Chapter 87: The Booming Trade in Brown Sugar

Several of the small canteen's "head chefs" stood tall and proud before a copper basin, inside which rested the fruit of their labor: butter.

Lilia peered closely at the pale yellow, gelatinous substance in the basin, hesitating as she asked, "Is this really butter?"

One of the "chefs" replied obsequiously, "Madam Lilia, this is indeed butter! We followed the method provided by the lord, spent three days and nights, and used up four whole buckets of fresh milk, only to produce this tiny bit."

The complexity and extravagance of making butter left Lilia astonished; she was eager to taste it for herself.

She turned to Victor, requesting, "Victor, may I try some?"

Victor was secretly amused. These kitchen hands hadn’t mastered the art of cooking, but they were quick to boast. In truth, making natural butter was quite simple—just leave fresh milk overnight, skim off the cream, place it in a leather pouch, and knead it repeatedly until it turns to butter. The process was time-consuming and yielded little, which was why, as a lord, Victor naturally delegated such tasks to the canteen’s kitchen staff.

Though the butter was finally ready, no one knew if it was truly edible. Victor himself had no interest in trying it, nor would he let his woman be the first, so he cleared his throat and addressed the cooks.

"Ahem, I've told you before: as a true chef, you're responsible for your creations. You must taste them yourselves before offering them to guests. This is the professional standard, understand? Professionalism!"

Victor’s words made the "chefs" stand in awe. With grave expressions, each took up a spoon and reverently tasted the butter.

Seeing their thoughtful faces, Lilia asked with curiosity, "Well? Is it good?"

"It has no flavor."

"No, it's a bit sour."

Their sheepish responses betrayed their disbelief that so much effort had produced flavorless butter.

"Did we fail?" Lilia turned to Victor, her face crestfallen.

Victor smiled and produced a box of cane sugar, instructing the "chefs," "Add in the sugar, mix it well, and try again."

Once the sparkling cane sugar was stirred in, the slightly sour butter immediately underwent a transformation.

"Delicious!"

"So sweet and fragrant!"

The chefs ate with delight, and Nelson and Lilia could no longer resist—they stepped forward to taste as well, and were equally surprised by the sweet, creamy smoothness.

Lilia laughed, "Victor, this butter is wonderful!"

"My lord! We shouldn't sell this butter to those heartless trade caravans. Let's sell it at the Goat Inn—it'll definitely be profitable!" Nelson said excitedly.

But Victor shook his head. "We won't be selling butter. In fact, we’ll spread the method for making it."

When nobles ate bread, they would spread honey on it or add dried fruit to enhance the flavor. However, honey was wild, expensive, and in short supply. Victor had the idea of using butter mixed with cane sugar as a substitute for honey. But with the traditional method, the yield was low, and it was hard to preserve, making it unfit for commercial production. Victor decided to openly share the butter-making method to help promote cane sugar instead.

Nelson trusted Victor’s judgement and asked directly, "Then, my lord, what do you plan to do?"

Victor glanced at the cooks and said with a smile, "Let our chefs go make bread at the Goat Inn."

* * *

A carriage pulled up before a courtyard in the vassal district of Blackcastle Town. Alighting from it was a well-dressed, middle-aged man named Ryan, a vassal of House York.

Ryan’s family had served the House of York for seven generations. By his time, the family had accumulated over nine hundred acres of land, a dairy farm, a carpentry workshop, and a blacksmith's forge.

Ryan had three sons and two daughters. His eldest son, as heir, had taken over Ryan’s duties, joining the Fang Legion as a soldier. With a few years’ effort and the benefit of Ryan’s connections, the boy had already become a squad leader. Ryan’s second son, through favors, had secured a post under the town’s garrison commander. In a few years, perhaps, he would be granted land by the Yorks and become a vassal himself—though that would also depend on Ryan’s careful maneuvering. His eldest daughter had married another vassal's eldest son.

Beyond this, several of Ryan’s relatives were also vassals of House York, making his family quite influential among their peers. But Ryan was not content.

He had once tried to have his second son and eldest daughter serve as page and maid to the lord, but their looks were too plain and they weren’t chosen. When his old neighbor Rum’s second daughter was selected instead, Ryan was consumed with envy at Rum’s smug satisfaction.

Now, House York’s domain had more than doubled in size, and all the vassals were vying for more land and higher status.

In peaceful times, advancing the family's position through military merit was slow. Having one’s children serve the lords as pages or maids was a shortcut, but competition was fierce.

So Ryan took a young and beautiful mistress and bought her a house in Blackcastle Town, hoping to father some attractive illegitimate children who might serve as pages or maids.

The woman had indeed borne him a son and a daughter; today, Ryan had come to visit them.

As he stepped down from the carriage, the old butler, Gobi, came up to greet him.

"Good day, sir!"

Ryan gave a slight nod and proceeded into the courtyard. As a man of status, he carried himself with authority, especially since old Gobi depended on him for a living.

"Sir, you’re here!" A beautiful woman greeted Ryan with a bright smile—his mistress, Busa. She was around thirty, dressed in a finely made linen gown, her waist cinched with a lizard-skin belt that accentuated her slender waist and full hips, making her generous bosom appear even more prominent. The snowy skin at her neckline made Ryan’s heart race.

