To a noble, luxury goods were an extremely important possession.
They were the simplest way to proclaim one’s power and prestige.
Just owning them already produced the desired effect.
But only if the majority of people recognized them as luxurious.
Being unique or rare didn’t automatically make something a luxury item.
It had to possess a charm that everyone coveted.
In that regard, Adam’s porcelain was perfect.
Even the workers who knew nothing about aesthetics couldn’t help but gasp in admiration.
“The problem is how to utilize it.”
Didn’t I say luxury goods were a means to display authority?
If I simply held a party and showed off Adam’s porcelain, pandemonium would ensue.
Nobles would swarm like bees just to obtain a single piece.
Then rallying a faction would be child’s play.
But why would I need to do that?
Viscount Erseth had been a middling figure at best.
He was an official in the Imperial Palace’s Internal Affairs Bureau, but there were plenty of those.
Calling him top-tier aristocracy would have been a stretch.
If I had been in Viscount Erseth’s shoes, I would have aggressively exploited Adam’s porcelain—gifting pieces to royalty and high nobles in exchange for more privileges.
But I was the Emperor’s only cousin.
“What more authority do I need to build here?”
Even if my fortune had shrunk a little, it was still more than enough.
There was no reason to scramble desperately.
There wasn’t anyone above me…
Wait, yes there is.
As long as Adam kept working, the existence of his porcelain would inevitably become known.
Then people would start asking why I was keeping such wonderful things all to myself.
I could ignore the nobles’ chatter completely, but the Emperor?
“Goosebumps already.”
Whatever the case, sending gifts first seemed the safest move.
Of course, I couldn’t present Adam’s pieces as they were—the colors were beautiful, but the designs were terrible.
Handing over a flat platter would just look pathetic.
I, who had seen and heard a bit more of the world, needed to give some advice.
“Adam.”
—What? Don’t like my bowls?
“No, the subtle blue tint is excellent. The surface texture and durability are both perfect.”
—Ooh! Then why the face?
“The shape is awful. How about trying it like this?”
I sketched it out for him.
It was the form of Goryeo celadon I had often seen while studying Korean history.
When I added patterns and finished it, Adam’s eyes went perfectly round.
—T-this…!
“How is it? Killer, right?”
—You’re a genius. How did you even think of this?
“Ahem! Just one of my insignificant talents.”
I laughed awkwardly and shrugged.
I felt a little sorry toward the ancestors who had created those great works.
But what was wrong with a little copying?
This was a completely different world anyway.
“Once you’re done with those, try making some other things too.”
—Just say the word. What do you want?
“Something plainer… No, better if I draw it.”
I quickly sketched several bowl shapes.
They were much simpler than celadon and all pure white.
“You don’t need to put too much effort into these.”
—Why not?
“Because we’ll be mass-producing them. We’re going to churn them out and sell them cheap. Think you can do it?”
—If it doesn’t require much effort, yes. But the quality won’t be great…
“They just need to be sturdy.”
—Understood.
Bowls are something everyone needs.
You can’t just spread food on the table and eat it.
Normally, nobles used silver platters while commoners used wooden bowls.
If porcelain suddenly barged in?
More hygienic than wood and prettier to look at—how could it not sell?
It’ll be a sensation.
I grinned at Adam, who was beaming ear to ear.
He was that happy over a single hastily-drawn blueprint—definitely an artisan’s spirit.
No wonder his tastes had seemed refined.
“Butler Wilkin?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Procure everything Adam needs. When the items are finished, call me first.”
“Understood.”
After giving a few more orders, I returned to my room.
Now I was really going to rest.
“Damn it all…
So weekends getting erased isn’t just a modern-world thing.”
Spitting curses under my breath, I climbed into the carriage.
I had planned to settle Adam’s situation and finally enjoy some deep rest.
Yet when I came to my senses, it was already Monday.
I had literally just sprawled out for a bit and eaten a few meals.
“We have arrived, Your Highness.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Please give us another splendid verdict today! Haha!”
The coachman’s cheerful greeting felt especially heavy today.
I was terrified of what kind of insane case awaited me at the court.
And sure enough, even reading the complaint left me baffled.
“What the hell does this even mean? A noble lost his entire fortune to a commoner?”
“Yes, that is the gist.”
“Judge Emir, is this remotely possible in your view?”
“Normally, no.”
“Then this case has some hidden backstory too?”
“Under ordinary circumstances I couldn’t say that, but given Your Excellency’s recent track record…”
“What about my track record?”
“You have uncovered perfect truth multiple times. I simply meant it feels like this time will be the same.”
