Tiberius took a deep breath. The second his hand sank into the pile of gold coins, a solid, satisfying weight finally settled in his chest. He couldn't help the real, contented smile that spread across his face.
"No matter what… there's still a lot of gold here. This is a fucking fortune!"
Vito's face immediately twisted into that barely-contained grin—like he'd just heard the world's dumbest joke.
"What's so funny, Vito?" Tiberius asked. "These are real gold coins. Lyseni can't tax these, right?"
Vito looked at the boy's naive expression and finally lost it. "Pfft—!" He burst out laughing, the sound dripping with schadenfreude and that classic "kid, you've still got so much to learn" vibe.
He strolled over to one of the open chests, reached in, and scooped up a handful of Lys's signature oval gold coins. He weighed them in his palm, letting them clink together with a crisp metallic ring.
"Kid," he said in a low, spooky tone like he was telling a ghost story, "looks like I need to tell you another horror tale. A story about gold coins… Listen carefully! Otherwise one day you'll bleed for years, finally fill a bag with gold, head to the Perfumed Garden planning to deflower twelve girls in one night… and get thrown out like a stray dog after the third one because your coins are garbage!"
"Come here, Lightning Kid. Let me enlighten you with a few beautiful truths."
He held up one oval Lysene gold coin. "First, you think this stuff is valuable? Sure, it's gold—no argument there. But pay attention! Compared to the Westerosi gold dragons, these are thinner and feel lighter in the hand! Thickness—feel it? Thinner. The real killer is the gold content!" He ran his rough finger over the naked woman stamped on the coin, then pulled out a Westerosi dragon for comparison, letting Tiberius weigh both.
"Westeros might look poorer than the Free Cities, but their gold dragons hold at least eighty percent pure gold. I hear the Lannisters and King Jaehaerys's dragons hit ninety percent. But these official Lysene coins…" He snorted.
"Official standard is seventy-five percent. In reality? Heh. If a mint actually gives you seventy-five percent pure, it's because the Lord of Light himself took pity on you!"
Then he pointed to another pile of slightly darker coins. "Second, kid, look at these three thousand five hundred from House Haen. Listen to the sound!" He held one up to the light. "See the color? Reddish. Feels lighter too. I'd bet my left nut the purity is barely sixty percent. Copper, lead, tin… who knows what else they mixed in?"
"And look here," Vito showed him. He scraped a fingernail along the edge of a coin. Some weren't even round—tiny notches missing. Others had multiple small holes punched through them.
"Clipped edges! Punched holes! Oldest dirty tricks in the book!"
Clipping meant secretly snipping tiny bits of gold from the edges with shears, shaving away value.
Punching holes was both a way to check for copper-core fakes and another way to skim metal.
"And not just that—see these gray, rough edges?" Tiberius ran his finger along one and felt how jagged it was.
"Filed down," Vito said with a cold laugh, tossing the coin back into the chest with a clink. "They use files and tiny shears to scrape gold dust from the edges. Bit by bit it adds up. These coins have passed through who knows how many hands, each one taking their cut. House Haen's 'generosity' is truly something else!"
"So the value of Haen's gold? Another discount right there!"
Not done yet, Vito picked up a noticeably smaller coin and waved it in front of Tiberius. "Third, look closely, kid! Most of Haen's payment is these tiny coins, not the standard large oval Lysene ones! That's another twenty percent discount! Sure, the pile looks huge, but in your head you need to adjust the numbers down again!"
"Also, let me tell you something else. Privately minted coins are worth even less. Unfortunately, House Haen's are clearly 'Haen Minted.'" He tapped the coin. "Not official Lys government currency. The brothers won't say anything to your face, but they'll grumble in their hearts, and the real value drops again."
"Finally, see these?" He shook a coin that was visibly misshapen. "A lot of them are half-cast—poorly struck. Full of bubbles, uneven edges, bigger than they should be but lighter. Hollow shells!"
"Your uncle Jules got absolutely screwed by these once!" Vito said, visibly angry now. "That employer paid most of the contract in this low-quality, half-cast garbage. We were young and stupid back then, didn't inspect carefully. Nearly destroyed the 'Honorable' reputation he was building. To make up the death benefits and wages we owed the men, a few of us old hands had to fight as gladiators for a whole month. Old Tom nearly left his guts on the arena sand! All because of those shitty coins!"
"So at this point—another big discount! A really big one!"
Finally, Vito walked over to the large gilded redwood chests Lysandro had given them and patted one. "Lysandro's coins are decent quality. Proper weight, not half-cast, not tiny coins, and they meet the official seventy-five percent standard… but!" He picked one up and pointed to the edge.
"Clipped and holed all the same!" Vito rubbed his chin. "I'd bet the clerks and treasury officials in the Rogare estate did the shaving themselves!"
He tossed the coin back with a crisp clink and shrugged helplessly. "We all know it, but we have to pinch our noses and accept it. What are we gonna do—go complain to Lord Lysandro? 'My lord, your people are skimming the gold. Can we get perfect full-weight coins instead?' Too unrealistic!"
Vito dropped the coin back into the chest, spread his hands in that classic "this is life" gesture, and gave Tiberius a flat look. "So kid, don't get blinded by all this golden shine. It looks like a mountain that'll last you a lifetime. But once you factor in all the losses, debasement, and skimming, our 'fortune' gets a very big haircut."
"Uh… so what happened to the bastard who paid with bad coin?" Tiberius asked suddenly.
"Oh, that piece of shit?" Vito's face instantly darkened with killing intent. A cruel, satisfied smile split his lips, showing teeth stained yellow from wine and smoke.
"We killed his entire family. Cut his head off and used it as a piss pot. His five-year-old son got a spear shoved up his ass until it came out his mouth. Every male in the family—none were spared. We slaughtered the lot!"
"As for the women… ha! After the brothers had their fun, Captain Jules sold every last one into the cheapest, filthiest brothel in Lys to pay off the debt. We were deep in the hole back then, and every man was burning with rage. Old Tom had the time of his life—he was still on a stretcher, but the captain made that bastard employer watch while Tom took the man's eldest daughter (who was supposed to marry soon) and his freshly adult second daughter. Took their virginities right there. First blood. That was compensation for Tom nearly dying in the fighting pit to save the captain's honor."
"After all, your uncle is 'the Honorable.' When he makes a contract, he keeps it. The agreement clearly stated that if the employer broke the deal, the price would be 'total ruin and the end of his bloodline.' We bled for that contract. You try to pay us with garbage? You really think we're idiots? If we say we'll wipe out your entire family, we wipe out your entire family. Miss even one, and it doesn't count as keeping your word!"
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