Chapter 29 –The Ball and Unwanted Surprises (Part 1)
Chapter 29 – Ball and Unwanted Surprises (Part 1)
Right at breakfast, my mother and father were already at the table, exuding that unmistakable aura of someone who had spent the dawn engineering a diplomatic siege. They started early, trying to "marinade" me with seemingly unpretentious conversations about my romantic future.
— started Lady Sylvia, adjusting her posture with elegance. My son, have you ever thought about looking for a human woman? Or at least getting close to one? — delicately cutting a slice of bread and eyeing me with analytical eyes.
— Of course I have, Mother — I replied with the most innocent expression I could muster. — Thys is great, the cleaning girls do an impeccable job... Even Madame Cindy, the apothecary's owner, doesn't look so old when she gets all dressed up, she's a sweetheart and very kind. See? I talk to humans all the time.
I let out a muffled chuckle. My mother sighed, resting her cutlery on the table.
— Kaelen, don't be evasive. You know very well what I am trying to ask. Don't dodge the subject, says Sylvia.
— But Mother, you're asking if I have human friends! — I continued in the most ironic tone possible. — It's hard to have a broad social life since, if you remember well, I can barely leave the castle!
Lord Arl, seeing his wife lose patience, intervened with his firm noble and general voice:
— My son, your mother is trying to reach a rational agreement. Tomorrow you turn twelve, and everything is ready. She organized a presentation ball for the court. I strongly advise you to choose a suitor during the event. Otherwise, we will have to choose one for you.
I pressed my hands against my face and let out a dramatic groan of despair.
— For heaven's sake... I'm only twelve! You already want to marry me off? Can't you wait until I'm about... forty? Forty would be an excellent age!
— Forty years old, Kaelen?! Have you lost your mind? — Sylvia raised her voice, shocked. — At that age you'd already be a grandfather! What young woman would want you to generate heirs? Have you by any chance stopped to think about our House's situation and prestige?
— I have thought about it! And look what a brilliant idea: why don't the two of you just have another child? That solves one hundred percent of my problem.
I let out a sincere laugh. This time, it was my father who put his hand to his face, massaging his temples in a sign of pure parental exhaustion. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, hesitant.
— Kaelen... do you by any chance... like boys?
— What?! Have you gone crazy, Father? — I almost choked on my juice. — Of course I like women! It's just that girls my age are kids, they don't even have meat on their bones! How do you expect me to have any kind of interest?
— What do you mean?! — Sylvia widened her eyes, horrified. — What are you saying? You mean you like women... older ones?! Arl, we're going to have a serious talk later!
— Son, don't make my situation and yours any worse! — Arl glared at me, his brow furrowed with repressed anger. — If you say one more wisecrack, I swear I'll forbid you from going to the Adventurer's Guild after the ball.
— That's a dirty hit! — I protested, indignant. — I've been waiting for this license for four years! You promised!
— Then behave and have exemplary conduct at the ball. And you are forbidden to try to escape. Otherwise, I will personally arrange a "boneless" little girl from the high nobility for you to marry as soon as you turn fourteen.
— Why do you want me to get married so badly? I have so much to do, create, and explore in this world... Don't you think this is an absurd injustice?
— You've been warned: no wisecracks or escapades — decreed my father, unyielding.
Sylvia softened her expression slightly, leaning forward:
— Son, I have to ask you... What about your relationship with Valeria? How is it?
— What do you mean? She's extremely cute, intelligent, and affectionate — I replied, shrugging. — But as far as I know, you can't marry heteromorphs in this kingdom. And for you guys, who are so obsessed with heirs, as far as I know, it's not possible to have children between different species. Am I wrong?
My mother gave a light slap to her own forehead.
— Oh, my God... Son, I don't know if you know, or if Katriny ever mentioned this in your lessons, but the Great Goddess of Creation, Eris, when shaping the world, created all races. In the beginning, the races truly couldn't mix or bear fruit together. However, the Goddess of Abundance and Fertility, Cattleya, taking pity on living beings, blessed the unions so that bloods could merge and generate heirs. So yes, it is possible for you to have children with Valeria. It's just that it is not accepted by the nobility for her to be your first wife and lady of the house. Do you understand why?
