Sweet Reincarnation

"Cuckoo, ha, cuckoo, ha..."

"What's the matter, boy? It must be depressing at any time today."

"Because all the newcomers have been taken. I had a chance to spread my hands anew around the corner. It felt good..."

"Well, then, I and the Admiral have spoken. Come on. I'm guessing whoever wants to see the boy is also a suicidal aspiration."

"Terrible!!

"It's true. Even though I'm fucking busy, I can't let you imitate the way a rookie crushes me, and even if I get more jobs, I'll be out of my hands. At least until the rookie grows up. As a squire, I did my normal job. Come on. It's the chief squire's job to stand between a lord and a squire."

"You say something rare and decent."

"I'll always be decent."

Talking nagging, when it comes to what Shiites and Pace are up to, it's confirmation of the previous fiscal year's accounting report.

The checking of the accounting itself is a routine monthly task that Nicolo has worked so hard to put together to see if the actual vault gold fits. Failure to do so does not know what time (when) the amount of money will no longer fit, so two people close to the top of the territory are supposed to check on behalf of the Lords. Or directly by the lord.

This time it was sometimes early in the New Year, and the accounting reports for the previous financial year were to be prepared at the same time.

"One hundred and sixty plough gold coins, twenty-four ratesh gold coins, three hundred pari gold coins fit perfectly, four hundred and sixty-three bob silver coins..."

When it comes to vaults, it's not a big deal. A crate about a turn larger than a tissue box with a divider. Once upon a time, I even knew the pattern on the bottom, but lately it can be the intimate pride of casserole that I no longer see the pattern on the bottom plate.

"You're okay. It's perfect. The numbers are right."

"Well, I'll take care of this, son, so take the report to the general. Yeah. Oh, and this letter is finally here."

"Okay."

Casserole is now talking to the royal use. Now that we're building more national highways, there are a lot of things that we have to arrange, things that we have to report.

The palace sparrows and others are plotting to use this as an opportunity not to devour the rights of the Mortairn family to peak peak perch, or the candidate places on the route stretch to fight each other in darkness, but this is also another negative part of noble politics that doesn't go away.

rights of the Mortairn family, there are also several things that

When demand and supply are unbalanced, it is the role of politicians to adjust, but gains and interests arise there.

If you don't get what you want, you have a strong selling side, which creates rights like the right to buy, for example. Tea rights, etc. in the territory of Ratesh are similar rights. To whom and to what extent. The damage is changed by the discretion of the person who decides. You can't sell to all the people you want, so you have to choose who you want to sell, and there are people out there who benefit and who don't, depending on the criteria you choose.

The same story applies to armor candy and throat candy sprinkled by Pais after a new tea tasting. For the extremely limited supply, there are many people who want it. There were quite a few people who wanted me to sell it to them as a priority.

I also want my breathtaking chamber of commerce to carry out the construction supplies.

When it comes to the distribution of rights, it sounds like a muddy story of politics, but the thing about interest coordination is the real deal of politics. One of the cards you offer is the right of this hand in order to benefit the Mortairn family more. Where and how to give and what to get.

The power of coordination of interests is the very power of nobility as a politician.

To the reception room, Pais, who came to the report one-handed, knocks first. I knew the customer was coming, so I waited for a response from inside.

"Excuse me."

Inside is a coantro of escorts with casseroles. It is the diplomat sitting across the street, plus the escort standing behind the diplomat.

"This is Uncle Milo, we're out of time. I wonder which is coming, my lord?"

"Lord Pastry is looking great, too. Ever since I met you at the Prince's ball?"

"Am I interrupting an important conversation?"

"No, no, I'm done talking about important things with Sir Mortairn. I was just talking to the public now."

Count Millow.

Among the court nobles, the family responsible for foreign affairs. There is also the height of the title, a figure among the foreign affairs valves that is said to be Heavy Town.

Coffee brown hair is cut together nicely, combed so carefully that even the helmet appears to be worn, and perfumed and perfectly stiffened. His height is small but tight, and at first glance he looks soft but only his eyes have a glimpse of sharpness.

He looks mild and gentle when he's laughing at Nicole, but he's thirty-four years old with a reputation for children crying out when he's angry.

It's younger than casserole, but sometimes it's almost the same age and the conversation seemed to be playing.

"Is that a public story? Do you mind if I join you?

"I don't mind. I was just talking about Lord Pastry."

"My story?

If Pais turned his face to his father, Casserole, who looked a little evil, almost admitted to his son's presence.

"Um, I was just talking to Uncle Milo about how bad your daily predisposition is. My husband has a lot of parenting experience."

"Ha, let's just say that. By the way, Sir Mortairn, it looks like there have been more people in Zarsden lately. I've seen wheat growing fields on my way here, but there were plenty of people working. I've heard rumors from people I know, but more so than rumors."

"Right. There have been about a dozen more these days. During the winter months, agricultural land was also opened and a basement was created to absorb the growing population."

"I see the boulders are the famous lords and the famous Lord Mortairn. What about Zarsden himself? Even if only the fields are spread out, even if the city is narrower, there will be dissatisfaction. Don't you intend to be serviced again?

"We are involved in the development of the national highway and we are also spending money on it. I don't care about it that far inside. I'm sure we'll have to do all of this, but we'll still have to talk about it."

Two people, Uncle Milo and Casserole, talk to the public, only amateurs think.

If you translate the vague aristocratic part of the conversation between the two of you, you'll say, "Have you been doing too well at your place lately?," he said back to what Uncle Millow had heard, "If you're still holding this back," it takes the form of a

"Really? If I can have a church or a lodging house in the future, I would definitely like to ask because it would be easier for me to come too. It would be a major business if it were to be a development redevelopment of the territorial capital, and in doing so, would you like me to help someone I know?

