Chapter 35: Normal Days Part 3

  My daily routine continued. Every morning began with the fiercely competitive wake-up routine orchestrated by Aelrue and Rosy Revalis, serving as a surprisingly effective replacement for a morning bell. Following breakfast and the daily intelligence briefings from Vane, I buried myself in administrative work. My afternoons were dedicated to magical theory with Duchess Zemlya. By evening, I would cross swords with Vice-Captain Leontar in the training courtyard, pushing my physical boundaries to match my growing magical reserves.

  However, two monumental events were rapidly approaching on the horizon.

  The first was the economic transformation. The Royal Bank of Leo was taking shape in the very center of the capital's commercial district. I had requisitioned one of the largest, most heavily fortified guildhalls—a massive structure of black stone and reinforced steel—and entirely repurposed its interior for the Bank.

  I stood on the polished marble floor of the main atrium, the smell of fresh mortar, sharp chemical ink, and hot metal hanging heavy in the air.

  "The printing presses are fully operational, Your Highness."

  "Good job, Thorgar!"

  He bowed deeply in gratitude.

  He gestured toward the secure subterranean levels of the building where the massive, hydraulic-powered machines were operating.

  I walked down the heavily guarded stone steps, accompanied by Thorgar and the Minister of Finance.

  The underground facility was a fortress within a fortress, manned exclusively by the most loyal veterans of the Venator Order.

  At the center of the room, pristine sheets of premium-grade paper were being fed into the heavy copper plates. With a resounding clack, the press stamped the intricate designs onto the paper.

  I picked up one of the freshly cut notes from the drying racks. It was a masterpiece of early-industrial counterfeiting prevention. The ink was a deep, complex shade of royal blue and gold that shifted slightly when held to the light. On the face of the bill was a highly detailed, stoic portrait of the first Sovereign of the Leo Principality, framed by incredibly intricate, overlapping geometric patterns that would be impossible for a standard artisan to replicate by hand.

  "It is beautiful."

  "We have already printed enough 'Leos' to cover the salaries of the entire Royal Army for the next six months."

  Duchess Zemlya stepped out from the shadows near the back of the vault.

  "I and Solon's underlings have infused a localized, microscopic spatial and earth-mana matrix into the very fibers of the paper during the drying process. To the naked eye, it is just high-quality parchment. But to anyone with even a fraction of mana sensitivity..."

  She reached out and tapped the note in my hand. Immediately, a faint, almost imperceptible ripple of spatial distortion hummed beneath my fingertips.

  "It cannot be faked."

  "Unless the forger happens to be a Rank 8 Grand Mage specializing in both spatial and earth manipulation."

  "Excellent," I smiled, placing the note back on the stack.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Begin the distribution. We will open the first branch of the Royal Bank of Leo to the public by the end of the week. Issue the royal decree: all taxes, guild fees, and state debts are to be paid exclusively in this currency. If they do not comply, they will face heavy penalties."

  I left the subterranean printing press with a profound sense of satisfaction. The economy of the Principality was about to be forcibly dragged into the future.

  However, the second approaching event required a far more delicate, and infinitely more ruthless, touch.

  August 15th, 5109. That was the date of my birth in this world.

  In a matter of days, I would officially turn twenty years old. According to the ancient, deeply ingrained traditions of the Leo Principality, the twentieth birthday of a Crown Prince—especially one serving as Prince Regent—was a milestone of paramount importance. Tradition dictated a grand, week-long festival of unparalleled extravagance.

  For seven days, leading up to the climax on the night of August 15th, the capital was to be thrown into a state of absolute jubilation. The city gates would be opened to esteemed merchants from across the continent. Barrels of ale and wine would be distributed freely to the commoners in the city squares, and the royal palace would host a series of lavish banquets, balls, and theatrical performances.

  It was an incredibly expensive waste of resources. Under normal circumstances, I would have canceled the entire affair and redirected the funds to the foundries.

  But these were not normal circumstances. I had found a highly practical use for a grand party.

  "Are the invitations prepared, Aelrue?" I asked, sitting at my desk later that evening.

  "Yes, Your Highness," she replied, stepping forward and placing a stack of heavy, gold-leafed envelopes onto the mahogany wood.

  "The royal couriers are standing by. We have drafted invitations for every major noble house, every high-ranking guildmaster, and the most esteemed merchants in the realm."

  I picked up the top envelope. It bore the wax seal of a Marquis Orientis from the eastern territories. They had attempted to join the Federation of Libertas, offering the capital city of Leo and secretly funding Duke Vetus during the rebellion, though the Federation had yet to give an answer.

  Vane had offered to mobilize the Nightwatch and the Venator Order to hunt them down one by one and assassinate them. I had immediately rejected the idea since it would be grueling to spare the Order's personnel during this time. It would also take months to dig those traitorous rats out of their holes.

  Why waste the resources and personnel when I could simply invite the traitors to their own execution?

  "Ensure that the invitations sent to the remaining Eastern nobles are particularly... welcoming," I instructed.

  "Stress the importance of looking toward the 'future unity' of the Principality. Make it explicitly clear that they are encouraged to bring their immediate families, specifically their sons and, most importantly, their unmarried daughters."

  "Your Highness... you are baiting them."

  "I am giving them exactly what they want to see."

  The psychology of the aristocracy was tragically predictable. They were creatures of immense greed and boundless arrogance. They would do whatever it took to reach the top position in their hierarchy, even if they had to sell out their sons and daughters.

  By inviting them to the capital for my twentieth birthday and explicitly requesting the presence of their daughters, I was painting a very specific, highly alluring picture. I was a young, victorious, and most importantly, unmarried Prince Regent—the future sovereign.

  "They will mistake this grand invitation as an olive branch."

  "They will assume that with the Marquess dead, I am seeking to pacify the East through political marriage or by establishing new friendships to secure my reign. Their ambition will completely blind them to the danger."

  They would put on their finest silks, polish their family jewels, and ride directly into the heart of my capital, desperately hoping to catch my eye and secure a place in the new regime.

  They would bring their heirs and their daughters, delivering their entire bloodlines straight into my hands.

  "The Venator Order has already begun securing the perimeter of the grand ballroom."

  "The underground holding cells have been cleared and prepared. We have enough chains for all of them."

  Vane's raspy voice echoed from the shadowed corner of the office, confirming that the Nightwatch was already executing the hidden phase of the plan.

  "Good."

  The week-long festival would be a masterpiece of political theater. I would smile, I would drink their wine, and I would dance with their daughters. I would let them bask in the illusion of safety and grandeur for six entire days and execute my plan.

  "Send the couriers," I commanded.

  "It shall be done, Your Highness," she bowed deeply.

  I turned my chair to look out the grand window of my study, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting long, blood-red shadows across the bustling capital.

  I couldn't wait to see the looks of absolute shock on their faces.

  (Continue....)