Chapter 62
“Yes, that’s correct.”
At that moment, Nata hesitated to share the information, saying it was only a rumor.
Still, I asked what it was, curious to hear even that much. After a pause, he spoke carefully.
“Um… are you aware of how Goldrail earned their noble title?”
“I’ve never heard.”
“It was because of military provisions.”
Originally, Goldrail was a mid-sized merchant group.
Then, by supplying provisions to the Western Army and being recognized for their contribution, they were granted the title of Baron.
They delivered military supplies all the way to the Western front line, crossing mountain ranges and aiding in the war effort.
“…Was that even possible?”
Do merchant groups usually go that far?
I didn’t know much about the military, but the whole thing sounded too dramatic to take at face value.
Seeing my skeptical expression, Nata nodded as if he understood.
“We also found it strange.”
He explained that several things didn’t align with the commonly known version of the story.
First of all, the Western Army’s food situation at the time wasn’t that dire.
They could procure supplies locally, and the troops infiltrating the front line were small in number, so there hadn’t been any problems caused by a food shortage.
It would’ve been helpful, sure—but not worth taking risks for.
But Goldrail deliberately took those risks.
They forced a large shipment of provisions to the Western Army at the cost of dozens, even hundreds, of mercenary lives.
“Regardless of the result, there were so many casualties that they had no choice but to acknowledge the effort. It was too extreme a delivery to be simply for profit.”
“So they became nobles for that? Isn’t it obvious they were aiming for the title?”
“The achievement was only recognized because the Western Army won. And that victory wasn’t assured until long after the supply run.”
“So you’re saying Goldrail gambled before even knowing the outcome?”
“Yes.”
They basically handed over a gift they didn’t need to, and it was so excessive that the military had no choice but to reward them for it… even if they didn’t ask for it.
“The problem is, the casualties became the army’s responsibility.”
“…Ah.”
Goldrail got the medal for delivering supplies, but the deaths that occurred during that delivery were blamed on the army.
To the public, it looked like the military had ordered Goldrail into action.
But if the army tried to say, “We didn’t ask for it”…
‘Then Goldrail would be seen as a shameless noble who only reaped the rewards. And since the war was won, no one could really deny their contribution.’
I could see how the complicated power dynamics played out.
“As a result, within the Western Army, there’s a rumor that Goldrail values money over human life. In fact, they canceled the supply contract the moment they were granted noble status.”
In the end, they were war profiteers—exploiting the situation for personal gain.
Contrary to their reputation, Goldrail’s rise to nobility was shabby and unscrupulous.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Was it helpful?”
“Hmm… well…”
It was certainly interesting, but unfortunately, not particularly useful to me right now.
What capital allowed Goldrail to take such a gamble? How did they anticipate victory…? A lot of things were suspicious, but none of it could be used as leverage.
What I was interested in right now was Jane and her connection to Goldrail—not Goldrail’s ties to the Western Army.
As I debated whether there was other information I could use, a sudden question popped into my mind.
“By the way, Sir Nata—how did Goldrail even land the contract to supply provisions in the first place? You said they were just mid-sized at the time.”
There were no preferential treatments for small companies in this world. Usually, only large-scale merchant groups dealt with noble clients.
So it was strange that Goldrail had been the chosen supplier for the Western Army.
To my question, Nata gave a very simple answer.
“They bribed them.”
“…Huh?”
“I heard they launched an enormous bribery campaign. Just the flour alone that they gave the Western Army supposedly numbered in the hundreds of sacks.”
I blinked, confused.
Bribery was definitely a negative word—but Nata had said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Wait, Sir Nata—are you saying Goldrail secured the contract using improper means?”
“A contract…? No, it wasn’t improper. It was legitimate bribery.”
There’s no such thing as legitimate bribery.
My whole understanding of common sense started to unravel.
“No, I mean…”
We went back and forth for a while, caught in a linguistic tug-of-war.
Only then did I finally understand what Nata meant.
In this world—in the Empire—merchants had no concept of formal bidding.
Here, contracts were granted solely through bribery and gift-giving.
They didn’t care about projected value or estimated worth. Only the “trust” built through bribes mattered.
…It’s been a while since I’ve felt this much like a modern person.
Was the Middle Ages like this too?
Considering they had guilds, I’d have thought they had something resembling bids… but clearly not in the Paon Empire.
Anyway, in this system, when nobles needed merchants, they simply announced it to the market and judged the offers based on the “trust” established by bribes.
The higher the value of the bribe, the more trustworthy the merchant was considered.
Of course, all the goods given as bribes were pocketed by the noble, so it was a win-win for them.
So basically, no one evaluates the actual business capability. The one who offers better bribes is assumed to be the better partner… Wait a second.
“Sir Nata, do you know how exactly those bribes are exchanged?”
“Apologies. I’ve only heard about the process, not the detailed method…”
“No worries.”
I could ask Jane about that later.
What mattered most was learning that contracts with nobles weren’t based on merit—they could be won by anyone, regardless of status.
Which meant Jane had a shot too.
In that case… this could work.
Jane’s strengths and abilities, the problems with merchant groups like Goldrail, and the simple bribery-based contract system… There was definitely a strategy here.
The more transparent the system, the more ways there were to exploit it.
This will all come down to Jane.
I could leverage my title as the marchioness, but that would cheapen the value of Jane’s revenge.
Even if it resolved the problem immediately, it wouldn’t help us in the long term.
My influence wasn’t that strong—I might even become a hindrance.
My role would simply be to provide the opportunity. Overcoming the challenge had to be entirely Jane’s doing.
Though of course, I’d give her advice.
And with Jane… that alone would be enough. She was a genius, after all.
Satisfied with my thoughts, I lay back on the bed.
Seeing me relax, Nata gave a small smile.
“…Looks like the plan is forming?”
“Roughly.”
“As expected of the Great Madam.”
Ugh, that kind of praise is just pressure.
I turned my head sharply to glare at him.
He only smiled in response, meeting my eyes.
Sometimes I forgot, but he really did have the looks of a proper fae.
These days, he smiled often enough that he could light up a dark room on his own.
“What sort of plan is it?”
“Nothing much… Ever heard of a presentation?”
“No, I have not.”
“It’s a thing. Worn by a guy in jeans and a black turtleneck, looking perpetually annoyed, doing some kind of impressive talk.”
“…?”
As expected, Nata didn’t understand a word of it—but he didn’t press further.
And I couldn’t explain it any better either.
There was no way to define a ‘revolutionary product pitch’ in this world.
Anyway, from now on, Jane would have to stop being Goldrail’s youngest daughter—and become an apple.
I’d simply provide the stage for that transformation.
“Looks like you’ll be busy.”
“About three months’ worth? Should wrap up by late spring… Sigh, I wanted to rest a bit longer.”
How long had it even been since the New Year’s banquet? And now something new again.
I let out a sigh, and Nata replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“But you’re going to help her, right?”
“With things like this going on, how could I pretend not to see?”
“You hate it when hardworking people go unrewarded, don’t you?”
“Well, that’s just…”
I was about to say “Of course” but stopped—because of a sudden wave of déjà vu.
That line… I’d heard it somewhere before.
I glared at Nata suspiciously, but he only smiled quietly.
* * *
It wasn’t until the next evening that Jane finally woke up.
After sleeping for an entire day, she groggily sat up from bed, disheveled.
“Oh my, you’re awake.”
A servant, who had been tidying up the room, immediately went to inform the others outside.
Jane couldn’t even answer before the maid was gone, leaving her dazed and staring around the room.
This is… the annex, huh.