"I appreciate your concern, but I haven't even decided to develop it yet. Just make yourself comfortable."

"Ha, I was going to get a bite on your house, but unfortunately. Oh, speaking of luxury, your house would certainly have handed out candy."

"Yes, we want to make it a specialty of the future"

Pace reacts sensitively to the word ame and holds his shoulder down with or without a coantro that was behind him as an escort.

Only for a long time, the breath of an abalone.

"I have a special ear for Lord Mortairn, but in fact, I also got candy and candy from someone I know the other day."

"Ho."

"It was delicious inside, so I was wondering if I could just give it a tour of where I was making it, if that's okay"

Coantro suppresses Pais' mouth, which he smiled. Keep it up, hold the boy's body against the chair.

When it comes to sweets, it's easy to run wild if you're careful, and you know it well.

"Unfortunately, it's a bad season now. Making candy is a task that you do after the summer."

"Well, is that what it is? I'm afraid I'll ask you again in that time. Now, unfortunately, if you'll excuse me around here."

"Please come back at any time. We are always welcome to visit our uncle."

With polite courtesy, the man left the room with his escort.

The drop off is Koanthro. The role is to guide you to the exit so that you don't wander around the mansion poorly.

The human being, who had been pressed all along, finally took a breath.

If Uncle Milo returns, Pais and Caserol will be the only two.

Before returning to the office, a report was received from the Revenue Reporter boy.

"Tariff revenue gains were eighteen crowns flying three lobni, sugar processed goods trading gains were one hundred and twenty-five lets and three quarters in the mar, cloth products trading gains were fifteen crowns in the bat...... this was because they included extraordinary spending at Uncle Ratesh's wedding etc. Bean-related sales proceeds fly eleven lets a lobni in Mal......"

A line of numbers to be mentioned for a long time.

In terms of overall revenues for the previous financial year, how do they compare to last year? Casserole's interest was there.

If it is a black run for two years, it can serve as a basis for determining that management has stabilized. Many projects have been put behind them in an attempt to do so since management has stabilized, so there are some anxieties and some expectations.

Note on the wooden board that the pastry says the numbers uneven in the dozens of items, while checking to find out only the occasionally questionable numbers later.

"... that will be forty two and a half lets of Mal in total. Twenty-one crowns strong with plough gold coin conversion"

"Thank you. I still can't believe it, but this is how you became a money-making territory for a pile of gold coins."

Casserole glanced at the view outside with emotion.

From the reception room you can just see the scenery in the realm, it's a really nice view. The scenery in the realm, once blushing with red tea, is also emotional that it has become completely colorful in the last few years.

"Yes, so Shiites said this carry-over should not be used to fund large development investments this fiscal year."

"... that's something to consider. You'll need to invest in your sugar business and your liquor business in the future, and I'd like to have reserves for more people. If it's a corner, I'd like to turn it over to the costume bill and put on some pretty clothes for Jose and Anise."

"Okay. Communicate this figure to all relevant locations and inform them to make requests and use plans."

"I'll take care of it. But if you try this, the profit from trading candy won't be foolish..."

"The unit price is extremely high, so is the margin of interest. Maybe it's not a long time to be able to make blurry money so far. Once the mass production system is in place, the price will drop and the rarity will drop, so it will not be expected to be as cost-effective as ever. More than that, Father, talk about Uncle Millow earlier. Didn't you care?

"Oh, that was earlier."

When they told me about Uncle Milo, I immediately found out what it was about for Casserole.

"What bothered me was that Uncle Millow was getting armor candy. That shouldn't have been so many, and the only place I handed it out was the house on the edge of Uncle Ratesh. No wonder Uncle Milo of the Foreign Affairs Valve used his extensive contacts to get it, but I'm curious."

"Yes. I was curious there, too."

Armor candy is a beautiful treat that looks clear. Since the paces were handcrafted and designed one by one, their use should have been limited over and above a limited number.

If a system of mass production of sugar is developed in the future, it is intended to conduct the business of confectionery production and train technicians, but until then it is also a source of revenue that I would like to keep the manufacturing method secret.

"... have you leaked any information?

"It's possible. Armor candy is simple to make, and it will be easy to imitate if you don't spare just the hassle of trial and error."

"If you do poorly, it's sugar like a pinch of silver coins flying, and I don't even know if it will succeed. Repeat the trial and error...? I thought our son was the only stranger like that."

"Father, I think it's terrible to be a stranger to a real son."

"It's true, so I can't help it. I know best that you're not normal without anyone telling you."

Hmm, and to the father who bounced back his son's protest with one snort, Pais could only roar muffled.

"In the meantime, Uncle Millow is going to show his face again and again, and exploration will be good then"

"Right."

"Well, the report's done, and I'm going back to my job.... all the while, I almost forgot. This is a letter to my father."

"Right, good luck. You can back off, too. Don't make a scene."

"I'm a pacifist. Peace is what you seek."

It was when Pais tried to leave the room, leaving behind a word of extra.

Casserole, who had been eyeing the letter, raised her voice to the lid.

"Wait, Pais"

"Yes?"

"Looks like Lamito did a good job early on. You, fly to Steim fast!!

Port town Steim.

The metropolis, also known as the vice-capital of Count Ratesh territory. A place where logistics flourishes and also serves as a center for dealings with foreign countries.

And it was also the Devil's Capital, where many conspiracies of power swirled.