Aron looked up from his desk, his quill pausing mid-stroke as his eyes settled on the man who had begun appearing with greater and greater frequency in his reports.
Ivaylo of Villagus. A merchant, and yet not a simple one, he was more than that, a player who seemed to understand the rules of power better than most nobles Aron had ever dealt with. One of the chief actors was now striding across the stage of the rising semi-industrial complex of the princedom.
Most merchants who petitioned for leases on crown land behaved as cowards, investing with one foot in and one foot out. They dipped their toes in, tested the waters, and pulled out the moment risk rippled the surface. Not Ivaylo. He threw himself in body and purse alike.
Aron's records showed at least 2,500 silverii poured into land purchases alone, triple the acreage of vines that any other house dared maintain.
Aron had approved the requests, of course. It was his duty as the one appointed to oversee such matters.