While hearing that, my academic mind jammed for a second.
What kind of genetic soup is this?!, I thought to myself, holding back an internal laugh. These gods are terribly irresponsible with gene variation! For heaven's sake, literally! How on earth would this world's biologists build a family tree in this situation? "Look, my descendants are half turtle, half lion, and half earthworm, but since there was a marriage with a human, it generated a child of another race..."
I had to cough to disguise the laughter that threatened to escape. My mother, noticing my distraction, snapped her fingers.
— Kaelen! I am speaking seriously to you. If you've ever thought about marrying and having heirs with Valeria, you need to understand the law. Since she is a heteromorph, for our kingdom, unfortunately she could never be the first legitimate wife. And that goes for heteromorphs, Draconis, Vampires, Diabolisa, Neptunians, or Mixed. That is the strict law of Eldoria.
— Wow, what news! — I joked, waving my hands. — Does that mean I just need to have a human wife on paper and then I can have a wife from every race on the continent? What a fine example of social integration! I'll even reorganize my expedition schedule right now!
— Kaelen, what did I say about abusing?! — barked Arl.
— Husband... I have a deep fear of what this boy is going to pull off when he turns fourteen — murmured Sylvia, covering her face with her hands.
My father just sighed, staring into the void for a few seconds before turning his eyes back to me.
— Anyway... You already know the rules. You're free from heavy obligations until tomorrow, but today you need to go to town to fulfill your duties as a young noble to the local population. Unfortunately, your mother and I won't be able to have lunch or dinner with you. Tomorrow morning she will take care of the ball preparations, and I have an urgent diplomatic meeting with the Tigris Kingdom delegation.
— All right. But don't try to marry me off before I'm eighteen to any boneless girl, because I won't accept it at all.
— You brat! I'm going to take that soap you invented and scrub it in your mouth so you learn to have manners! — scolded Sylvia, though the corner of her mouth betrayed a smile.
— You can try! — I laughed. — But I'm serious: only after eighteen.
— The law allows marriage at fourteen — pointed out Arl. — We can try to hold off the court's pressure until you're sixteen or seventeen... But you'll already need to be officially engaged.
— I figured it out... You guys really want to chain me down with a marriage chain! This isn't fair. How am I supposed to design and create my engineering works with a wife tagging along demanding attention?
— Go to your room and get dressed — ordered my father, pointing to the door with a side smile. — Thys will call you shortly. See you tomorrow at the ball.
— Humph... All right.
I got up from the table and went to my room to change. Little did I know that would only be the prologue of my martyrdom.
As soon as I returned from my duties in town, I ran face-to-first into a court dance instructor waiting for me in the main hall. Long and torturous hours of training followed. To make matters worse, on the morning of the next day, the nightmare continued early: intensive posture classes, aristocratic greetings, ballroom etiquette, and how to behave in front of arrogant nobles.
Heavens..., I thought while trying to keep my back straight under the preceptress's stern gaze. Didn't they foresee that I'd be a total failure at this? Learning all this social juggling in a day and a half is inhuman torture! They didn't even let me breathe or go to the workshop... What a nefarious teaching method!
THE BALL
The presentation ball started punctually at six in the evening, bringing with it all that aristocratic charm I considered completely unnecessary. The initial protocol required me to stand right at the main entrance next to my father. After all, now that he had been elevated to Marquess, he needed to flaunt his new position before Eldoria's high nobility. Looking at Lord Arl, with his chest puffed out under his gala attire and heavy cape, stiff and puffed out, I immediately remembered history lessons about a certain Marquess of Pombal. The way he positioned himself, he literally looked like a puffed-up pigeon. The mental image of a pigeon-like heteromorph wearing feudal attire made me hold back a laugh, sensing my father's glare. I straightened my posture with a start, returning to the real world.
