Before she could finish, Arthur raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. His voice was calm but firm.
"I know you are old enough to make your own choices," he said, his gaze steady. "But even so, I suggest you speak with your parents first. Consider what you are about to give up. Think carefully, and before this banquet ends, give me your answer."
A murmur spread through the hall, the tension shifting from shock to quiet contemplation. Some nobles nodded in approval of Arthur’s measured approach, while others whispered among themselves, speculating on what Audrey would do.
Marquis Henry’s expression remained unreadable, but his fingers, still curled into a fist, had eased slightly.
Audrey, however, did not look relieved by the reprieve. She swallowed hard, nodding once. "Then, I will return with my answer."
Audrey rose to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. She turned swiftly and made her way back to her father’s table, the weight of every gaze in the room pressing down on her.
Marquis Henry sat in silence, his expression unreadable as she approached. The nobles around him parted slightly, eager to witness what would unfold next. As she reached him, the murmurs quieted, the air thick with unspoken tension.
She lowered her head in respect but did not hesitate. "Father," she said, her voice steady, "I wish to speak with you."
Marquis Henry exhaled slowly, swirling the wine in his goblet before setting it down with deliberate care. His piercing gaze locked onto his daughter’s. "You have already spoken enough tonight, Audrey," he said, his tone measured yet heavy with meaning. "Do you understand the weight of what you just declared?"
Audrey met his gaze without flinching. "I do."
The marquis studied her for a long moment before gesturing for her to sit beside him. The hall remained hushed, ears straining to catch every word.
"You are my daughter, a noble of this kingdom," he said, his voice low but firm. "And now, before the entire court, you have declared yourself willing to throw all of that away. For what? Machines? Knowledge?"
"For something greater," Audrey said without hesitation. "For something real. This—" she gestured around the hall, at the nobles who thrived on status and politics "—is not what I want my life to be."
Marquis Henry let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "And you believe knowledge alone will sustain you? " He leaned forward slightly. "Do you think King Arthur made that offer out of kindness?"
Audrey’s fingers tightened in her lap. "No. He tested me. He wanted to see if I would break under pressure or if I truly meant my words."
"And if I forbid it?" her father asked, voice quiet but laced with an unspoken challenge.
Audrey hesitated for the first time that night. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "Then… I would still go."
Visit frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓ for the b𝘦st novel reading experience.
Marquis Henry exhaled, a weary yet resigned expression settling over his features. "I always knew you were different," he murmured. "But I never imagined the day would come when my daughter would choose gears and ink over titles and land." He shook his head, then lifted his goblet, his gaze lingering on Audrey. After a pause, he let out a quiet chuckle—one filled with both amusement and inevitability. "If this is truly your decision, then I suppose I have no choice but to support you."
Audrey’s eyes widened, her face lighting up with relief and excitement. "Thank you, Father!" she said, her voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and determination. "It will only be for a month—then, I will return as your daughter again."
The nobles who had been eavesdropping exchanged glances, their hushed whispers weaving through the banquet hall like ripples in a pond. Some regarded Audrey with fascination, intrigued by the rare sight of a noble willingly stepping away from her status. Others, however, saw it as reckless folly—an unthinkable decision for the daughter of a marquis.
Despite the murmurs, the banquet continued, the music and laughter gradually returning. As the evening drew to a close, Audrey approached Arthur once more, her expression resolute. She met his gaze without hesitation. "I have made my decision. I am willing to accept."
Arthur gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Once you sign the confidentiality magic contract, you will officially begin as my apprentice."
With that, the grand feast came to an end. As the nobles and guests slowly departed, only a select few remained behind—Audrey, along with the three chosen representatives: Marquis Wycliffe, Marquis Ainsworth, and the merchant Hawthorne.
…
Seated in a private chamber away from the lingering guests, the final negotiations were concluded. The flickering gemstone cast long shadows on the polished mahogany table as the terms were formally sealed.
After weighing the immense opportunity against the steep conditions, all three parties—Marquis Wycliffe, Marquis Ainsworth, and the merchant Hawthorne—agreed to Arthur’s terms. For the next three years, they would relinquish 75% of their profits in exchange for the exclusive right to sell the Linotype, as well as lending their workers to construct and train under Arthur’s craftsmen. This arrangement ensured that only those with the proper expertise and resources could enter the industry, solidifying Arthur’s control over the technology’s distribution.
As the agreement stipulated, each of the three would send their most trusted workers to Arthur’s facilities, where they would undergo rigorous training to master the construction, maintenance and development of the Linotype. During this period, all machines produced would be sold under Arthur’s oversight, with the majority of the earnings flowing directly into his coffers.
However, their investment was not merely short-term. Once the three-year period ended, the deal would transition into its second phase. The trained workers would return to their respective domains, fully equipped to manufacture the Linotype independently. In return for the exclusive knowledge they had gained, they would continue to pay Arthur 20% of their profits indefinitely. This ensured that while they could produce and sell the machines freely, Arthur maintained a permanent stake in the industry, collecting a share of every transaction made.
With the terms finalized, the contracts—imbued with magic to prevent any betrayal—were signed, their runes glowing faintly as they bound the agreement into law. The deal was set. The future of printing had been decided, and Arthur had secured not only a steady stream of wealth but also powerful allies among both the nobility and commerce.
As the three prepared to depart, Arthur leaned back slightly, his gaze steady yet inviting. "If you have the time," he said with a hint of amusement, "come to the fireworks show. It will be a sight worth seeing."