Renovations are underway at the ‘Casiem’, the name Ken chose to give to the building that houses Ardai Industries Headquarters. Though Ardai at the moment doesn't do anything, has no assets, nor did it even have employees, Ken spent several extra pounds to make the Casiem look like it is headquarters to a massive corporation. His goal is to superficially inflate Ardai’s value and image before the banquet began. If he can present Ardai as a reliable and established business, he’ll have an easier time negotiating business deals. And while he is already on a spending spree, he also decided to renovate his new house.
While construction is happening, Ken had gone to a tailor to pick up a set of clothes he ordered previously. According to Marc, upper-class fashion is far more extreme and flashier but has slowly been transitioning to simpler and less extravagant designs. Breeches, waistcoats, jackets, jabots, and justaucorps had been some of the most popular articles still used but are being fazed out and are increasingly considered to be more traditional clothes of the past.
Not wanting to look like a clown, Ken opted for something more modern but still stylish. He chose black dress pants instead of knee breeches, a black vest lightly embroidered with silver, his dress shirt underneath, and a black frock coat that is also lightly embroidered with silver designs. It is flashier than Ken would usually wear, but he still has to admit it looks good.
With his clothing in hand, Ken makes his way to his house which should already be complete. The renovations aren’t too extensive, and it has already been a few days. The banquet is the next day, and he has to prepare himself for the occasion. When he arrives, the house looks much different than when he left. Now it looks cleaner and more luxurious. Much better than his neighbors’. His home now includes more stone in its construction and even some iron reinforcement to make it sturdier. The interior is now full of furniture and decorations. Best of all, he bought the best bed he could find, which is much more comfortable than anything he’s slept on in the past few months.
All he needs to do is wait. As he sits on a chair eating food, he hears a knock on the door. When he goes to open the door, it is Marc.
“Very nice house. I’m impressed. It makes one wonder what your parents did for a living to earn so much money.”
Ken doesn't respond to Marc’s statement. He simply motions his hand to invite him in.
“Which creates another question, where are you from?” Marc says as he enters.
Closing the door, Ken makes his way to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of rum, Marc’s favorite.
“My parents used to be treasure hunters. That’s how they made their money. They also taught me how to fight. As for where I’m from, it’s a faraway country.”
“Yes, that much is clear. It is difficult not to notice your accent as well as your slightly different vocabulary. I must say, something about you certainly seems odd. You are not a spy, are you?” He laughs.
Ken knows Marc is joking, but it still makes him slightly uncomfortable. Being labeled as a spy is the last thing he needs in these early stages of his mission.
“I jest, of course.” Marc continues. “Can you tell me anything of your childhood then?”
“I’d rather not say I don’t particularly have fond memories,” Ken says while pouring the drinks.
“Sure, sure. It must be a sensitive topic. Perhaps you will tell me one day, yes?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ken says almost threateningly.
“All right, easy now. I was simply curious. But you know, whatever problems you have, they will probably resurface. It’s best to make peace with it early.” Marc lifts his cup of rum and drinks.
As expected, the high spending is already looking suspicious. For Ken, he was only told to do the best he can. Luckily, Ken convinced Marc that it’s a family issue and will have to use that excuse for future explanations. Not that Ken has any plans to do so. If Ardai takes off successfully, that will be his obvious source of wealth.
“Why did you come here, Marc?”
“Ah yes, of course.” Marc gulps and puts down his rum. “I come to talk about the banquet tomorrow. Now, I don’t exactly know what your plan is, but you should know there will be some really important people.”
“Yeah, you told me this before. People with ties to all markets.”
“Yes, but that is before. There has been a rumor that some Venesians will be attending the banquet as well as a member of the Scorcian royal family.”
Hearing the word ‘Venesian’ immediately catches Ken’s interest. If he remembers correctly, those are the ones attempting to colonize Weslec.
“How important are these Venesians?” Ken asks.
“What do you mean? They are from the Venesian Empire! The most powerful of the Great Powers. Look, these particular Venesians are representatives of the Senvian Trading Company, who dominate most international trade.”
The Senvian Trading Company, often shortened to the STC, is a massive Venesian corporation that handles nearly all international trade with the blessings of the Venesian Imperial Family and government. Their power grew to the point that Venesia granted the STC its own territory to effectively function as an independent nation. The STC’s activities expanded and grew to unimaginable heights as their wealth increased to the point where they could raise and wield their own military, which could challenge entire Kingdoms.
“These guys can be rather arrogant but with good reason. If a member of the royal family will indeed be there, it likely means that the STC will try to expand themselves in Scorcia further, not that we have a choice.”
