The tavern in Ironwood was alive with excitement. All tables had been cleared aside to make room, replaced by rows of chairs arranged for auction-goers to clearly see the auctioneer.
Shona was tasked with leading the auction, standing behind an improvised platform constructed from an empty wine barrel, placed against the wall opposite the entrance.
This arrangement seemed slightly improper to Victor, who believed such a remarkable woman should grace only prestigious events, not stage a spectacle before merchants lewdly ogling her.
Unaware of his own reactions, he developed a sense of envy towards this girl, resenting how other men lusted after the very person he favored but couldn't openly acknowledge. Sitting to Shona's left, he could only grunt irritably.
As the territory's representative and guarantor of the event, Victor aimed to underscore its importance.
Meanwhile, Shona rapped a carpenter's hammer against the barrel, urging silence.
— Kindly pay attention! Today, we're auctioning off the technique for extracting salt from seawater. Initial bid starts at five golden coins, minimum increase is one golden coin. The auction will repeat five times, awarding this 'secret' to five winning bidders, — she announced to the assembled merchants, repeating what Victor had instructed.
Shona had never partaken in an auction and had no clue how they operated. Likewise, Victor had never attended one, relying on film and game references for guidance.
Instantly after stating the rules, the merchants murmured in confusion, prompting Shona to clarify further, taking fifteen minutes before the Baltas' inaugural auction commenced, wrapping up within half an hour.
Seated to Shona's side, Victor oversaw the proceedings, departing only when the auctioneer's hammer struck for the final time.
He was elated, as the sale earned him a whopping three thousand golden coins. Now focused on building hotels and homes, he...
"Dammit, the wedding! Did I lose my mind entirely?"
Only then did he remember that the wedding was imminent, leaving him scrambling to find accommodation for guests—even his future wife.
Dispatching a soldier to summon the architect, Victor promptly mounted his horse, accompanied by Linea, racing toward the castle.
Galloping along the road, he mulled over the upcoming ceremony and its aftermath, glancing sideways to notice the female knight studying him.
— Is something wrong with me? — he inquired.
— I simply don't understand you, — she retorted. — Why concern yourself with common folk and treat merchants so graciously?
Amused by her questioning, Victor appreciated her candor. Unlike him, locals lacked exposure to his world, revealing how essential a robust populace was for prosperity.
With pre-planned blueprints transferred from his previous life, advancing his territories and elevating living standards became more manageable.
However, there was a deeper motivation: witnessing improvements boosted morale. Why hesitate? Providing sustenance increased productivity twofold, garnering loyalty without demands. Investing was worthwhile.
— That's it—I'm tired of watching hunger, — he quipped.
Stunned, Linea stared at him, blending astonishment with admiration.
At that moment, he embodied a seasoned traveler transformed into a pragmatic leader, delivering concise statements.
Often, she observed how Victor abstained from bragging, devoting hours to labor, rarely returning to the castle, extending generosity to all within his dominion. Subconsciously, she disregarded his nobility, conditioned otherwise to avoid peasant interaction.
Nevertheless, during her tenure in Baltas, not a single day passed without touring neighboring settlements.
Daily excursions fostered growth, instilling newfound awareness and learning. She awaited each dawn eagerly, embarking on expeditions as a knight.
Baroness Linea abandoned childish aspirations, drawn to Baltas' dynamic environment.
Yearning to inspect the guard's new armaments and drills, she aspired to join military campaigns orchestrated by this industrious baron.
Previously, she shadowed her father's soldiers, embarrassment initially clouding her judgment, yet immersion in a military encampment dispelled illusions.
Klint soldiers—or rather, civilians masquerading as warriors—wore fragmented leather armor, wielding obsolete spears. Gathering this ragtag assembly, they advanced to combat.
In that expedition, Linea contributed minimally, adopting lessons to fulfill her destiny as a landowner. Exposure shattered remnant ambitions.
Residing in Baltas exposed alternatives: Lord Victor molded raw recruits into capable fighters.
Training consumed entire days, void of trivial pursuits. During her tenure, marked distinctions emerged.
Soldiers strutted proudly, upholding strict protocols, polite to all visitors.
Encountering Linea, Victor, or Algandis provoked uniform responses: instant respectful salutes. Initially foreign, she adapted, encouraging proper greetings.
Through shared endeavors, Baroness Linea refined her identity. Enhanced responsibility influenced her training regimen, discipline, and work ethic.
Crafting this transformation, Victor refrained from fanfare, tirelessly pursuing goals, resonating strongly with her.
Still, one dilemma lingered: whenever the duchess was mentioned, she felt uneasy. Desiring continuity, she dreaded Sylvia's arrival.
Ordinarily, mingling with a duchess (from disparate class) would prove impossible, but now, it wasn't desired.
Linea presumed Victor would alter, fearing his engagement with this outsider. Observers detecting her subtle glances and secret smiles understood her fondness.