Visitors from all parts of the realm crowded our property, accompanied by their sons and daughters. There was a legion of counts, barons, another marquess coming from the Capital, and no less than five dukes.
— Wow, this is so interesting... — I muttered to my father with the purest tone of sarcasm I could muster. — I feel like I'm at an exhibition fair. The problem is that the product on display is me.
Lord Arl looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He pressed his lips together, visibly fighting the urge to laugh at my commercial analogy.
— Don't worry, my son. I'll try to arrange some suitor who has more meat on her bones for you — he joked, making a discreet gesture indicating the thoracic and hip region.
— Father... You're really determined to dispatch me from this castle soon, aren't you?
— It's just your fertile imagination working, Kaelen — whispered the Marquess, almost losing control of his laughter. — Now, behave and smile at the guests.
The endless two hours of reception felt like an eternity before the ball actually began at 20:00. I already felt like a robot with aching feet because of those damned dance lessons. When the time for free socialization around the hall finally arrived, to my immense ironic happiness, I couldn't spot Katriny or Valeria anywhere. I stood there, out of place like a fish out of water, but perfectly feeling the weight of being the night's prey. Female gazes shot daggers at me from a distance. Oh, gods, if you can give me a little help and teleport me from here to the other side of the world, I'd appreciate it. Just don't let me fry here, I thought desperately.
While trying to plot an escape route toward the kitchens, I began to mentally catalog the geopolitical forces that had attended in full force due to our province's exponential growth.
From our own province of Gaul, all allies and commercial partners made an appearance: Baron Claus Teguma, Viscount Brand de Silva, Count Valerius Vance (coming from the secondary branch of our own family), Baron Oakhaven, Count Pelagius, and Viscount Garrick.
From the problematic and neighboring province of Thalia came representatives seeking to reforge ties after the fall of the traitor Kenneth: Count Copperfield, Viscount Silken, Baron Ironwood, Viscount Belmonte, and the influential Marquess Altamira.
From the prestigious Royal Capital, the Crown sent very high-ranking figures: Duke Solarius, Marquess Helios, and Count Sterling.
From the verdant and agricultural province of Verdania came Duke Verdant and Count Marin.
From Auranis, the land of ores, appeared Count Cobalt, Viscount Vulcan, Baron Stonegate, and Baron Lode.
From Oceanus, the maritime power, docked Duke Nerius Oceana, Marquess Tempestus, Count Anchor, and Viscount Coral.
From the border region of Aethel-Border came Duke Aethel and Marquess Oakridge.
And finally, from the ultra-rich province of Val-Golden, arrived Duke Aurelius Val-Golden, Marquess Flavius, and Count Fortuna. Even from the mysterious province of Valley-Shadow appeared Marquess Umbra, Count Mist, and Viscount Raven.
Looking at the crowded hall, it was easy to decipher the web of interests: alliances over the invasion six years ago, curiosity about our city's accelerated growth, and, above all, the ambition to connect with the "genius" capable of revolutionizing fiefs. To the vast majority of them, I wasn't just a twelve-year-old celebrating a birthday; I was seen as an exotic, precocious genius capable of revolutionizing the infrastructure of an entire province. It was far too exhausting. For those statesmen, my biological weight was worth pure gold. If I eat a little more and turn into a little piglet, can I charge more?, I laughed, controlled, within my own thoughts.
My thoughts were interrupted when Lord Arl firmly gripped my shoulder. He pulled me toward the center of the hall. He wanted me to converse directly with the group leading the realm's politics: the five sovereign Dukes. While Dukes Aurelius, Aethel, and Nerius kept my father busy talking about the past war, Dukes Solarius and Verdant turned their attention entirely to me.
— Child — began Duke Solarius, crossing his arms and analyzing me from head to toe. — I heard you were behind the processing of sugar, salt, and more recently, soap. Where did you get so much information?
— Dear Duke, I had the assistance of Master Dwarf Balin here in the city to fill in the gaps of my knowledge, and for the salt, I had the help of Master Gromm from Teguma.
