As the first rays of the sun bathed the grand buildings of Ancorna in golden light, the imperial capital slowly awakened to the start of a new day. The morning air was crisp, carrying the distant chime of temple bells and the murmurs of merchants setting up their stalls.
Yet, even at this early hour, the gates of the Imperial Pace saw movement. A procession of carriages, accompanied by an entourage of knights and mages, made its way through the massive iron-wrought gates. Their destination: the Estra Kingdom.
Leading them was none other than Eugene. Cd in his traveling armor, his sharp eyes scanned the road ahead with the same determination that had made him a force to be reckoned with. His mission was clear, defend the Morgen Dukedom from the impending invasion of the Conley Empire, in exchange for a meeting with the Saintess as per his deal.
From the balcony of the West Wing, Ravenna watched the departing procession with an unreadable expression. The cool morning breeze pyed with her long, dark locks as she leaned against the ornate railing, her eyes following Eugene and the knights of William’s order until they disappeared beyond the pace gates.
“Good,” she murmured under her breath. “Now I can focus on my other pns.”
With a decisive turn, she stepped back into her chambers, ringing the silver bell on her vanity. Within moments, her maids entered, bowing deeply before setting to work.
It took hours of careful preparation—vender-scented baths, yers of silk garments, meticulously arranged hair, and the perfect accessories—but when Ravenna finally stepped out of her room, she was the very picture of noble elegance.
Seated inside her private carriage, she adjusted the folds of her deep indigo dress, tapping her fingers lightly against the polished wood of the interior. The vehicle rocked gently as it traversed the cobbled streets of the capital, heading towards its destination—the Merchant District.
“Re-establishing Ravenna’s faction is just as much of a priority as re-entering the succession race,” Ravenna mused aloud, her voice quiet in the privacy of the carriage. “And if my pn is to succeed, I’ll need the right allies… and the right funding.”
As her entourage reached the heart of the Merchant District, the cmor of bustling trade greeted them. The scent of freshly baked bread and exotic spices lingered in the air, blending with the metallic tang of coin and ink-stained parchment. This was the financial core of the empire, where wealth flowed like a river and power was measured not only by titles but by the weight of one’s purse.
The carriage slowed to a halt before an imposing stone building, The Imperial Merchant Association Headquarters.
Ravenna stepped out, her heeled boots clicking softly against the pavement as she took in the sight before her. The headquarters was already alive with activity; merchants, clerks, and trade officials bustled in and out, their conversations thick with deals, profits, and market trends.
“Busy even at this hour,” Ravenna muttered, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Just as expected.”
Fnked by Vice Captain John and a cadre of knights, Ravenna strode into the grand halls of the Imperial Merchant Association with unwavering confidence. The moment she stepped inside, the murmur of merchants and clerks came to a hushed halt.
The staff, though polite, moved quickly to clear the growing crowd that had formed, ensuring a smooth path for the imperial princess. Among them, a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and a well-maintained navy-blue tunic stepped forward, bowing deeply. His expression held the perfect bance of deference and practiced cordiality.
“It is an honor to meet Your Highness,” he said, straightening with a warm, professional smile. “I am Nichos Gabeson, second nephew of Marquess Ryan Gabeson.”
Ravenna barely spared him a gnce. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said dismissively, her voice dripping with impatience. “Summon your director, or whoever here actually has the authority to make decisions. I don’t have time to waste on some second son of an obscure noble family.”
Nichos’s smile did not falter, though a flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. He had heard plenty about the unruly princess—her sharp tongue, her infamous temper, and her complete disregard for noble decorum. Seeing it in person only solidified the rumors. He wasn’t about to get entangled in whatever imperial problem she had come to dump onto the Association.
“Of course, Your Highness. Please follow me,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward a hallway leading to the high-ranking manager’s offices.
The journey was brief, and soon Ravenna was seated comfortably in a luxurious room, its walls lined with shelves of neatly stacked financial ledgers. A rge, polished oak desk stood at the center, behind which sat an elderly yet remarkably fit man. He had steel-gray hair and the kind of sharp gaze that had long since learned to read men and markets alike.
The man stood and bowed with practiced formality. “This subject greets the esteemed princess. I am Earl Taylor Hessman.”
Ravenna studied him with mild interest. “Hessman... That would be the noble family from the northern mountains, correct?”
“The very same, Your Highness,” Earl Hessman replied smoothly. “I serve as a high-ranking manager here at the Imperial Merchant Association. At present, I hold the highest authority in this building, as all directors have been summoned by His Majesty for budget discussions regarding the imperial wedding.”
Ravenna leaned back, tapping her fingers against the armrest. “So you have the power to negotiate deals? If not, I’ll have to return another day. I have no intention of pying peekaboo with financial clerks.”
Earl Hessman allowed himself a small, knowing smile. “Rest assured, Your Highness, I have full authorization. Director Duke Ryan Gabeson entrusted me with his personal seal and the authority to approve deals of significant importance.”
Ravenna weighed his words carefully. She didn’t have time to waste, but she also couldn’t risk her pns leaking prematurely. Still, even if the director were present and refused her deal, she had already prepared for that scenario. The uniqueness of her proposition ensured that secrecy wouldn’t be a concern.
“Very well.” She exhaled slightly, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the polished desk. Her eyes locked onto Earl Hessman’s with a gleam of ambition.
“Earl Hessman, tell me… Do you know what a tax haven is?”
Hessman’s brows lifted slightly in intrigue as Ravenna continued “I intend to create one.”
Read 12+ by becoming a Patron : 92. Tax Haven