The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

Chapter 262: Villainous Boss Nigel (12) - The King and Tea Bag Set The king who ruled Shurabasti. Bahram Baharah was an extremely capable man. When the nomads of the northern grasslands were running wild at their peak, he personally took up the sword to confront them, and excelled in domestic administration, making both his family and nation wealthy. However, even such a man had one particular flaw. It was that he was excessively doting. Especially when it came to his youngest and only daughter, he was practically wrapped around her finger. "I've decided not to interfere particularly with that merchant called Nigel." Therefore, Bahram suddenly blurting out such words during mealtime was undoubtedly greatly influenced by his youngest daughter Fariza. When Bahram's eldest son, Zarka Baharah, reflexively looked at his younger sister, she quietly buried her head and pretended to focus on eating. At least she seems to know what she did wrong. Suppressing the urge to unconsciously let out a sigh, Zarka addressed his respected father-king. "Your Majesty. Please reconsider. Those canned goods are far too dangerous to leave unattended. If that technology falls into the hands of other cities, it could even lead to security threats to Shurabasti." Even though it was a family meal, he called him "Your Majesty" instead of "father" because he wanted to emphasize that this was official business. Despite surely noticing that implication, Bahram answered with a hearty laugh. "But Zarka. Encouraging merchants' free activities is precisely the kind of action befitting the spirit of this Shurabasti, is it not?" Zarka unconsciously wanted to retort, "When have we ever conducted market activities so fairly and squarely?" It's not like other nations don't do the same, but in the Markanda region, wealth is precisely power and violence. This means that the family ruling a city is essentially the most vicious merchant bunch in that family. If there's someone with useful technology, they somehow bring them into their fold, and if that fails, they thoroughly crush them. That would be the virtue and duty of a ruler governing Shurabasti, but here he was spouting such idealistic nonsense, leaving no recourse. Intuitively realizing that saying anything here would be useless, Zarka made time after the meal to seek out his father separately. "You've come. Sit there." As if he had already guessed that he would come, Bahram quietly offered tea. The father-king, who in his younger days drank kumiss and date wine like water, had begun to enjoy tea at some point. However, Zarka didn't particularly like tea. While he thought the taste and aroma themselves weren't too bad, the process of filtering through specialized tea sets several times felt quite cumbersome. "...Hmm?" But why was this? On the table where tea sets were always placed, there were only cups and a silver cylindrical object sitting alone. He knew what the silver cylindrical object was. It must be that thermos that the shop supposedly only supplied to Fariza. Then the hot water problem would be solved, but what about the rest? There was no container with tea leaves, no bowl for discarding water from the filtering process, and no strainer for filtering out tea leaf residue. Instead, there was only a whitish cloth pouch-like thing in the cup. "Father, what is this?" At Zarka's question, Bahram raised the corners of his mouth as if he had been waiting. "You'll understand when you see it yourself." Bahram tilted the thermos and poured hot water into the cup containing the cloth pouch. Then, gripping the string and paper sticking out of the cup like a handle, he swirled the cloth pouch around in the hot water. As the color of the hot water changed and the aroma wafted up, Zarka's eyes widened. "What's inside that pouch... was it tea leaves?" "Yes. Isn't it truly convenient and refined? Without needing to go through all sorts of complicated processes, you just put this cloth pouch called a tea bag into the cup, pour hot water, and you're done." There was no need to ask where he had gotten such a thing. The fact that his father was showing this at this timing was essentially the answer. Following his father who lightly blew away the steam before drinking his tea, Zarka also brought the tea to his lips. From the green-tinted water, he could taste something between astringency and nuttiness. 'Honestly, just considering the aroma itself, the previous brewing method was better. People with picky tastes might have this or that to say.' However, for Zarka, who merely liked the feeling of tea but wasn't particularly picky about the taste or aroma itself, this was sufficient. Above all, wasn't the convenience overwhelming? "Look at this." To Zarka, who was enjoying the taste and aroma of the tea, Bahram held out a small box. Inside what seemed to be a paper box, other papers were densely packed, and when Bahram tore open one of those papers, out popped the cloth pouch in the teacup—that is, the thing called a tea bag. "...This is incredibly elaborate packaging. These clean and delicate cloth pouches alone would be quite valuable, yet each one is wrapped in colored paper." "There are many varieties too. Green tea, barley tea, solomon's seal tea—some familiar ones and some unfamiliar ones." When Zarka glanced at the shelf, colorful paper boxes were densely filling an entire section. "I understand that Father has received excellent tribute. And the fact that that merchant Nigel shows considerable courtesy to our family." But, Zarka added. "I still oppose letting him run free. To give him favors just because we're tempted by the things he offers is too risky, given the potential and danger he possesses." So don't be swayed by your daughter's wheedling or such bribes. Zarka wanted to say that, but Bahram merely chuckled. "You've really grown up. Now you want to discuss politics with this old man." "...I wasn't trying to infringe on Father's authority." "Enough. Since your younger brothers are immature, you at least need to have this side to you. But your perspective is too narrow." Bahram said while looking down at the green-steeped tea. "Thermos, tea bags, and those canned goods you're so concerned about. They're truly valuable. And frightening in a way." "Yes, so shouldn't we be the ones to get our hands on them?" "No, these are things that cannot be obtained through force." "What do you mean...?" Toward his puzzled son, the wise ruler of Shurabasti imparted his teaching. "If it were simply about creating a few special items, that would just be a skilled craftsman. You could get your hands on those things by securing that individual. But mass-producing them in perfect quality by the dozens and hundreds is a separate matter. That's not something like the ability of just one craftsman. It's something that requires hundreds, thousands, or even more efforts and techniques to converge and intertwine with each other." Zarka's brow furrowed. After being lost in thought for a moment, he soon realized what his father-king was trying to say. "Do you think there's a separate backer? If that's the case, I've already investigated, but he's never shown signs of contacting external groups." "That's even more frightening. It means they can completely evade surveillance. Do you think you can win by making enemies of opponents whose true nature you don't even clearly know?" "......" Enemies. Zarka chewed over that word. A mere foreign merchant becoming an 'enemy' of the Baharah Family, the rulers of Shurabasti. It was hard to accept such words easily. But at the same time, Zarka realized his own contradiction. '...It can't be just a mere merchant. When I assessed that the technology he possesses could threaten this city, how can I underestimate the merchant himself?' "Thank you for your teaching, Father. I feel as if I've washed sand from my eyes with water." "Yes. While his true purpose remains unclear, he pays his taxes punctually and offers various tributes like this, also taking care of our convenience and dignity. Rather than showing a coercive attitude for no reason, it would be better to keep him as a friend." "Even if the other party is just pretending to be harmless in order to use us?" "Then wouldn't we need to keep him even closer and watch him more carefully?" Every word was absolutely correct. Thinking that his father was indeed a great monarch, Zarka felt respect rising in his chest. "Dad! I want to do some special training, can you get me a beastkin slave?" "Oh, my daughter. If you need it, wouldn't I be able to get anything? Well, are there any particular conditions you're looking for?" ......It really seems like he was just blinded by his daughter and made up justifications after the fact. Zarka let out another deep sigh.