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Chapter: 80.1

Xangô POV: Day 76

Current Wealth: 168 gold 47 silver 29 copper

Marriage. It was such a strange thing to hear mentioned, such a bizarre thing to be brought up during hardball negotiations. You didn’t marry the people you were making deals with, it just wasn’t done. Not unless you lived in Westeros and had blonde hair and DNA written in comic sans.

Except Redacle had been based on A Song of Ice and Fire, as well as a dozen other things. And in our world political marriages were about as common as politics. I shouldn’t have been shocked, shouldn’t have even been surprised. I was, though, and Lady Velaharo was quick in noticing.

“You’re concerned with our difference in station?” She guessed, misreading the situation completely and giving me a very convenient out.

“More surprised that you aren’t.” I answered, recovering as quickly as I perhaps ever had. “I…Would be rising in social rank and taking your family name?”

She eyed me, unimpressed.

“Do you need to ask? Yes, obviously, you will be taking the name Velaharo and joining my family. I will not be making myself a commoner.”

I didn’t miss the faint twist of disgust in her curled lip as she said that, and I breathed another silent thanks to my past self for knowing better than to have Solitaire negotiate with this woman. He might well have buried her head in the wall for that.

“And I’d be in charge?” I pressed, needing assurance. She scoffed.

“In charge, is that how your people phrase it? You will be the head of our family, yes, as the husband it is only proper.”

Well, there was one convenience about medieval culture. As a man, it did tend to help you get your way in the world. I buried the flicker of distaste even as I leapt on the chance.

“Alright then.” I breathed, nodding. “Then all that’s left is for you to tell me what’s fucked your family badly enough for you to make this offer.”

I could see the surprise on her face at being seen through, fleeting though it was, however it’d be a lie on my part to claim I’d simply out-thought her. Velaharo’s performance had been excellent, and I’d not found any fault in it, but she’d been undone by the simple fact of my knowledge regarding her world and culture.

Redaclan nobles did not offer to let commoners into their ranks lightly, certainly not as an opening arrangement. Something was on here, and Velaharo swallowed before addressing it.

“I’m sure I don;t know what you’re talking about.” She lied, unbalanced enough for me to see the cracks in it now. I sighed.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot, please.” I replied, coolly. “I’m afraid my brother got his brains from the same place I did. You’re being pressured into this offer, I’m guessing by circumstance, so tell me what problems your family is facing. Financial?”

She hesitated, which all but confirmed my guess even before she replied with words.

“Yes.” Velaharo answered, reluctantly. “Financial issues, debt, the usual. You noticed that my guards have been the same pair between this meeting and the last?”

I hadn’t actually, but hearing her mention the fact made it seem obvious. I kept my lapse to myself, in any case. Never a bad thing to be thought cleverer than you were, particularly in a negotiation.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“That, and I’m afraid your opening up with it as an offer tipped your hand a bit. What sort of debt?”

“15,000 gold coins.”

She might’ve stood up and punched me in the gut and still left more air in my lungs than that bombshell did. 15,000 gold. It was a ridiculous sum, almost 100 times our current stockpiles, enough to buy and equip an army.

“When does it need to be paid off by?” I tried, finding myself less confident at the prospect of this deal with every passing moment. Velaharo, clearly, could see my growing hesitance, because I saw a desperation blooming to match it.

“A year, thereabouts.” She answered, hastily. “Quite far, quite distant now, and with your sums growing so quickly-”

I’d just about finished the maths by that point, and cut in once it was done.

“More than 100x our current stores, with only 30x longer to make it.”

She met my gaze with a sudden intensity.

“Can you not make such a sum over that time?” Velaharo snapped. “Do you intend to be counting gold by the dozen, forever? If so, with your technology, you must be a fool. And I will not curse my family with a fool.”

It was such an abrupt, savage assault on my ego, so clinically aimed and forcefully delivered, that for a moment it actually succeeded in distracting me enough to almost fall into her trap and let her seize the conversation.

“You’re deflecting.” I observed, having learned long ago that stating the bare facts of a failed manipulation was among the best ways to unbalance the one attempting it. “You know this is a risk, there could be factors at play that only become relevant once I reach the levels of production needed to meet your debt’s deadline.”

Could I have fallen for her attempt at throwing me off-balance? Yes, definitely. On an off day she might’ve gotten me. Could Solitaire?

I almost laughed aloud. Solitaire would’ve fallen for it hook, line and sinker. However brilliant he was, levering that bastard’s ego against him had always left him as helpless as a kitten. It was almost tempting to do it myself sometimes.

Velaharo was shaken to have been seen through, clearly she was as impressed by her trick as I, but as always she overcame the shock quickly.

“A risk, then.” She shrugged. “Every decision is a risk, the question is what do you stand to lose, and what do you stand to gain? I’m offering you a noble title, aristocracy. I’m offering you rulership. Do you think you’ll ever find that elsewhere, in your station, for a price as low as 15,000 gold coins?”

Oh, she was good. She was very, very fucking good. As good as me? I didn’t know, and that was the first time in my entire life I’d ever not known, even on earth I’d never met a person with this woman’s knack for persuasion, manipulation and deception. I felt something stirr below the belt, and quickly tucked the sensation aside.

It’d been a while, what could I say? Still, I wasn’t Solitaire. I could restrain myself.

Several questions had come from the woman’s reply, all of them good. How useful would her position be, how likely was I to find it elsewhere later on, how large really was the risk at play?

Risk first, and it couldn’t be dismissed easily. If all went well I was fairly sure we could meet the quota, but that wouldn’t allow for potential setbacks, expenses, other unforeseen problems. It would be something breathing down our necks right up until we finished paying it off. Not to be scoffed at.

So how useful would the position be? Well, fucking very. It would be nobility, in feudalism. Not easy to overstate what an advantage we’d find there, very much a promotion comparable to going from rake to farmer. On top of that, there was her apparent position as Councillor for Elswick, which at worst would be some honorary position we might leverage even further politically.

Which brought me to the final point, perhaps the most important. What were the odds of me ever finding a deal like this again?

No, that wasn’t the important point, I could overcome the good or badness of this deal with whatever wealth we might get later on. What mattered, what would really decide things, was how much would be gained from making this deal, right now, and how likely a similarly useful deal was to come around later on. The correspondence of timing and scale, the combination of social power and the particular point at which we got it.

How likely was I to, at any point, do something that would replace all the benefits I’d get from nobility right now? It was a question that barely needed answering.

“Alright.” I said, at last, almost catching my words as I said them. Uncertain, worried, resisting the urge to tremble. But speaking anyway. “Let’s get a marriage contract written up.”