— And do you have an interest in other areas? Metal processing or artifacts?
— Dear Duke, I couldn't say much about the manufacture of arcane artifacts, as I don't possess an affinity with the processing of magicles. However, the refining and processing of heavy metals is a scientific branch much easier to approach. But for that, we would need severe modernization and thermal upgrades in some of our local smelting industries. If we had the right resources, perhaps I could achieve something promising.
Solarius's eyes shone with the typical greed of someone who controls iron mines.
— Then you claim you could increase the efficiency and scale of metal production? What do you believe you'd be able to deliver with your improvements? Five percent? Ten percent? Who knows, maybe a twenty percent increase?
— I couldn't quantify it with absolute precision due to this era's severe technological and machinery limitations. But I believe that, at the very least, we'd achieve an immediate increase of about fifty percent in extraction and initial purification. Now, if we managed to apply the concept of a point-to-point production line... That is, from the primary melting of the raw ingot to the mechanical molding of the product through automated motive force, or perhaps using a rudimentary machine driven by electrical induction... I think production would jump some five hundred percent. But we would still be stuck to ore transport bottlenecks. Of course, it would take at least ten masters to build and assemble everything...
I paused for a second, realizing I might have let my advanced engineering academic mind talk too much. Damn it... I don't know if their material strength could handle an automated assembly line right now, I reflected internally.
Duke Solarius turned pale. He took a step back, completely shocked.
— Just that?! You're telling me you need only ten Master artisans to quintuple the steel production of an entire province? Child... Do you really have any notion of the gravity and scale of what you're proposing with that calm tone of voice? That is no small thing!
He was used to bargaining with stubborn dwarves, but that child spoke like a veteran master artisan in disguise.
— I apologize if I sounded presumptuous, noble Duke — I replied, giving a slight bow of the head. — I only master the mechanical part and the technical physics of the process. As far as logistics administration and gold coin budgeting go, I cannot provide details, since my father, Marquess Arl, takes care of all financial governance.
The one who opened his eyes widest during that conversation was Duke Verdant. He controlled the realm's vast agricultural lands and was deeply interested in my seemingly absurd ideas. His spies and apothecaries had already gathered valuable information in Gaul's markets, and he knew that one hundred percent of all the madness the "Little Demon of Vance" verbalized ended up becoming practical and lucrative reality.
— Child, — intervened Duke Verdant, stepping forward with his eyes shining with expectation. — Verdant is an agricultural powerhouse, but we suffer from soil exhaustion. We need to leave land fallow for years. Do you have any idea how to solve this?
— I'm not an expert, Duke Verdant, but how do you organize your crops?
— What do you mean, child? — Verdant furrowed his brow, confused by the term. — We normally catalog which areas received wheat or barley seeds. After three or four consecutive plantings on the same land, we are forced to grant a fallow period of three to five years for the soil to rest and recover vitality.
— Ah, yes. I figured that was the management. You can simply apply crop rotation. — I smiled slightly, remembering basic medieval techniques — So, you can order your farmers to do the following: implement the four-field crop rotation system. Divide each farm's agricultural area into four distinct lots. In each cycle, one of those lots will rest for just one entire year. But instead of leaving it completely empty and unproductive, you will order the planting of leguminous creeping plants, like clover or alfalfa. Then, release herds of pigs and cattle to graze and defecate freely on that specific lot during the period. After that twelve-month cycle, order the peasants to plow the land, mixing the organic waste and ground vegetation with the soil. The soil will be renewed and ready for use without having to wait five years. Simple as that.
Verdant froze in absolute shock. And he did so without blinking, without hesitating, and without charging a single gold coin for that piece of invaluable information.
If this rotation method is real..., Verdant calculated mentally, feeling a chill down his spine, our annual food and grain production will at least double!
— Aside from that... — Duke Verdant's voice faltered for a brief moment, showing his anxiety. — Do you have any other practical idea that we can use immediately on our land?