“Why not?” Ken asks.
“Are you joking? Scorcia is a vassal to the Empire. We have no choice but to do what they say, and by extension, the STC.”
“What about the royal family? Who’s attending?”
“I know not. I could not figure it out. We just have to find out. Just do not do anything stupid.”
“We’ll see.” Ken laughs as he drinks his rum.
.
.
The next day Ken and Marc are traveling towards the Castle Ward District in a carriage they had rented for the day. It is a big day, and they had to make themselves look the part.
While Marc seems anxious, perhaps even apprehensive about going to the banquet, Ken couldn’t wait to get there. Not because he wants to start socializing, but because he detests carriage rides. To Ken, it isn’t much better than a boat ride. He can feel every pebble that the carriage goes over without any sort of cushioning. The wheels are wood; the axles are wood; the seats are wood; nothing about the carriage is nice other than its appearance. Despite this, Ken would rather these luxury carriages be uncomfortable because it gives him a great opportunity that the upper class would definitely pay attention to.
Under his apparel, Ken brings a folder with a few drawings and designs to use in his negotiations. By all means, is he going to strike some deals; he wouldn’t allow himself to walk away without some progress.
A few dozen grueling minutes of painful traveling later, and the carriage comes to a stop. They have arrived at the front of the Duke’s manor. Ken steps outside with his slicked-back hair, an innumerable amount of guests can be seen as well as dozens of carriages.
As expected, many people wear ‘traditional’ clothes to the event. Many men wear justaucorps of various colors. Few wear a frock coat similar to his own, much to his relief. At least he’ll be able to blend in somewhat. What makes him notably different from everyone else is that all the men wear knee-breeches while he wears formal black trousers.
The women all exclusively wear luxurious dresses and gowns of a variety of different colors and extravagance. The polonaise is standard, as are other close-bodied gowns. Some have the enlarged backside, much to Ken’s amusement. Even the older and larger mantua dresses make an appearance. The whole scene is something to admire as Ken takes in what he is looking at. He simply chuckles at himself for imagining everyone wearing powdered wigs as well.
Something else that caught Ken’s eye is that a handful of women have noticeably thinner waists. Upon further inspection, it seems that nearly all women wore some form of corset or older stays. The ones with narrower waists must be practicing tightlacing though not to any extreme degree.
The front entrance is also something to behold, with granite pillars, statues, and a massive garden with a fountain in the middle.
Something particularly eye-catching is the armed guards. They are unlike any of the city guards scattered throughout the other districts. These guards look more like knights with a fashion sense. Armed with polished halberds, these guards wear complete sets of polished steel armor with white accents, the heraldry painted on the center of the cuirass, a white cape, and a fancy Tudor hat instead of a helmet.
Briefly being stopped by a guard to confirm his status as Marc’s guest, Ken enters the massive building. Clean red carpet on the floor with various paintings on the wall. Looking up, there is a chandelier lit by not candles, but instead what looks like small orbs that lit up the rest of the room. Torches using these mysterious orbs of lights hang from tall walls decorated with paintings. Even the wall base is gold. At the center of the large open room is a single grand staircase leading up to a balcony that extends to the second floor. The railings are polished metal spindles under a polished wood handrail. To the sides of the staircase are doors to a room behind the staircase. On either side of the large room are hallways leading to god knows where.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Guided by guards, all the guests make their way to the massive banquet hall, where the event is held. Ken and Marc have decided to take a seat in one corner of the room, insisted on by Marc.
“This is insane. I’ve never been to this sort of event before. Everyone looks so—prestigious.”
“Welcome to high-class society,” Marc mutters with a cold tone.
As they sit, the event had yet to begin, and people are still entering the room and taking their seats. All the tables have food, beverages, and silverware already prepared. Quickly, the room fills up with all the guests, of which, of course, Ken knows no one. Marc, on the other hand, has a clear look of uneasiness.
“Why are you so nervous, man?” Ken asks.
“My decline as a merchant is not recent. I have said before that I had not come to these events in a long time,” Marc says while tapping his fingers on the table. “This place is full of arrogant pricks. A few have taken a liking to look down at others less successful than them.”
Ken understands what he meant and says nothing else. It seems like Marc has taken constant verbal abuse from these sorts of people and prefers not to reencounter any of them.
Finally, as everyone is seated, the Duke stands in front of everyone.
“Greetings everyone! Welcome to the annual Efielge banquet. As always, I am your host, Duke Dente,” Duke Dente says, followed by a wave of clapping.
