Three days after the duel that shook the Eastern territories, the Alfordshire residence was abuzz with unease. Noble guests came in an endless stream; some offered congratulations, others... merely wanted to assess the new threat.
Arven drank warm black tea while reading a brief report from Diablo.
> "Irrigation experiment with wooden pipes accelerated wheat growth by 7%." "Food prices are still rising."
Arven sighed. "It's not enough."
The drawing-room door opened.
A servant bowed deeply.
"Young Master, a guest from Marquis Lamerelle has arrived."
Arven straightened up.
"Marquis Lamerelle? Isn't that Lord Feran's—"
The servant swallowed. "His daughter... wishes to speak with you directly."
Arven and Diablo exchanged a look.
"Bring her to the meeting room."
**The Tea Heiress of the East**
In the meeting room sat a girl of about fifteen or sixteen. Long silver hair was tied with a green ribbon. Her eyes, the color of emeralds, were sharp yet gentle. She wore a noble's dress with neatly embroidered tea leaf motifs.
When Arven entered, the girl rose and gave a slight curtsy.
"I am Iris Lamerelle, the official heir to the title of Marquis of the Eastern tea region."
The atmosphere grew still.
Arven sat down slowly. "I am Arven Alfordshire. Son of the Baron."
Iris placed a document on the table.
"My father... was Lord Feran, the man you killed."
Arven remained silent, offering no denial.
"But," Iris continued, "I did not come for revenge. I came for... political accountability."
Diablo tensed, ready.
Iris folded her hands. "My father's death has made many nobles smell blood. My territory needs political protection. They are demanding I marry a powerful noble... immediately."
Her gaze fixed on Arven.
"So I demand this—become my fiancé."
Arven froze. "...What?"
The room fell utterly silent.
**The Rejection**
Arven took a breath.
"You are the heir to a Marquis. I am a minor Baron whose lands are nearly destitute. If I accept you, I will become a massive target. And I am not ready for that game."
Iris bit her lip, but her eyes remained calm.
"Then... let us form an alliance. A light trade and military alliance. I need an ally."
Arven gave a faint nod.
"That, I can do."
A slight smile touched Iris's lips, a hint of relief showing.
**The Tea Problem**
Iris handed over a folder containing production tables and graphs.
"My territory produces the finest tea in the East. But we are losing sales in the capital. The market has been monopolized by Lord Malson of the West, under the Western Duke's faction."
"He undercuts our prices, bribes merchants, and tarnishes the reputation of Eastern tea."
Arven closed his eyes.
*The Western Duke—the most vicious trading region.*
He opened his eyes, his voice firm.
"We will not win a price war. We will win on quality."
Iris was taken aback. "Quality?"
Arven nodded.
**The Finest Leaves**
He sketched a diagram on paper.
"The most tender tea buds hold the best aroma and flavor. We will sort the leaves, using only the topmost ones. This increases quality by 40%."
Iris leaned in to look.
"But the harvesting cost is high..."
Arven continued:
"We will collect only the buds that bloom in the morning, give them a light roast to lock in the aroma, build a brand with charisma, and sell it at a premium price, not a cheap one."
Diablo let out a low whistle.
"Brilliant, Master."
**The "Radiant East" Caravan**
Arven stood and unrolled the small, yet accurate, map he had summoned earlier.
"We will create a trade caravan called the 'Radiant East.'"
Iris tilted her head. "A caravan?"
"A mobile merchant fleet. We will travel through villages, small towns, outer markets, even to the borders. We control the distribution ourselves."
He pointed to Diablo.
"You will be the caravan master. I need eyes and ears on the ground."
Diablo smiled, a cold, eager expression on his face.
"It would be an honor, Master."
**Iris's Reaction**
Iris looked at Arven with wide eyes.
"This... is innovation. No noble in the East thinks this far ahead."
Arven picked up a new cup of tea made from the experimental morning buds.
"I just... hate to see people go hungry."
Iris took a sip. A soft aroma came first, followed by a slow, natural sweetness.
Her eyes widened.
"This... is incredible. It tastes like the morning dew!"
Arven nodded.
"This will be our flagship product."
**A New Political Bond**
Iris untied the green ribbon from her hair and placed it on the table.
"This is a symbol of the trust of Marquis Lamerelle. If you betray me, I will take it back."
Arven picked up the ribbon and stored it away.
"I will guard it."
Iris smiled.
"The engagement... I will postpone. But once you become a high noble... I will collect."
Arven coughed lightly. "W-Wait a moment—"
Diablo stifled a laugh.
**The Clouds of Trade War**
Diablo opened the window. In the distance, smoke plumed from the Western border—Lord Malson's caravan was expanding its market.
"What is the next plan, Master?"
Arven closed his eyes, then gave a thin smile.
"We will improve the tea fields, form a harvesting network, train merchants, and start a taste campaign. Children will know our tea... not theirs."
"I will not let the Western Duke dominate this market."
Iris nodded, her eyes shining.
"Starting today... the Radiant East ignites."
**Chapter Close**
Arven gazed at the tea fields swaying in the distance.
Politics. Trade. Alliances.
Small steps toward great influence.
This was only the beginning.
**TO BE CONTINUED...**