Duke Ryan had heard words like these before. The Hungarians had even approached him directly.
But, to be honest, he wasn't interested in the Hungarians' money. As Count Savoy had said, shares in the Austrian Imperial Overseas Development Company were simply too lucrative.
Those who had accepted Franz's invitation in the early days, or had joined in during the first two years, had seen their investments grow at least two- or threefold over the years.
It had been less than six years since the company's reorganization in 1842, yet its actual annual rate of return was close to 50%.
Even latecomers could easily double their assets. It was an absurdly high figure, enough to make anyone green with envy.
The House of Vantro, which had once commanded millions in cash flow, was one of the Austrian Empire's top aristocratic families. Apart from the imperial family and Archduke Charles, only a handful of families could produce several million florins at once.
Franz had once received only a little over a hundred thousand florins' worth of gifts for his birthday. To ordinary people, several million florins was an astronomical sum—one that might take tens of thousands of years to save if they spent nothing at all.
Franz had shown considerable good faith in trying to help these people, but giving did not guarantee a return. It could even earn him their scorn.
One side eagerly sought the other out, while the other looked down on them. Naturally, they had nothing to say to one another.
"Duke Vantro, are you sure you aren't inviting a wolf into your home? Once the Hungarians march into the city, will they still keep their promises?
"I'm afraid you'll have to spit out everything you've swallowed by then."
Duke Ryan spoke with brutal frankness, but Count Savoy's