Though Ryan was already fifty-four, years of hard exercise kept him strong and fit. Seeing his charming mistress made him feel young again.

Ryan drew Busa close, grinning, "Busa, you look especially beautiful today."

"Oh? Was I not pretty before?"

Busa was quite pleased with his admiring gaze. This wealthy, powerful man was older, but he could give her a comfortable life—she intended to hold on to him tightly.

"You were always beautiful," Ryan flattered, all traces of dignity gone.

He tightened his arm around her, ready to enjoy her company, when two childish voices rang out.

"Give it back! That’s my candy!"

"No, come and get it!"

Two children came running, the seven-year-old son in front, chased by the five-year-old daughter.

The little girl, seeing her father, ran to him in tears, clinging to his sleeve and shaking it.

"Daddy! Brother took my candy—help me get it back!"

Ryan gathered his precious daughter into his arms, soothing her gently, "Nana, don’t cry. Daddy will get it back for you."

"Andie, come here! What did you take from your sister?" Ryan demanded sternly.

Timidly, Andie handed over the sugar cube, knowing his father always favored his little sister.

Ryan did indeed cherish his daughter—she was the spitting image of Busa, a true beauty in the making. With Busa’s looks, she could easily have served as a lord’s maid, if only the position weren’t limited to vassals’ daughters. Ryan intended to wait until his daughter was fifteen or sixteen to send her to serve the noble lord, hoping she might catch the eye of that distinguished knight, perhaps even bear his child. If she failed to become a personal maid, Ryan would not marry Nana off, but would have that noble child born in his own household—a change that could transform their family’s fortunes. By comparison, the son was of lesser importance.

"What’s this?" Ryan asked, examining the purple cube.

"Sir, that’s a sugar cube—a new treat in town," old Gobi replied respectfully.

"Daddy, daddy, give it to me! I want to eat it!"

Nana reached out her delicate hand, but Ryan didn’t hand it over.

"This sort of thing shouldn’t just be given to children. What if something goes wrong?" Ryan said sternly.

"It’s fine, I had others try it first—there’s nothing wrong, and lots of people in town eat these sugar cubes," Busa replied with a laugh.

Ryan inspected it, sniffed it, then licked it—at once, he tasted the sweetness and couldn’t help but pop the whole thing in his mouth, where it melted instantly, leaving a sweet aftertaste.

"Does this have honey in it? Busa, how could you buy something so expensive for the children?"

Ryan was both surprised and reproachful. Honey cost ten gold sol per pound—something even a vassal like him could hardly afford, and certainly not as a child’s treat. That would only arouse envy.

"Do you really think I’m that reckless?" Busa pinched his ear playfully. "These are sugar cubes made from coarse sugar, only forty-five copper sol a pound—made from purple cane!"

"That cheap?" Ryan was stunned by the price.

"My sugar cube!" wailed Nana, realizing her father had eaten the last one.

Ryan, heart aching, said to Busa, "Give Nana another cube."

"There are no more—that was the last. Why did you have to eat it?" Busa soothed the sobbing girl, half-scolding Ryan.

Ryan flushed with embarrassment, then turned angrily to the butler, "Why are you just standing there? Go buy more! And buy plenty—I want some to take home!"

"Sir, all the coarse sugar in town has already sold out. According to John, who sells it, the next batch won’t arrive for ten days!"

This unfortunate news only made Nana cry harder.

* * *

"I can’t imagine how Archil could be so incompetent! Cane sugar, coarse sugar—such crucial information, and none of it reported!"

The Earl of York paced back and forth, thoroughly agitated.

Sylvia watched her husband’s anxious figure and sighed quietly. Only when it came to money did he ever act like a real man in her presence.

"Is it so strange? Archil already told us Victor sealed off the upper camp and was experimenting with purple cane, but Archil didn’t know it was sugar," Sylvia replied coolly.

"It’s not strange at all! In just ten days, three thousand pounds of coarse sugar sold out. All of it should have been covered in the monopoly agreement, but now there’s trouble!" the earl said darkly.

"You’re worried Sophia will get involved in the coarse sugar and cane sugar business?" Sylvia arched her fine brows.

"I’m worried Sophia will lure Victor back. That boy is like a hen that lays golden eggs. You insisted on making him our vassal—at first I foolishly objected, but now I see your wisdom," the earl said with a wry smile.

Ever since reading Victor’s monopoly agreement, the earl had supported it wholeheartedly. A vassal only owed fifty percent of their goods to their lord, but the monopoly called for one hundred percent of purple cane wine—a much better deal for the Yorks.

"There’s no need to worry. Sophia and I have an agreement. In fact, she’s already given up on young Victor," Sylvia replied with a laugh.

"In the eyes of a mercantile noble, only profit matters—agreements mean nothing! We’d find it hard to refuse Sophia anyway, since she supplies us with cheap grain and iron."

When House York moved to the Centaur Hills, they lost hundreds of thousands of acres of farmland, various mines, and all their infrastructure. All of it had to be rebuilt from scratch, and until then, they relied on trade support.

"How crude! Enbis, you may understand commerce, but you underestimate politics. Baron Vilpan will take care of this for us."