Chapter 106: Killed By Kindness

Chapter 106: Killed By Kindness

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard

Some do it with a bitter look

Some with a flattering word

The coward does it with a kiss

The brave man with a sword”

-Oscar Wilde, The Ballad Of Reading Gaol (2nd Era, 1897)

Polite society. A damn lie and such an ironic phrase. All the people wanted to do at this party was poke their noses into each other's business, then gossip about it behind their backs. At least, that’s the impression Erec got after hours of forced conversation with the so-called, ‘polite society.’

If it were a fair world, hosting an event like this should’ve meant you got to pick out things to suit the occasion to your taste. Maybe have fun at some point.

But no, it wasn’t that simple. The world wasn’t fair; after hours of bumbling through conversations, Erec’s nerves were frayed.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

When he found a spare moment, Erec tracked down merchants. They were rather excited and hell-bent on talking through their business deal now rather than later into the night. It wasn’t quite to plan, but Erec conceded to the somewhat impolite request—knowing that by the end of the night, this part would've taken everything out of him.

Erec invited them aside to have their talk.

He left Garin in charge of the party, then escorted the merchants to his prepared meeting room for this very talk.

Oswald barreled past him into the room; the man’s face scrunched as he took in every detail inside. There wasn’t much, but what was there was genuine. A maple table adorned with carved maple chairs. An artist from the early days of the Kingdom, and her depiction of an otherworldly-green sky from a rare tox-storm.

Even without hearing him say a thing, Erec saw the calculations going through Oswald's head. The greedy merchant compared everything in the room to what he owned.

Six other merchants filtered in after Erec.

Boldwick probably should’ve been here too... but... Well, Erec already knew what he would give, and he’d communicated his demands and more to the merchants. Along with some pretty generous offers to tempt them. And Boldwick had vanished from the party after talking with the Duke.

Was it related to that ominous warning?

Erec shook his head and got rid of the intrusive thoughts. The last couple of hours left him sluggish, but if he could pull together for this, he’d have accomplished everything he set out to do tonight.

Then he could head off on the road without worrying about anything.

Erec took a seat along with the merchants. Letting his gaze roam over the collection of old men and women who wore smiles. Snakes. All of them. They looked human and acted human, but their greed hid in ledgers and manipulations in his cavern over the last few years. It was found in the jewelry wrapped around their necks or decorating their fingers. They were the type of snakes that’d sell their mothers if they got the right offer.

“Well? Are you going to sign?” Hershel asked. Such a change, considering the man previously was the most resistant to cooperate with Erec.

“What changed?”

“Money is to be made. What else?” Hershel folded his arms. “We’ve agreed to your asks and scribed some of ours. Reasonable ones. We’d even decided to concede your right to appoint distributors as an act of good faith. What else might you wish? Do you want my arm and legs? Now, sign so we can work together.”

Erec’s fingers gripped the pen tight enough that he feared it’d pop. This whole thing reeked, but the words on the pages in front of him promised a bright future. Not for him. But for his people.

How could he trust his instincts now? They served fine on the battlefield, but they only led to mistakes and rash acts outside of it.

Courtly affairs, economics, and the thousand other little things weren’t for him. If he took this deal, conceded their points, and gave them some power, this would be a promising business arrangement. But it meant tying himself to these merchants, the same people who’d aimed to abuse the marketplace and take advantage of his people.

It was a hard compromise. A hard thing to accept because he didn’t see a clear alternative.

Perhaps being noble meant being able to bend.

Erec signed on the line, the pen ink drying far too quickly. Their fate sealed and bound on a sheet of paper.

Hershel gathered the paper while Oswald grinned.

“Excellent; I shall file this with the Kingdom’s record keepers tomorrow,” Hershel said.

“How long until you reckon they appoint a new Count?” Oswald asked, voice going giddy.

Hershel shot him a sharp look as Erec’s jaw dropped.

A few others piped up, swapping the topic and transitioning away from what Oswald said. They talked about money—and the best ways to utilize the contract.

“What the fuck did he say?” Erec asked, standing up. His chair slammed onto the floor behind him as heat flared in his chest. A deep pit in his gut. “What did you mean, Oswald, by a new Count?”

Hershel frowned and waved Erec off. “Oswald misspoke. He’s a fool, as I’m sure you’re aware. It is nothing to worry about, Lord Audax. It is our pleasure to complete our business. I suppose you might wish to return to host your party. We can discuss details among ourselves.”

Erec stared at him and the rest of the now-silent merchants, trying to decipher how to respond.

“Erec!” The door slammed open to reveal a frantic Garin. “The church—they burst into your party and demand you come with them. A whole host of priests—“

“Awful!” Hershel sounded aghast. “Whatever will you do?”

Erec numbly stood in his spot. Eyes roamed over the merchants who wouldn’t meet his gaze. There wasn’t time to drill into them about their odd behavior or this coincidence.

Instead, he funneled that anger into productive energy and stormed past Garin and through the door.

If the priests wanted to burst into his manor, he’d show them it wasn’t the church they were used to.