Roots (2)

A majestic golden eagle sculpted in pure gold reflected sunlight from his table.

The carpets on the floor were imported goods that had crossed the sea from afar. Gorgeous arabesque patterns created with gold and silver threads were so blinding just by looking at them.

Even the ashtray for smoking a pipe and wiping off ashes was made of diamond. He wasn’t a smoker, so it was something he didn’t use except to throw it at his second son in front of his eldest daughter.

“Honorable Lord, What should I do?” the assistant, who stood haphazardly on the carpet, asked cautiously.

As soon as he read the letter from the Duke, he began to sway. The originally planned schedule and the life of his eldest son. The conclusion came quickly.

“He is the eldest son of the Isles family. There is no reason to take the loss.”

Sitting on a wooden chair in the office, Shylock gave instructions in a voice like ice, “Did you send the person to the Imperial Palace?”

“Yes. Rumor has it that the Duke of Winter is now trying to extort the property. As you said, it’s a risky choice, but….”

It was a strategy that could turn into a rumor that the financial power of the Isles fell while trying to attack the duke.

However, the target Shylock Isles was aiming for was a person worthy of the risk.

The aide quickly added in order to quell any possible distrust of the upper class.

“As instructed, we have made sure that it can enter the ears of Prince Marius. It was really helpful this time to give women and money to the nobles as usual. It is all thanks to your discerning foresight.”

Shylock shook his head once at the skillful flattery. “Everyone knows that Prince Marius is eager to enter the duchy. Since he is not someone who has such power in his hands, his movements will be delayed. In order to save the eldest son of the Isles family, I have no choice but to move. Be prepared to leave in an hour.”

“Yes, Honorable Lord. By the way….” the assistant paused for a moment. “If you want to save the master, you have to arrive within a month at least…”

If he was one day late, Rocus’s head would be stuck on the spear and adorn the duchy. The death of the eldest son was fatal and irreparable.

But one month.

He didn’t know if he could cross the road. Normally, it was impossible to schedule a time to enter because each gate had to be inspected.

Shylock leaned back on a wooden chair in the office and murmured, “Did you say it was impossible?” He clasped his hands and rested his elbows on his desk. “That’s the word I hate the most. Impossible. It is a word that only comes into the minds of those who are lazy, incompetent, and weak.”

The assistant scratched the back of the head and avoided his gaze.

As said, Shylock Isles was a self-made bourgeoisie who overcame the impossible. He was the son of a carriageman who carried cargo, and he was reborn as a high-class merchant dealing with nobles.

Even the poverty that had loomed over him was now his decoration.

An aide who knew his values

desperately shook his head. “I will break through the checkpoints by giving money at every passing gate. Send in the fast knights first and get the confirmation in advance so we can get through the gates without slowing down.”

“Yes. Can you do it?” Shylock rested his shoulder on the wooden chair as if satisfied. He came up with a solution, but somehow the response was lukewarm.

As usual, his thin and sharp eyes became even narrower. He worked hard to calculate how much he loved his eldest son.

“…Use all the Isles slush funds in the safe. If they want something, give it to them, and if they ask for money, make sure to double it.”

The aide’s mouth widened at the shocking decision. “M-my lord. So far…”

“Even if there is not a single coin left in the family slush fund, the operation is not affected. It’s my money. I can just earn it again, that’s it.” Shylock rolled his poisonous green eyes towards the assistant. “Crocus is my only successor. There is only one area left to refine. The other is still growing. What good is a father who can’t even do that for his children?”

“…You are right, Honorable Lord.” The assistant bowed.

Shylock seemed to be thinking something, then slowly got up from his chair with his cane. “I don’t have time.”

The lord, who was notorious for being harsh, was directly under his command, so the preparations for the trip were a breeze. He picked up some rarity and cash to buy a few estates and loaded them onto the carriage.

About an hour later, Shylock’s huge carriage drove out of the Isles mansion. His plan, as always, was successful.

A huge ebony carriage covered with gold leaf patterns passed through all the gates without check.

So, on the day of his son’s death with just over three days left, the carriage at the top of the Isles arrived at the western gate of Arcadia.

It was the land of the Duke of De Winter if he took only one step further.