesitation, and sensing Gwyneth's growing impatience, the representative finally spoke: "My lord, as the representative of the guild, I admit my oversight in the undervaluation of your birch trees, offering only 12 copper coins per tree. This was undeniably an inaccurate and biased price."
"To rectify this, I, on behalf of the guild, extend our sincere apologies and propose a revised price of 20 copper coins per tree. What do you think?"
Gwyneth chuckled lightly. "Let's proceed with this price. Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Representative. Don't forget to enjoy the banquet."
The representative bowed deeply and retreated. Gwyneth watched his back, deep in thought. He was now different from a few days ago, having suddenly acquired a substantial fortune equivalent to half a year's revenue of the barony. Technically, he could now pay off his debts without needing to sell the timber, but he decided to continue with the contract.
There were two reasons for this decision. First, such windfall income was not repeatable. The current financial gain was a one-time event, achieved at the cost of the local ecosystem. Second, the inheritance ceremony was imminent.
Although Gwyneth had effectively controlled the Targas barony and his prestige was growing, it didn't mean he could skip the ceremony. It was essential for all lords, and some even borrowed money to conduct it. This ceremony, officiated by a church representative, symbolized divine witness and approval; it required participation from a superior lord or king's representative, symbolizing secular support, and it had to be announced to all subjects, declaring, "I am your new ruler."
After the ceremony, Gwyneth would need to personally visit his superior or the king, swearing his loyalty, marking the true start of his rule.
Baldwin had already been in contact with the Earl of Annon Valley, Gwyneth's direct superior, discussing the ceremony. With the event approaching and without any funds, Gwyneth couldn't be at ease.
Moreover, the ceremony might influence his rule and yield a significant amount of governance points. Therefore, not only would he continue selling timber, but he also planned to increase the quantity, selling 200 birch trees at 20 copper coins each, totaling 16.67 gold coins. This amount was far from sufficient for all the upcoming expenses but was the best he could manage for now.
With a sigh, Gwyneth returned to the banquet, staying up late with a bored Rosalyn.
…
In the early hours of the morning, as the banquet neared its end, the drunken guards gradually left the great hall of the castle and headed to their quarters in the towers. Not all guards attended the banquet; some were on duty, vigilant for any potential emergencies.
Many maids and workers were also busy tidying up the banquet hall. As the festivities wound down, the maids and workers began cleaning up.
Gwyneth, not having drunk much, was still sober. He asked someone to bring Felicity to him. During this time, Rowena, after being treated by Rosalyn, had already recovered from her injuries and was regaining her strength. As for Felicity, her few days in the manor as a slave, eating only one meal a day and engaging in labor, albeit not heavy, had taken a toll on her.
Seeing Felicity again after a few days, she looked even more disheveled than when she was in Windermere City. Covered in dirt and mud, her once delicate face was unwashed, and her hands and feet bore small wounds and calluses, signs of adapting to a harsh life.
Outside the castle drawbridge, Gwyneth held a skewer of aromatic grilled meat seasoned with garlic, rosemary, and a pinch of salt, playing with a guard dog. Felicity approached quietly, eyes lowered to the ground.
"Want some, Felicity?" Gwyneth teased, shaking the grilled meat in his hand. The girl remained silent. He took half of the skewer and placed it in Felicity's outstretched hands. Her eyes misted over, gazing at the succulent venison she had never before had the luxury to savor so closely.
However, she hesitated to eat, lifting her eyes and gesturing, asking if she could take it to Rowena, who needed it more. Of course, this was just Gwyneth's guess; he didn't understand sign language or her gestures.
"No," he stated firmly. "This is my gift to you. How dare you give it away without my permission?"
Gwyneth's gaze was stern as the girl bit her lip. "How about this piece? Maybe I'll let you take it to Rowena," he teased, shaking the remaining meat.
The girl looked up, cautiously nodding, eyes filled with hope. Yet, Gwyneth callously threw the meat on the ground, startling her. The guard dog quickly snatched and swallowed it, returning to wag its tail beside him.
"What are you thinking? Why would I give it to you?" Gwyneth taunted, bending over to peer into her face. "Use that tiny, foolish brain of yours—if you have one—and think. Do you deserve it?"
"You stupid, lowly, filthy, detestable thief!" he continued mockingly.
Felicity's fingers clenched tightly around the meat he had given her, her whole body trembling. Tears welled up and streamed down her dirty face, falling to the ground.
"But I'm not a devil. I'll give you another chance," Gwyneth said. "Let's play a game. I'll enter the castle. You close your eyes, count to 300, then come find me. If you can do it without being seen, you win. If you're caught, you lose. Win, and I'll let you and your friend feast on meat. Lose, and you'll rot in the slave quarters until death. Game starts now!"
Leaving Felicity behind, Gwyneth strode toward the castle, shouting for the guards to seal it off. The guards scrambled to their positions, patrolling the walls and towers.
Entering the castle, Gwyneth glanced back at the lone girl still standing there, clutching the now cold piece of meat, before entering the castle with a cold snort.