Among castle residents, perhaps only Victor overlooked her developing attachment, assuming his evolving regard escaped detection.
Lacking relationship savvy, Linea interpreted their rapport as typical employer-subordinate dynamics.
Both rode toward the castle, lost in private reflections. Upon spotting distant ramparts, Victor spurred his mount forward.
Reaching the interior, he hastily strode to his study, ordering Kerali—grandfather Arthur's newly appointed craftsman—to report immediately.
Pulling out several diagrams mid-journey, he laid them on his desk, piecing together a comprehensive blueprint he had nurtured for years, adding or deleting components.
Indeed, this sketch encapsulated his modest dream: a personal residence.
Spanning two floors, appropriately sized, equipped with functional rooms, utilities, a ballroom, central heating, plumbing, and sewage system.
Now confronted with one hurdle: insufficient time. Mobilizing all available staff wouldn't ensure timely completion.
Further complications arose: lacking glass, metal piping, and vital construction materials.
Lost in deliberation, a knock echoed, signaling Kerali's arrival, resembling a bent wizard.
— My lord, you summoned me? — the elderly man inquired.
— Yes, can you craft crystalline glass? — Victor quizzed.
— Absolutely, my lord. It's elementary alchemy, acquired early in apprenticeship, — Kerali replied.
Victor directed him to the designs, illustrating window locations and approximate sizes.
— Master, completing solo will require the entire winter, — Kerali predicted.
"No, that won't suffice—that translates to four wasted months," Victor mentally calculated, noted by Kerali.
— Master, I can engage fellow artisans, — Kerali proposed.
— Excellent, but what would be the cost? — Victor countered, aware that nothing came freely.
— Calculations indicate four thousand golden coins, inclusive of materials, — Kerali disclosed.
Victor nearly dropped his jaw, agog at the sum.
"They're insane here—where does this pricing originate?" he wondered.
— Master, the material is exorbitantly priced, and extensive quantities of crystal are required for this edifice, — Kerali rationalized, seemingly telepathic.
Studying the layout, Kerali expressed delight.
Stone dwellings typically lacked aesthetics, resembling fortifications.
Here, however, he glimpsed elegance: abundant windows, refined architecture. Captivated, he resolved to contribute actively.
Interruptions arrived: a guard announced the architect's presence.
Nirtra, upon entering, surveyed Victor's vision, ordered to revise it expeditiously.
Already selected, the plot lay west of Rivenholme and south of Akiron.
Logically, another village and agricultural expansion were feasible, but Victor preferred proximity to a river traversing the estate.
His chosen site encompassed verdant meadows, adjacent woodlands, creating an idyllic vista.
Strategically sound, it neighbored the future military citadel.
Proximity to the brickworks reduced transit costs.
Crucially, the manor resided equidistant from rural communities, simplifying oversight.
Post-examination, Victor summarily expelled both men, hurrying to Eron, where cement experimentation progressed. Needing validation, he reviewed preliminary findings.
Emerging onto the street, he encountered Algandis strolling with his son, recounting anecdotes animatedly. Father-son bonding radiated sincerity.
Avoiding disturbance, Victor mounted his steed, dashing toward his tasks, followed by Linea, exhaling audibly.
Longing for respite, she hoped today's travels ended hereafter, discomfort from prolonged riding consuming her lower back. Complaints were reserved for later, confiding solely in Lulu, her sole confidante within the castle.
Hours later, after rigorous rides, they reached the village's southern outskirts, discovering a kiln beyond city limits.
(Informative note: Limestone consists of petrified seashells and skeletal remains of extinct aquatic fauna. Calcium derived from it forms properties integral to concrete creation.)
Victor observed workers hauling finished products in wooden buckets, cord handles replacing conventional grips. Six miniature hillocks, each measuring roughly a meter, indicated diverse experimental outputs.
Constructing the kiln proved straightforward, utilizing readily available clay and bricks. Its utility, however, remained ambiguous to everyone besides Victor, whose comprehension remained partial.
Placed in a shallow excavation, it facilitated efficient loading of limestone through elevated platforms, preventing worker collisions.
Experienced stonemasons, builders of the brick kiln, executed this installation skillfully.
Nearby, examining a heap, Victor identified a fresh challenge: cement granulated inconsistently, contrasting starkly with his familiar fine-textured variant.
"Fate conspires against simplicity, doesn't it?"
Chagrin overwhelmed him. Hoping to commence construction post-certification, he now faced erecting a mill—ideally wind-driven, given local topography.
Devoid of mill-building expertise, he opted for new trials.
Contemplating solutions and observing laborers ferrying kiln-processed goods, he simplified their burden, commissioning a primitive wheelbarrow design.
Refraining from disclosure, he sketched designs, authorizing continuation. Remounting, he galloped toward Ironwood, selecting carpenters to assemble wheelbarrows and recruit appropriate individuals for mill construction in Eron.
Linea, noticing his northbound detour, brimmed with indignation, muttering complaints about this uncouth baron neglecting her gender.