No matter how I looked at it, that sounded like a backhanded insult, but I couldn’t be sure.
Kolund Emir’s face was far too serious.
He didn’t seem the type to do that anyway.
If Joseph had said the exact same thing, I would’ve been 100% certain.
“Let’s just go in for now.”
“Yes.”
Pushing aside the uneasy feeling, I entered the courtroom.
Prosecutor Corbin Sears immediately rose and announced,
“We will now begin the trial for the theft case involving the House of Baron Lelbrant. All rise and salute the Chief Justice!”
CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!
I politely bowed my head toward those saluting me, then took the high seat.
The greeting is fine, but I still can’t get used to this outfit.
It was flashy enough to appear on a trot music show without looking out of place.
Not just the prosecutors—even the judges wore similar garments.
They weren’t even elegantly flashy like stage costumes; they were just cumbersome and excessively frilly.
I really needed to change these.
Once the cloth factory was finished, these bizarre judicial robes would be the first to go.
I had thought they were some deeply historic tradition.
While I was lost in thoughts about clothing, the trial officially began.
Prosecutor Corbin Sears was passionately pressing the defendant.
“The defendant Margot gathered people and stormed the Lelbrant mansion. She took the baron’s children hostage. Do you admit to this much?”
“We did enter, but we never took hostages!”
“Then why did Baron Lelbrant hand over the money? He wasn’t threatened at all, was he?”
“We asserted our contractual rights. I told him if he didn’t repay, we would sue.”
“The victim’s statement says otherwise.”
“That’s just words, isn’t it? I have proof!”
At the defendant’s shout, her lawyer immediately moved.
A single contract was submitted to the bench.
It stated that Baron Lelbrant had borrowed 500 goldens.
Kolund and Joseph nodded gravely.
“It certainly looks real.”
“Home invasion was excessive, but the promissory note appears genuine.”
I immediately asked Prosecutor Sears,
“Were you aware of this fact?”
“The victims also admitted to borrowing the money.”
“Then why is this a theft case?”
“Because… the defendant extorted an excessive amount.”
“How much?”
“Approximately 900 goldens.”
Even accounting for interest, that was roughly 200 goldens extra.
A simple ruling of trespassing and intimidation plus restitution of the excess would probably suffice.
Yet the defendant’s expression and eyes looked far too desperate.
So I decided to give her one chance.
“Defendant, if you have anything more to say, go ahead.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency. There is a reason I had to draw up a promissory note this time. The baron never repaid his debts before.”
“This has happened multiple times?”
“Yes. Even after writing the note, he still didn’t repay. That’s why I had no choice but to take extreme measures.”
Ah, I could feel the same pain as wage arrears.
The sorrow of someone whose rightful money had been withheld.
I once lent money to an acquaintance and never got it back.
I trusted him completely because we were so close.
It was a small amount, but it still stung.
After that, I never lent money to anyone again—no matter how close we were.
“The amount is a bit unclear. We’ll need to see the victim. Where is Baron Lelbrant?”
“He has been brought as a witness.”
“Then call him in now.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Soon the knights escorted in a middle-aged man.
He was neatly dressed but lacked the ostentatious splendor typical of nobles.
It seemed to be his natural style; his demeanor was very relaxed.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Excellency.”
“Pleased to meet you. We’ll hear your testimony. Please stand at the podium and take the oath first.”
“Yes.”
The moment their eyes met—the defendant and the victim—cold sweat visibly poured down Baron Lelbrant’s forehead.
Watching that, I tilted my head.
A noble and a commoner—why is he nervous?
He had been perfectly fine just moments ago.
Was a mere commoner more uncomfortable to him than me, someone of far higher status?
It made no sense.
Anyway, preparations were complete, so it was time for questions.
“Have you ever borrowed money from the defendant? She says multiple times.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you repay it?”
“It was such a large sum that repayment was delayed. But she took that much interest, so it wasn’t wrong.”
“Is that so? What was the net annual profit of the Lelbrant territory last year?”
“About 12,000 goldens.”
That was enough to feed 5,000 serfs for a year.
“And 500 goldens is a large amount?”
“Well, that is…”
A question I slipped in naturally.
For the first time, the baron—who had been answering fluently—was at a loss for words.
Wasn’t that the truth?
To a commoner, 500 goldens was an enormous sum, but to a hereditary noble it was not.
Lords had many sources of income beyond farming.
Sensing something off, I tossed out a nuclear keyword.
“Seems the slush fund couldn’t cover it?”
“GASP?!”
An immediate, shocked intake of breath.
I had just thrown it out there casually, yet it hooked perfectly.