“Today, we have a very special guest joining us. Her Highness, Princess Cara of the Kingdom of Scorcia!”
Another wave of applause follows right after. When it starts dying down, the princess stands up from her seat.
“I’m grateful for your hospitality Duke Dente. And thank everyone here for having me for this banquet today,” she softly says before sitting back down into her seat with another round of applause.
As the princess sits back down, Ken can’t help but stare. The princess is a beautiful woman that few others can hope to match. Ken guesses that she is in her early twenties or late teens. With light brown eyes, brown hair, and perfect skin, she radiates excellence in addition to her sparkling white dress.
“In addition to her highness the princess, we are also joined by representatives of the Senvian Trading Company of the Venesian Empire. Lord Luke and Lord Derek.”
As soon as the two men stand up, Ken’s eyes shoot towards their faces in surprise. They are the same men he had encountered at the City Hall. Still holding onto their smug and arrogant facial expressions, Ken imagines himself getting up and punching them in the face. It is a nice image to have in mind, but of course, he can’t do that in this environment.
“Yes, yes, what a lovely event the Duke has set up today. I’m sure the food will be lovely as well,” Lord Derek says as they both sit back down.
“This year, the banquet is in honor of the Venesian Empire. As you may or may not have heard, the Venesian Empire is leading the world into a new age. With the discovery of the new world in the west, we can all expect riches, wealth, and prosperity like never seen before. May the Empire’s rule be everlasting!” Duke Dente lifts his wine glass up, as do all the other guests. “Let us begin and dig in.” Duke Dente sits back down.
Following the brief introduction and speech, all the guests begin to dig into their food. Ken and Marc also start to dig in, with Marc first reaching for the wine bottle before anything else. The room is packed with chatter as many guests begin socializing with each other, each trying to make connections for personal benefit. As some of the guests get up to move around, Ken and Marc remain seated while Ken looks for people of interest.
Suddenly, someone from out of their line of sight calls out to them.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Marc Lennings! How bold of you to return after so long,” says a stranger who approached them with wine in hand.
“Gyson,” Marc whispers.
“What are you doing here?” Marc asks.
“What am I doing here? No, no, what are you doing here? Have you not gone bankrupt yet?” Gyson replies.
Ken thinks this must be the kind of people Marc wanted to avoid.
“I’m just enjoying the banquet. And I’m not bankrupt quite yet,” Marc says.
Gyson sneers. “Yes, of course not. You simply refuse to die off like any other bug. Your day will come. You might as well accept it now,” Gyson says as he drinks his wine. “And who might this be?” he says, “your successor? Protégé? Perhaps some poor fellow you’re attempting to scam?”
“I’m Ken Kai. It’s a pleasure,” Ken says.
“Likewise. Call me Gyson,” he says, hardly even taking a glance at Ken. “So tell me. What has Lennings said to you, Mister Kai? That he will lead you to success? I’ll have you know that Lennings here is a failure who will soon fall under his own weight. He is no better than the average peasant. Whatever you are looking for, Lennings will only drag you down.”
“Why don’t you screw off and bother someone else, huh?” Marc snaps with anger while getting up close to Gyson’s face.
For a brief moment, the two stare at each other as if ready to fight. It is a tense moment and an awkward one for Ken. Almost instinctively, he has his hand near his waist, ready to take out a weapon in case things got ugly. Right before Ken was about to stand up and defuse the confrontation, Gyson backs down.
“How uncivilized. But you’re right. I waste my time with the likes of you,” he sneers.
As soon as Gyson leaves the two to themselves, Ken is slightly perplexed while Marc lets out a long sigh.
“If you don’t mind, Ken, I’ll be leaving and going home. You need me not anymore here.”
Before Ken can even say anything, Marc quickly gets up and leaves the room with his head down.
“Sure, man,” Ken whispers as he watches Marc walk away.
After the brief heated encounter, Ken is alone, and his eyes are back to scanning the room. He is vigilant and keeping tabs on those who seem important, as well as listening in to their conversation. Pretty quickly, he overhears someone talking about iron production with someone else. This is precisely what he wants to hear.
Ken stands up from his seat and makes his way towards two fellows in suits who look not much older than himself.
“Hey, hello! I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” Ken interrupts with confidence and a persuasive smile, completely changing his personality. “Rather interestingly, I’m looking for people who produce iron.”
“Is that so? And who are you supposed to be?” replies one of the men.
“My name is Ken Kai. You see, I'm the owner of a company by the name of Ardai Industries. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” Ken speaks in a slightly quick manner with excitement.
