My first encounter with the financial steward of the Olbia barony was quite the spectacle.
As soon as he saw me, he clapped his hands over his mouth and staggered back.
“L-Lord Fabio de Medici?” he exclaimed.
I had to stifle a sigh. I’m not Medici, I’m Rothschild. Perhaps the recent update to my family name hadn’t yet reached everyone. It had only been a week, after all. For a vassal, mistaking a noble’s name could be a death sentence depending on the situation.
Still, I’m a generous man. I’d let it slide this time.
“It’s true that I changed my family name just a week ago, but it’s unacceptable to confuse it. I am Baron Rothschild—Fabio de Rothschild, First of my House.”
He stammered, “As the steward, I was here for a meeting with the president of the Trialle Merchant Guild regarding essential supplies for the Olbia barony. Why are you here, my lord?”
It was a flawless cover. The steward meeting with a guild president to discuss budget matters is as natural as drinking beer instead of water. But for those who knew the backstory, it was laughable.
Did he really think I didn’t know about his debt struggles caused by excessive “upkeep expenses”?
I casually waved a copy of his debt bond, and his face drained of color.
“How is that in your possession, my lord? That’s the bond I received when I borrowed from the Trialle Merchant Guild...”
All it took was a wave of that bond, and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. I hadn’t even drawn a sword, yet the effect was far more chilling.
“What’s important,” I said, “is that I extended a favor to you, Lucio.”
Humans naturally fear the incomprehensible. Just as people tremble watching footage of the deep sea or the vast cosmos, the unknown terrifies. Now imagine a monster who could end your life showing inexplicable kindness.
I wanted to give this fellow some time to reflect on my generosity.
“You’ve been under pressure to ‘retire’ for half a year, haven’t you, Lucio? And because the Trialle Guild sensed you were of declining value, they asked you to increase your repayments. I heard you even had to sell a family heirloom to keep up.”
“H-how do you know all this?” he stuttered.
Thanks to Roberto’s intelligence-gathering from within your very household. He’d brought back all sorts of information—from the baron’s scandalous affairs to his childish hobbies. I had specialists verify the truth, so I now held high-value information.
“No need for me to explain that. After all, you wouldn’t reveal your hand in a game of poker. What matters is this.” I paused, giving him a sly grin.
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“All the information you offered to the Trialle Guild is now in my hands. Because of it, I avoided a significant risk.”
It was amusing, acting like some villain from a TV drama, revealing secrets the protagonist hadn’t known. On TV, this usually leads to the villain’s downfall, as the revelation spins out of control. But reality differs from fiction.
Besides, Lucio could never reveal our dealings. If even a whisper of his betrayal to his master reached the wrong ears, his entire family would hang.
Who would spare a traitor who sold out their own house? Even a certain half-noble who once tried to interfere with my business “passed away naturally” after committing an act that unknowingly betrayed his patron duke.
Lucio wasn’t the sort to die for his master. He’d sold secrets to another merchant guild over a mere debt. This was a man who’d betray anyone to save his own skin.
“So, I paid three months’ interest on your behalf. Notice how you didn’t receive any collection notice this month?”
Lucio froze in his tracks, only his pupils shaking as if an earthquake had hit.
“But if you refuse my offer,” I continued, “in two months, the collection notices will start again.”
Sweat poured down his face in torrents. He looked like he could bathe in it.
“Anything, anything you wish! I’ll even lick your shoes if you command it!”
I had no desire for such a pitiful creature among my own ranks, but to pull secrets from another house, someone like him was perfect. For the right price, he’d do the dirtiest work.
“Bring me your house’s secrets.”
“What sort of secrets, my lord?”
“Every noble house harbors scandalous secrets that must remain hidden—embezzlement, assassination contracts, things like that.”
Delve deep enough, and you may even find someone mad enough to sell their serfs to pagans.
“If you bring me something worthwhile, I’ll buy up this bond myself.”
Lucio tilted his head, uncertain.
“You know I’m not short on money. Bring me useful information, and I’ll never ask you to repay a cent on this bond.”
The bond was worth a thousand gold coins, with annual compound interest of forty percent. While the interest wasn’t exorbitant, it would take all Lucio’s income to cover it each year. And as a noble, he needed to spend above his earnings for his “upkeep” and dignity, so the debt only grew larger every year. The compounding interest had ballooned this bond to 2,200 gold coins already.
“Is that really true?”
“I don’t go back on my word. If you want to survive, bring me valuable information.”
“Thank you, truly!” Lucio said, nearly bowing to the floor.
A man blinded by greed was easy to control.
“Oh, and take this,” I said, tossing a pouch of twenty gold coins at his feet.
It was a generous amount, but if you threaten someone with a knife, then shower them with gold, they’ll swear loyalty on the spot. Greedy beasts are best controlled with money.
“Open it on your way out. You may go now.”
Leaving the inn, Lucio struggled to catch his breath. He’d come expecting a meeting with the Trialle Guild, only to encounter one of the fastest-rising nobles of our time. It felt as if he’d been struck by lightning in his sleep.
“I’d heard he was a monster for becoming a baron at such a young age, but this... this is no mere monster. He’s practically a Leviathan. My lord Olbia wouldn’t stand a chance.”
It wasn’t that Baron Olbia was incompetent—just that his opponent was incomparable. Remembering the meeting alone left Lucio sweating profusely.
He’d driven Lucio to the edge with natural ease, leaving the impression that any defiance could send Lucio and his family to the gallows.
“A madman who can see everything in the palm of his hand.”
Lucio’s own master, Baron Olbia, hadn’t even noticed his financial troubles—he’d managed to hide them so far. But this man had discovered it all so easily.
This is beyond human.
To Fabio, it was just a matter of piecing together information to reel in his prize—a simple enough task.
“I’d love to strike back at that fiend, but...” Lucio glanced at the pouch in his hand.
He’ll pay handsomely for secrets, and promises my family’s safety...
Lucio knew he’d been corrupted. Once tainted, there was no going back. To betray Baron Rothschild was death. To disobey even slightly would mean death.
But to comply, with the promise of wealth?
“Forgive me, my lord, but I must survive,” he muttered.
Then, he turned to scrutinize his house’s ledgers. He wasn’t reducing expenditures; rather, he was searching for fatal flaws.
All of Lucio’s neatly organized vulnerabilities would soon end up in Fabio’s hands.
Quietly, so that no one outside the stage would ever notice.