"Three hundred gold coins, that's my absolute limit. Rayalu, you must understand that this is no small amount—it's nearly equivalent to half a year's income from the estate."
The baroness tried her best to negotiate. However, Rayalu kept smiling, not uttering a word, completely uninvolved in the haggling.
If it had been the old Rayalu, he might have been intimidated. Half a year's income from the estate sounded daunting, but in reality, there was a lot of fluff in that number. If that truly was all the income, they wouldn't even have enough to eat black bread. After all, in these times, there were very few free citizens, and most of the serfs were bound to the nobility.
The entire barony had a population of over ten thousand, and even with basic math skills, Rayalu knew that their actual income was far more than what was reported. Underreporting income was already an unwritten rule among the nobility. Although the king only collected commercial taxes, the church still levied a tithe!
As devout believers, underreporting income became a necessity. With the per capita annual income of the estate being less than one silver coin—barely enough to feed on hay—and yet still managing to pay the tithe on time, it was clear that the Coslow family was the most devout followers of the Lord of Dawn.
"Three hundred gold coins, plus a fine warhorse and a set of armor. Rayalu, you're a knight now; you need your own knight's gear."
The baroness promised again.
Hearing this, Rayalu rolled his eyes. This was clearly an attempt to placate him like a child. Although becoming a knight did require gear, he believed his father, Baron Redman, would prepare it for him.
As a traditional nobleman, Baron Redman was very concerned about appearances and would never make a mistake in this regard. Although the family had many sons and was financially strained, with the wastrel Lesur out of the way, they had saved a significant expense and gained a few years of breathing room. They should be able to get through it.
Only the baroness was still unable to see the situation clearly, running around for Lesur. In reality, from the day of the incident, he had already been abandoned. Family resources? Forget about it. No matter how much Baron Redman loved his son, he couldn't expect the rest of the Coslow family to support him.
"Four hundred gold coins!"
"Rayalu, this is all the cash I can use. If I offer more, your father will find out."
The baroness said helplessly.
Although she nominally managed the household finances, in reality, Baron Redman had the final say. The baroness could only access her small private stash, and there wasn't much cash available.
"The remaining hundred gold coins can be settled with goods! Magic cores, crystals, whatever works. The baroness wouldn't renege on such a small amount, right?"
Rayalu said magnanimously.
That smug face rekindled the baroness's barely suppressed anger. Before she could erupt, Rayalu added, "Baroness, you should go get the money and also bring the baron over. I'll go check on poor Lesur first. He's been tied up for three days and is injured. Who knows what might happen if we delay any longer."
With that, he turned and left, not giving the baroness a chance to argue, as if he had her in the palm of his hand.
The baroness stamped her foot, but suddenly regained her composure in her anger. To marry into a noble family as a merchant's daughter and secure her position as the lady of the house, she might not have excelled in political maneuvering, but her skills in managing the household were certainly not lacking.
Now, no matter the cause of the conflict, she was the one at a disadvantage. Who could she blame when her son had caused this mess himself? If anyone thought she had orchestrated the switching of the life elixir, it would be over for her. On the continent of Aslant, divorce might be difficult, but widowhood was easy.
Unlike those noblewomen who relied on marriages to solidify their status, her weak maternal family couldn't afford such turmoil.
…
Rayalu strolled through the ancient castle, only making his way to the column where Lesur was tied up after the gold coins were transferred.
"Strung up" was indeed an exaggeration. Although the baron had given that order, the guards had not taken it literally.
After all, Lesur was the baron's son. If something were to happen to him, it would be their heads on the line. The original "hang him on the pillar" order had turned into "sit him by the pillar," with a maid even helping to shoo away the mosquitoes nearby and a plate of fruit not far off.
If not for Lesur's disheveled appearance and the ropes binding him, who would believe he was being punished?
Seeing Rayalu approach, the two guards immediately looked embarrassed. Offending one young master while tending to another was clearly not a wise choice.
Rayalu was not someone to be trifled with, especially with two elder brothers backing him. The fact that the baron's sons were divided into two factions was no secret. One side held the inheritance rights, while the other had the support of the lady of the house. If not for Baron Redman keeping a lid on things, the situation would have blown up long ago.
Pick a side? Don't be ridiculous; no one was that foolish. They had to please the lady of the house now, but they would have to align with the other side in the future. How could anyone choose?
"Master Rayalu, you're here!"
Rayalu nodded, not intending to make things difficult for the guards. In this hierarchical world, survival was tough for the small fry, and trying to please everyone was understandable.
"What's going on? Lesur, my poor brother, how did you end up tied here?"
"What are you waiting for? Hurry up and untie him! My poor…"
Anyone who didn't know the context would have thought this was brotherly love at its finest. In truth, the two were close in age but had been at each other's throats since childhood.
"Enough, Rayalu! Stop pretending. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be punished by Father! Get lost now! I don't want to see you for another second!"
Lesur practically roared.
Rayalu, however, remained calm, even speaking more tenderly, "Poor Lesur, you've lost your mind—you don't even recognize your dearest brother. Never mind, let's release him. I'll handle Father. After all, as the elder brother, I can't just watch my younger brother suffer."
This touching scene left the guards dumbfounded, temporarily forgetting what they were supposed to do.
Before they could react, Rayalu had already drawn his knight's sword and sliced through the ropes, proving with his actions that he was serious.
Just then, a stern-looking middle-aged man appeared—it was none other than Baron Redman. Clearly, he had witnessed the entire scene just now.
He glared at the two guards, then kicked Lesur, who was sitting by the pillar, sending him flying several meters without missing a beat.
"Rayalu stays. Everyone else, take this wretch away."
Seeing no one move, the baroness, who had followed closely behind, hurriedly added, "What are you standing around for? Quickly take Master Lesur to treat his injuries!"
No matter how well she hid it, Rayalu could still sense the baroness's heartache. That kick from Baron Redman was not light, sending Lesur flying three or four meters. If Lesur hadn't been in good shape and trained in martial arts, an ordinary person would have likely died or been severely injured. Baron Redman was clearly deeply disappointed.
Making a mistake wasn't frightening; what was frightening was not realizing it. In the world of nobles, stupidity was the greatest sin.
After everyone left, Baron Redman looked at Rayalu, somewhat relieved, and said, "You've made good progress, though your performance was a bit overdone."