— Besides that — I continued —, you can mix burned wood ashes into the soil or create large wooden boxes for composting with organic waste from the farms. Over time, that turns into the best food for plants.
I looked to the side and noticed that even my own father, Marquess Arl, had turned completely white and pale upon hearing my impromptu scientific answers. The other three Dukes suddenly stopped talking among themselves. All of them now kept their eyes fixed and dumbfounded in my direction, silence hanging like a heavy mist over our circle of conversation.
— With your due permission, noble Dukes. My parents demanded my duties at another point in the hall, I need to withdraw for a few moments.
— Of course... You may go, young Kaelen — replied Solarius and Verdant in a trance.
As soon as I walked away, Verdant grabbed Arl's shoulder:
— Arl... Do you have a real dimension of what your son just verbalized here in this hall? Do you understand the impact of this?
— Arl! — Duke Verdant interrupted, his voice trembling with economic excitement. — I am going to return to my province and personally apply this four-field rotation system your boy described. If this organic fertilization technique works and my harvests double, consider Verdania's total military and political support guaranteed to your House. My lineage will always maintain indestructible ties with the Vances! Excuse me, I need to withdraw immediately to speak with the advisors who came in my entourage!
Seeing that, Aurelius, Aethel, and Nerius surrounded my father like predators.
— Arl! We also want a period of exclusive audience with your son! — demanded Duke Nerius Oceana, firmly slamming his silver cup on the table.
— Exactly! Isn't he already at the regulatory age to find a bride and seal an official engagement under Eldoria's law? — pressed Duke Aethel, his eyes shining with the possibility of binding the genius to his lineage.
Duke Aurelius Val-Golden stepped forward, breaking into a massive diplomatic smile:
— I possess a legitimate daughter at the exact same age as Kaelen. She is extremely refined in the arcane arts. If you agree, Arl, we'll make the formal introductions between the two of them tonight!
— Wait a moment, Aurelius! You are addressing Arl aggressively and not letting the other Houses also present their proposals! — protested Duke Aethel, clenching his fists with feudal firmness. — Arl, listen to me: my youngest daughter is the most precious jewel of our House. She is only ten years old, but she possesses a pure and impeccable lineage. If you are interested in forging a blood alliance with Aethel-Border, we can draft the commitment scrolls right now!
It was Duke Nerius Oceana's turn to intervene, firmly striking his silver goblet on the banquet table to demand attention.
— My daughter is a bit older than your boy, Arl. But that doesn't matter at all on the political board! The important thing is that they meet and like each other. And she carries our lineage's sacred mark: long blue hair, as deep as the ocean itself. A true beauty of Oceanus.
Arl raised his hands, trying to stem the avalanche:
— Gentlemen, calm down! My son, unfortunately, has a very peculiar taste. He confessed to me earlier today that he prefers women considerably older than him. Furthermore, he put his foot down firmly and decreed that he will only accept getting married after sixteen years of age. The reason? He claims he needs time and isolation to, quote unquote, "create more absurd things for the realm's infrastructure."
Duke Aurelius Val-Golden furrowed his brow, but before he could speak, Lord Arl fired his diplomatic coup de grâce:
— And, to make cohabitation worse, Kaelen possesses the stubborn, feisty temperament of a legitimate forge dwarf! And you gentlemen know very well, from practical experience with that underground race, how difficult and exhausting it is to deal with their temperament to arrange suitable suitors...
I, who was watching everything from afar leaning against the marble column, almost choked on my own air.
--Father... Did you just use my lie about women with meat and compare me to a grumpy dwarf just to buy tactical time? Brilliant. A true military strategy genius, I laughed internally to myself.
— I don't think that artisan temperament or age preference are real problems for my House — retorted the ruler of Val-Golden, with an obstinate glint in his eyes. — We know how to cut rough stones.
Faced with that persistence, the other Dukes did not back down and continued the fervent debate, throwing onto the table the advantages of their provinces, commercial dowries, and military alliances. The political siege around House Vance was only just beginning.
