"No person or organization may lease more than 100 hectares... Doesn't that mean those peasants will make all the money?"
In the office of the former Minister of War of Reekan, now head of Free City's Military Affairs Department, a nobleman with an upturned mustache complained loudly.
Reynaldo sat on the sofa with a newspaper in his hands and hot tea beside him. "A hundred hectares is a square two kilometers on each side. Isn't that enough?"
"Enough? How are we supposed to make money from such a tiny plot?"
"Horus, I thought joining Free City would make you a little smarter..." Reynaldo sighed and set down the newspaper. "This is obviously a benefit Annan prepared for civilians. Haven't you noticed that no one but you is interested?"
"Our lord loves his people more than anything. If you try to take their profits, do you think he's too young to stop you? Or have you forgotten how many nobles he hanged in the Royal Capital?"
Reynaldo's words reminded Horus of the shadow Annan had cast over the Royal Capital's nobles. Even his voice grew quieter.
"Then what should I do? Lord Reynaldo, I've always been your loyal subordinate..."
"Save your loyalty for our lord." Reynaldo smiled. "If you want a hundred hectares of Wasteland, take it. Make a good showing at the Autumn Harvest. Bring in the best yield and make Annan remember you."
"Wouldn't that make me his dog?"
"You think that's beneath you?"
Horus stammered. Reynaldo said evenly, "Do you know how many of the Kingdom's Old Nobility would love to be his dog but can't?"
"But he isn't even twenty..."
Reynaldo shook his head, no longer wanting to talk to him. "You bow and scrape to a ministerial adviser who's given up real power, yet look down