Chapter 44 Under a magnifying glass, part 1
Vittorio sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Every minute of this conversation felt like a year, and by now he could've been his own grandfather.
"No one will confiscate your stocks. The Oliveira family honestly bought the supplies for this military campaign. So I repeat one last time—you. Won't. Raise. Prices."
The head of the merchant's guild of Sanremo di Mare (and neighboring cities) chewed his cheek, eying Vittorio with evident doubt. "But this isn't your right to dictate our prices, signore Oliveira! With all due respect, you are not the lord of this land yet…"
Vittorio wanted to growl now. This was how half of his audiences went. 'Oh, with all due respect, boy, won't you call your dad here?' he mocked inwardly.
For the last few days since Father's leave, Vittorio had to be a lord in his stead. Dealing with missives and paperwork was the easier part—Vittorio had a head for ledgers and a Mage's Hand for writing AND improving his mana control at once.
The audiences were much harder. Mother helped when she could, but she was in a similar position with Vittorio. Men would just say something like, 'Lady, why won't you let men speak amongst themselves?'
The three of them stood in the Oliveira's audience hall, which was built right on the first lever of their tower. It was a grand place, built to awe and intimidate visitors. From the tall arched windows, midday sun threw golden stripes at the long red carpet that led straight to the lord's seat. Not a throne, but a large, towering chair on a raised dais.
Usually Gianni sat here; but today, Vittorio took his place.
Next to him, on a slightly smaller chair, sat Vittorio's mother. Emilia, as always, was dressed impeccably. There was not a strand out of place from her elaborate hairdo.
She caught Vittorio's glance and slightly shook her head. A wordless call to calm down.
Vittorio took a deep breath and did her best to follow her advice. It helped—a new strategy of conversation came to Vittorio's head. He turned towards the merchant again and smiled.
The merchant smiled back with a glimpse of unease in his eyes.
"You won't gain profit from raising prices, signore. My father is on his way from the border. His forces were victorious just this morning, and the public announcement of this will happen very soon. There will be no panic and no deficit to justify your actions."
"I understand, signore Oliveira." The merchant bowed his head. Vittorio watched with satisfaction how the greedy thoughts moved in his eyes.
He'd come to the same conclusion.
"Then this audience is over," Vittorio said.
The merchant took the hint and left. Vittorio looked around the empty hall, then addressed a guard who stood at the main entrance.
"Is there anyone left?"
The guard peeked outside and shook his head. "No, signore Vittorio."
With a loud huff, Vittorio stretched. "Finally! Mother, do you know how Father manages doing it every week?"
Emilia smiled slightly. "Patience comes with age and practice. When you grow older, you will be an even greater lord than he is."
Vittorio grinned, but his joy quickly dimmed. "What I'm going to lord over, if Cael's the heir? Tsk."
"You are still a powerful mage. You will have no trouble conquering a land of your own under our king's banners."
Vittorio shook his head. "But it won't be the same. It will be someone else's land… Not like this place. FAMILY's place."
Mother pursed her lips and said nothing. Which meant that she didn't have a good answer, either.
Vittorio clicked his tongue again and rose from his seat. "I'm going to—"
The sound of the opening door interrupted him. Inside walked a guard, shaken and pale.
"Signore Oliveira! There's a visitor asking to see your father," the guard said, missing the fact that he was speaking over his lord. "He introduced himself as Antonio Cattaneo, the Royal Inspector of Finances."
Emilia's eyes widened. "What an unfortunate coincidence, for him to come when Gianni is away. We will have to accommodate him during the wait."
Vittorio frowned. A Royal Inspector of Finances… The last one came to their tower four years ago. He didn't recall his name, but it wasn't Antonio. He did recall other details of the visit.
It happened in winter, and just like now, without a word of warning. The Royal Inspector had a pegasus mount, to Vittorio's amazement. He didn't let neither Vittorio nor Cael pet her, but they sneaked to the stables with a bunch of apples and did it, anyway.
The inspector himself was much more boring. He talked with Father about taxes and ledgers, checked that Gianni wasn't hiding any taxable funds from the kind, and left. The entire visit took two days.
"If this is a routine visit, then he likely just wants to see our accounting books, Mother," Vittorio said. "I can show them as well as Father could. Jericho!" he addressed the guard. "Let him in."
And if Vittorio dealt with the inspector before Father's arrival, then he would prove, once again, that he was a better heir than Cael. So much better that Father and all other lords would forget the normal order of inheritance.
The doors of the audience hall opened, and in walked a man, tall and dry as a stick. Even his clothes were dark blue, too simple and unadorned for an official of his status. The only spot of color was a Mage's Mark he wore on his chest like a medal, and even that held no gemstones—only four silver studs set in copper.
He walked towards the dais in long, brisk steps and drew to a halt two meters away from the chairs. There, he lowered his head in the slightest measure of a bow.
Anything less would've been offensive, even for someone of his rank. Vittorio was sitting here in his father's stead, after all. Like a lord.
"Young signore Oliveira, signora Oliveira," he greeted. "Where may I find Gianni Oliveira?"
"Father had left me to solve the matters of the land in his stead. I'm sure whatever is your mission here, signore Cattaneo, I can help you just as well."
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