"With this deed, it's official," Helena claimed, pouring molten wax on the parchment.
Using her signet ring, she ennobled him with the royal seal of approval.
"You are now Count Konrad Halstadt, long may you reign." That was all the fanfare he've got—and a pat on the back from Vargas. A little underwhelming, but he didn't care.
A noble. He became a count, and that title didn't even do justice to what he had gained.
Not like he had the complete list, but one thing was obvious.
His lands reached far beyond Halaima. To the east, a mountain pass and vast ranges denoted the end of his realm and the kingdom he now swore to defend.
To the west, a large river served as the natural border, also dividing Kasserlane in half.
Beyond that were the king's own lands and the heart of the country.
The entire north-eastern corner now belonged to Konrad.
Yes, that included Haiten, too, the tribal lands, forests, mountains, and small rivers.
Fifteen hundred acres of land under his personal domain.
Vassals, the right to raise levies and taxes, to distribute coins, and—
"Forgive me for my unpreparedness; you'll get the full list in due time," the princess promised.
Her dark eyes didn't even flick to the coins that Eyna was counting the entire time.
"Don't apologize, Your Highness, you've done great things for me," Konrad said, bowing.
She helped him fill in more of his map in one day than he had done in a week.
And now that he had a list of vassal families, he could also interrogate them further.
"Ah, about that," Helena held up a finger. "The duchy still belongs to the king, and so do the vassals, but this is a mere formality. Once I've gotten his approval, you get the higher title, too."
Okay, yes, there were caveats, but still.
It felt surreal. His first step towards the control he craved—unless he counted magic, too.
When would he find the time now to learn new things? He was a lord, even if of a ruined city and a fief so large he didn't even know what to do with it.
But, well, it was his right to decide at least.
Barons usually ruled over small villages or land, while a count oversaw an entire county. The document Konrad had signed gave him so much more.
Other than in name, he gained one of the seven duchies of Kasserlane.
The king held two—plus this one—in the center and to the north of his.
Gabrielle's father, the Duke of Aset, held another to the south.
Had Konrad considered the Schwertburgs his allies, that already meant half the kingdom. The rest—they were so far, he didn't have to bother with them for now. Nor with the Church.
He had the seeds of a stable realm, even if he was about to give away all his coins at once.
"Seven hundred silver florins, and thirty coins of adamantite, worth ten florins each."
Eyna spread the money she had finished counting on top of the map.
All his hard-earned money. Okay, well, the ransoming was more of Lily's business, but he was sweating blood to make the adamantite. Helena's eyes widened, looking at them.
"You weren't joking. Adamantite coins?!" she asked, picking one up. "What is this on them?"
"A kitsune," Eyna offered before Konrad could. "A seven-tailed fox."
"Huh? Why?" the princess mumbled, turning it around.
"Ah, it was a split-second decision," Konrad admitted. "I heard my father used foxes as his symbol, and I added my own flair to it. This is so the merchants know it's genuine."
"Hold your horses, Konrad Halstadt," Helena raised her voice, staring him down.
Count or not—when she used his full name, he could only gulp.
"You used these to pay traders?"
Whoops. He had no right to do that until now.
"No, of course not," he lied, his brain already working on the challenge. "There are no coins, My Lady. These are valuable, rare materials I traded with the peddlers, measured and confirmed—"
"I swear to the saints," the princess pinched the saddle of her nose. "Never do that again."
Fair, but it confused Konrad.
"I had to pay them somehow, and these were very popular—"
"I bet they were, kid," Helena hollered, but her voice sounded painful. "This is adamantite. They are not valuable as silver or gold—they are invaluable for magic and weaponry."
Oh. Now he understood, but the princess explained—or rather, scolded him—anyway.
"Those peddlers of yours—if they took these out of the country, that's worse than treason."
"I, uh—made them promise they'd only circulate them within Kasserlane." Another lie.
Not even that was enough.
"Nope, we can't have anyone get their hands on these, either," Helena stated. "You'd need special permission to give these to anyone but the king himself. How much did you give away?"
That he happened to know, given he had to craft each coin with his magic on that fateful night.
"About fifteen in total," he counted on his fingers. "Some were smaller, though."
The princess let out a long breath, and no longer looked like she wanted to kill him.
"All right, that's well within reason," she said, then grabbed his shoulders. "You can make your own money now, but for the love of all that's holy—use your silver mine for that. Not this."
"M-my what?" Konrad asked, trying to back away, but she wouldn't let him.
"Your silver mine," Helena repeated, nodding at the map underneath the coins. "That, there."
His eyes followed, noticing a new marking they've put deep inside tribal territories.
"You have two salt mines and a silver one, kid. Both are valuable commodities. But selling them won't hurt our kingdom as much as giving adamantite to potential enemies."
"Wait, I only knew of this one salt mine, and it has a goblin infestation problem," Konrad said.
He broke free, taking a better look at his map, wiping the coins out of the way.
The silver mine—did the Inquisitor harass the tribes to get to it? Their council or his idiotic twin never even mentioned it. His mind was racing, exploring opportunities.
"I could hire some adventurers to clear the mines, but I have no manpower to work them—"
"Didn't you say you ransomed mercenaries to get this money?" Helena flicked at one of the more mundane silver coins. "You should've sent them to those mines instead, and they'd—"
"No, I would never," Konrad cut her off, his voice firm.
The princess raised an eyebrow, taking a step back as if he startled her.
He might've overdone it, so he gave a proper explanation.
"I fought off the Church to stop their tyranny. If I sent my beaten foes into the mines, that'd make me the same as them. Sorry, princess, but I'm no fan of slavery."
The silence stretched thin.
Helena's eyes remained wide as she looked at him, but soon her smile widened, too.
"You sound like my brother," she smirked. "That royal fool. He'd like you."
Right. Konrad remembered the king was working on a bill to abolish slavery altogether.
"Still, you say such noble things when you keep slaves as well," Helena pointed out. It was his turn to act surprised, but she nodded at Eyna. "Poor girl keeps calling you Master."
"Ah," Konrad sighed. "And I can only wish she'd stopped doing that."
Eyna blushed—or no, pouted? Her expression was unreadable. She said nothing, but something has changed. He'd have to deal with that soon, and as a noble master, no less.