Duke Calvin sat alone in his study, holding a neatly trimmed letter signed by his eighth son, Louis Calvin.
Almost like clockwork, one such letter arrived every three months, traveling all the way from Red Tide City in the Northern Frontier to the Calvin estate in the Southeast.
"Tsk... the boy certainly knows the proper forms." A hint of sarcasm colored Duke Calvin's voice.
He unfolded the letter at a leisurely pace, his gaze sweeping over the familiar opening:
"I am grateful for the family's protection and provisions. Governance of the Red Tide Fief remains stable, operations have proceeded smoothly this quarter, the populace is content, and preparations for winter are complete..."
The latter half of the letter, however, was where he started shaking the family down for money.
"With construction of the New Port approaching, I intend to expand the shipyard. We still lack skilled shipwrights and technicians, and I hope the family can assist in assigning personnel...
Once the port is completed, goods will be able to travel directly between the Southern Frontier and the Northern Frontier by sea, avoiding lengthy journeys.
Transport is expected to take less than a third of the current time, increasing Red Tide's capacity for foreign trade while also benefiting the Family Trade Guild's Southeast branch through coordinated operations."
Duke Calvin nodded in agreement despite himself.
This was no matter of a few horses or sacks of grain. Shipping capacity, trade routes, and even bargaining power between the Northern Frontier and other provinces-particularly the Southeast Province-would all shift as a result.
But this son of his really was greedy. Skilled shipwrights were not laborers one could simply pick up off the street.
The family had already sent him two batches of workers, and he still claimed it was not enough?
"You certainly have