The baron's eyes lit up, and his sobbing stopped. He moved to stand, but Knight Marlleo placed a hand on his shoulder and kept him from doing so.
The baron looked up at Marlleo, confused, then at Licerio, who wore a broad smile. He looked away quickly, lowered his head, and settled back on his knees.
His back curved as far as it would go, dropping his posture to its limit, and his body trembled slightly. Once he had steadied himself, he began to speak without daring to lift his head.
"T-Ten years ago—no, thirteen years, yes, yes, I think, yes…" The baron continued wandering over the date until Marlleo gave him a light kick in the side, and he found his way back to the main point. He wiped the sweat from his brow nervously and went on. "Yes, yes, forgive me, forgive me. I'll continue. I was still a commoner in this territory. These lands had never been developed until your father acquired them, and as new settlers, we used to explore the surrounding area looking for resources. I found many things, yes, all excellent gold, gold; everything was new. The river was clear, and the trees—"
"Lord Grojo, please don't ramble," Licerio cut in. "Let's finish this as quickly as we can."
The baron shut his mouth and glanced sideways at Licerio. He looked away quickly after seeing that the smile was gone—Licerio was watching him steadily now, brow slightly drawn.
"Yes, young lord, forgive me, please. I'll continue." He took a deep breath and swallowed. "On one of those outings, I went deep into some hills and woods I had started exploring—I always found good things there. I was looking for interesting objects when the ground gave way beneath me. I fell into enormous ruins, dark and foul-smelling. Furthermore, I could only take one thing out with me; who would have thought that taking one would lead to all of this? It was a remarkable object, golden with so mu—" The more he spoke about the object, the faster his words came and the more his breathing quickened. He raised his head and looked at Licerio, pupils wide, sweat sliding down his face.
"Lord Grojo, I don't care about the object you took. Tell me—did something happen when you picked it up?"
"Ah, yes, forgive me, please," he begged, lowering his head until his forehead nearly touched the floor. "When I took it, it carried me out of the ruins by magic, and I was never able to find the hole I had fallen through again."
"Good. Let's keep this brief—no sense wasting each other's time on side matters, is there, Lord Grojo? We're both busy men. Did you tell anyone about the ruins? And what did you do with the object you took?" said Licerio, his tone somewhat softer.
Lord Grojo slowly straightened his back, which was soaked through with sweat, his gaze shifting nervously. He wiped his hands dry on his trousers.
"I didn't tell anyone… No, wait—yes, I did, young Master Poret. No one else knows. As for the object, I kept it with me always, since from that day on my luck seemed to improve—until, during one of my visits to the Marquisate of Chrysalis, a gentleman recognized the object I was carrying and offered to buy it. In exchange for the object, they gave me a barony and some funds. I had never been so fortunate." He raised his head suddenly, looking straight at Licerio, his pupils trembling, arms lifting. "If one object was worth that much, getting all of them would make me rich. I want to be a count—no, a marquis. All of it was mine. Just think about it…" he said, euphoric, breathing heavily, losing himself in his dreams.
Licerio narrowed his eyes. The sudden shift in the baron's manner toward the end of his story had caught him off guard; the man looked as though he might come apart entirely if no one brought him back down.
"López, bring a map of our territory and give it to the baron—have him mark the exact location. Also a parchment, so he can write down everything important about the place and describe it."
In the five minutes López was gone, Licerio let the baron settle his emotions and come back to himself. When López returned, he handed the baron the map, the parchment, ink, and a quill.
The baron turned the map over a couple of times before finding the location and marked it with a large circle, uncertain of the exact point. Then he took the parchment and the quill, dipped it, and forgot to wipe off the excess ink, spattering the floor and part of the parchment with large blots. His hand began shaking uncontrollably, scattering more ink across the page.
"Stop," Licerio sighed. "What on earth are you doing?" he asked, irritated. "It looks like the first time you've ever held a quill."
The baron's ears and face turned scarlet, and he shot Licerio a quick sideways glance, visibly embarrassed. Licerio opened his mouth without knowing what to say. How was it possible that a baron could not write? It did not take him long to think of a solution, and he turned to Marlleo.
"Marlleo, bring my father's secretary and have him write it down."
A short while later, Marlleo returned with an older man—a few gray hairs in his hair and beard, a bearing that sat somewhere between dignified and rough, and old scars on his hands.
When he entered, he bowed respectfully to Licerio, took the parchment and quill from in front of the baron, and prepared to write.
About ten minutes later, the secretary finished and handed the parchment to Licerio before taking his leave.
"I have to say, your luck is remarkable, Baron. Neither the king nor the marquis nor anyone else had discovered the place—yet your luck led you straight to it. It seems mine is even better," he mocked loudly.
"Thank you, thank you. That's everything now, isn't it—you'll keep your word, won't you?"
"Of course. But there is one problem," he sighed. "I don't think the Bareos and the Grojos can coexist in these lands. Since you were a noble yourself once, I'll help you resolve that: I'll buy your properties from you, and you'll give me a small discount of—" Licerio rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling, thinking, "—thirty percent. It seems like the only solution, don't you think, Lord Grojo?" he said, putting a particular weight on the word "only".
Lord Grojo's teeth began to knock together, his breathing hitching as he pressed one hand to his chest. He gripped his chest hard. He wanted to refuse, to negotiate if he could, but he knew he could not. His grip on his chest slowly loosened.
Knight López stepped up behind Lord Grojo, who was still on the floor, and placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his daze.
"Young master, your offer is far too generous for Lord Grojo. Look at him—look how happy he is; he can't even speak from the excitement. Look at him clutching his chest—he must be afraid his heart will leap out from the joy."
Lord Grojo pulled the hand from his chest and reached up to remove López's hand from his shoulder, furious. As he reached for it, López smiled and squeezed his shoulder with force. Lord Grojo yelped in pain, his body twisting as he tried to pull free.
"López, enough," Licerio said a few seconds later.
López apologized to Licerio for the presumption and stepped back behind him. Lord Grojo recovered and shot a venomous look at López. López answered it with a smile.
It was the only thing he could do—accept the outrageous offer from the young man before him and go and spend his wealth somewhere else.
"Thank you, young lord, thank you. I promise to leave as soon as possible; I will never show my face before you again, I swear it."
"You may go, but I'd like you to remain as my guest until the transfer of territory and the purchase of your properties has been completed."
"Of course, yes, yes, young lord. Thank you for letting me stay in your home. Thank you."
Lord Grojo left the room accompanied by some servants Licerio had just called to show him to his room, and he assigned four soldiers to stand guard at his door.
Licerio drummed his fingers on the table with a broad smile on his face.
"Marlleo. López."
"Yes, my lord," both knights said, kneeling on one knee before Licerio.
"Once we've completed everything with Lord Grojo and he's left our territory, I think he may find himself running into bandits on the road." Licerio stopped drumming the table, and his smile faded, replaced by a neutral expression. "Organize a team to protect him, and make sure they aren't seen."
"Yes, my lord. We'll make sure it's all arranged properly."
"You're dismissed."
Licerio went back to drumming the table as he smiled warmly at both knights. They said their goodbyes to Licerio shortly after and left the room.
Licerio leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath, grumbling inwardly: finally, it's all over—dealing with these highborn nobles is far too tedious.