“No, I can not say I have heard of either you or your company.”
“Really? That’s unfortunate. Ardai is a company that specializes in new inventions and innovations, and we are seeking suppliers for iron. Perhaps you're interested?” With his aggressive approach, Ken is almost scaring away the two men.
“Unfortunately, my organization is rather busy. It will be difficult for us to provide anyone with any iron,” one man says, trying to turn down Ken.
“Ah, no problem at all. In fact, we at Ardai have already developed various technologies that will increase production output and—”
“Allow me to stop you right there,” interjects the other man who has been silent. “I must be blunt. We have no interest in your company or what they do. We much rather do business with those whom we know will make us money. Now, if you don’t mind, we must—”
Right before the man can finish his sentence, Ken takes out his folder and opens it to one of the pages in haste.
“Before you go, please take a look at this,” Ken says, almost putting the folder in front of their faces. “You might have noticed just how uncomfortable the carriage ride to the district is, correct? This here is a design developed by Ardai that is a new and improved carriage. If you look closely, you’ll notice the wheels would look different.”
With the folder basically in front of their faces, the two men have no choice but to take a look. They don’t expect anything worth their while but do notice that the carriage drawing look different. Seeing that he has their attention, Ken continues his pitch.
“You see, these carriages are much more luxurious than anything else you’ve seen out there. Our carriages are equipped with what we call suspension. You may have heard of it. It absorbs any shock resulting from rough terrain giving the passengers a soft ride. Bottom line is that these carriages are far more comfortable to travel in as you don’t feel any bumps or rocks on the road. You could be traveling on gravel, and you’d hardly notice!”
“I suppose that’s an interest—”
“Also, you said that you lacked enough iron production?” Ken says as he flips a few pages. “These designs here are for new furnaces that would be able to multiply production many times over. Have you heard of steel?”
“Yes, we have, it’s—”
“We also have furnace designs that will be able to produce steel in massive quantities. So much so that you might even find yourself looking for people to buy it all. Luckily for you, Ardai needs all this material, and we will, of course, be buying it all from you, which means that you’ll be making more money than ever before! And you, are you also in the business of iron production?” Ken turns to the other man.
“I work in the mining industry. Coal is one of our biggest sellers,” says the other man with a confused face.
“That’s perfect!” Ken turns to more pages. “I have here some mining techniques and designs for equipment and machines that will allow you to mine more than anyone else! Also, have you heard of coke? Ardai also developed a way to convert coal into something that burns much, much hotter than anything else. Perfect for smelting ores, wouldn’t you say?”
Leaving nearly no space for the other two men to say anything, Ken is relentless in showcasing various designs in an attempt to convince them. He speaks with so much confidence and excitement about Ardai’s technologies that even some other people near them overhear and take interest. Some doubt Ken, but others think he might be serious.
“So uh, Mister Kai, is it? These designs, are they all yours? Who makes them? And this ‘Ardai’, can they truly create all these things you say?” says one of the men with doubt.
“These designs are made and are owned by Ardai Industries. And yes, we can definitely make all of these. In fact, you can see this folder here. These are all developed by Ardai and by no one else. We are actually already building a few of these. As I said, we just need people to provide us with materials,” Ken says. Of course, this is a lie, Ardai isn’t building anything and doesn't employ anyone else, but he has to make Ardai seem reliable enough.
“Assuming we provide you with the materials, how do we get our hands on these?”
“Everything can be bought, of course. However these furnaces we would sell for a very, very high price because they are one of a kind that can’t be found anywhere else. But tell you what? Ardai will lease these out to you for low prices. Ardai will, of course, still own them if you do. But for you, you’ll be profiting from something that you are hardly paying for. It’ll certainly be cheaper than whatever you use now. Ardai will even fix any that malfunction or break down or even replace it entirely without costing you anything. How’s that sound?”
Hearing this, the two men fall into deep thought. Ken’s proposal is strange and seems too good to be true. But if Ken is telling the truth, the two men could undoubtedly produce more and make more money. Including Ken’s idea in leasing them instead of paying for an absurd amount of money sounded like a reasonable investment.
“And you are confident that ‘Ardai’ will succeed?”
“I guarantee it,” Ken replies.
“Well, then, Mister Kai. Perhaps I am making a bad decision, but if what you say is true, it is an offer I can not refuse. I think you got yourself a deal.”
“I as well am interested, Mister Kai,” says the other man as he reaches for a handshake.
With a gleeful smile, Ken shakes hands with both men. “That’s great. But we must formalize our deal and sign some contracts. I promise you won’t regret it.”