"These were all used by our ancestors," the old steward, Spencer, explained. "They record the glory of the great Russell ancestors."
Due to the room's shape, their voices echoed noticeably, almost as if the room had built-in reverb. Freyr gently touched the black oak desk, polished to a shine, suspecting it might be even older than the steward himself.
"This used to be the Russell family's council chamber," the old steward continued in a low voice. "Although the family's decision-making center later moved to the imperial capital, there is an unwritten rule that every family leader who visits the castle for inspection or vacation must spend the first night in this study. It serves as a reminder of their responsibilities."
Pausing, the old steward glanced at Freyr and then lowered his head. "You are the eldest son of the current Earl, representing him for this inspection. May I ask if you will...?"
Freyr, understanding immediately, smiled and nodded. "Traditions must be upheld. I am no exception. I will spend the night in the study."
The steward visibly relaxed, his expression softening. "Very well, I will make the necessary preparations. Additionally, as you are here to inspect the estate's affairs on behalf of the Earl, where would you like to begin? Upon hearing of your return, I had this year's account books organized. When would you like to start reviewing them?"
Freyr interrupted him with a smile. "Mr. Steward, I've just arrived and am quite hungry. Could you prepare some food? Once I've rested, I will start looking at the accounts."
Soon, Freyr enjoyed a traditional southern noble afternoon tea in the study, having a muffin and a glass of milk. Just as he set down his cup, Spencer entered, directing two strong footmen who brought in a trolley loaded with thick ledgers, stacked so high they almost towered over Freyr.
"Are all these this year's accounts?" Freyr frowned, suspecting the old steward might be trying to overwhelm him.
"Yes, young master, all of them," Spencer replied earnestly. "They include the estate's land area, arable land, financial income and expenditure of the six towns, logistics and supply expenses of the three private armies, soldiers' salaries, supplies, and weapon consumption. Additionally, there are records of this year's harvest and construction budgets. I've also started next year's budget, though it's not complete due to time constraints. But since you won't be leaving soon, we have ample time."
Freyr couldn't help but touch his nose, looking at the mountain of accounts before him. "Is this really all?"
"This is just part of it. As for the rest," the steward said, uncharacteristically lighthearted, "the rest might take you about a week to go through."
Freyr began to frown, quietly scrutinizing the steward. The old man didn't seem to be joking. However, did he really believe that a thirteen-year-old could understand these accounts? Surely, he knew that Freyr's return was a disguised form of exile. If so, why present such a daunting task seriously? Was he displeased with the young master, worried that Freyr might take away some of his power? Or was he trying to cover up his own misconduct?
Every possibility seemed plausible. But Freyr said nothing, calmly picking up the top ledger, dusting it off, and sitting down to read.
After a while, he looked up to find the steward still standing there.
"Is there something else you need to tell me, Mr. Steward?" Freyr asked coldly. "I don't like having people around when I work."
"Yes, young master." Spencer's eyes showed a flicker of surprise, and he seemed about to say something more but thought better of it, leaving with the footmen.
Once the heavy doors of the study closed, Freyr gently set down the ledger, stood up, and walked around the room, stretching his body. He smiled to himself and murmured, "It seems there might be something interesting to look forward to."
As night fell, the old steward came to the study twice: once to pour tea for Freyr and once to light candles as darkness descended. To Spencer's surprise, the young master was actually poring over the accounts.
Freyr wasn't just pretending; he was genuinely engrossed in the accounts. Several ledgers lay open on the desk, and he appeared to be calculating something. After the old steward and his helpers finished lighting the twenty large candelabras in the study, Freyr casually asked a few questions about the accounts.
Each question was precise and to the point, proving that the young master truly understood the tedious records. This revelation was startling—was this the same young master rumored to be considered an "idiot" by the family in the imperial capital?
Despite his best efforts to hide it, the old steward's fleeting expression of surprise did not escape Freyr.
Once the steward left the room, Freyr slowly closed the ledger in his hand. In truth, he found the accounts quite fascinating. He hadn't actually scrutinized the tedious numbers or checked for any manipulations. Given his lack of expertise, he couldn't possibly discern any discrepancies.
What no one expected was that Freyr was interested in the other information the ledgers contained. Who said account books were only for accounting? Freyr gleaned insights that were never recorded in the family archives.
He discovered that the Russell family operated almost autonomously within their domain, holding significant independent power. The taxes collected belonged to the family, and even local officials were appointed at the family's discretion. While taxes were collected according to imperial law, the family had the liberty to modify, reduce, or increase them under special circumstances. They merely needed to remit a portion to the imperial treasury annually.
In terms of military power, the accounts revealed that the imperial garrison in the territory was minimal, symbolically stationed at the outskirts. The Russell family provided all their supplies and logistics. Most of the territory's law and order was maintained by the family's private army.
From these accounts, Freyr easily grasped the economic, political, and military state of the Russell family. If the old steward knew how Freyr was "reading" the accounts, his eyes would surely pop out in disbelief.