This morning, my grandfather's military drill didn't happen. Still, I woke up at my usual hour.
"The sewer project blueprints are finally done," Mnex announced. "Also, the custom diagrams, formulas and shopping list you requested last night are ready."
"Perfect!"
As I looked over the plans and sketches, I noticed how meticulous Mnex had been. Everything was laid out in exacting detail, truly impressive work.
But we still hadn't discovered concrete, which meant the entire project was stalled for now. I carefully rolled up the papers and stored them away.
Then came my morning workout, two laps around the garden, followed by fifteen push ups and fifteen jumping jacks.
It didn't tire me out anymore, but according to Mnex, I shouldn't overstrain my body just yet.
Instead, he recommended jump rope. I didn't have one, so I imagined it jumping rhythmically, pretending the rope was there.
Mnex said it was better for directing growth hormones toward bone development rather than muscle gain.
After the workout, I headed to Charles and the soap workshop. As always, Doyle and Raymond were with me.
Gareth and Isolde had been busy these past few days producing more hot or not sticks.
Father said, "It wouldn't hurt to have a few extras." If one of them broke, we'd need a backup.
He had a point, so I didn't argue. On the way, I stopped at a few places to place orders for the items on Mnex's list.
Since I had no money, Raymond stepped in to handle payments.
By the time we reached the Phoenix Soap Workshop, the building that greeted me looked nothing like it used to.
Gone was the filthy, falling apart shack. In its place stood a clean, renovated structure with sunken hearths and stone flooring.
And the best part? The entire crew was already lined up, waiting like they'd foreseen my arrival.
What is this, a warband?
"Your popularity's growing," Mnex muttered. "Can't imagine why."
Jealous, are we? Little bitter gremlin?
"Enjoy your local fame, child," he huffed. "My name is known across the multiverse."
I didn't bother responding. His jealousy was obvious.
"Charles!" I called. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes, young lord. As ordered, we've renovated the entire building according to your plans. Materials are stocked, and the crew is prepped."
"Welcome, young lord!" they all said in unison.
First, I instructed them to boil animal fat with lye in large cauldrons. Each batch would be mixed with different scents for variety, but they had to be very careful with this part.
I emphasized sticking closely to Mnex's formula from last night, any deviation could result in skin irritation.
With this method, we'd produce soaps that were both fragrant and hygienic.
And if Mnex's calculations were right, our new process would shorten the curing time from 6–8 days to just two.
The soaps would be mold ready and shelf ready in record time.
Finally, each bar would be stamped with a custom seal I had forged at the blacksmith's.
That way, our products would be instantly recognizable and our brand would spread much faster.
When everything was set, I gave Doyle a look. He knew exactly what to do.
"Anyone leaking information will get a taste of the soap first," Doyle said coldly. "And then a taste of my blade."
We'd discussed this on the way, just a little motivational speech for the team. It landed exactly as intended.
As we were leaving, I handed Charles another bundle of papers.
"Take these," I said. "Tomorrow, more materials will arrive. Follow the diagrams and formulas closely.
I'll return in two days. Make sure everything's ready."
Said like a true businessman, I walked out of the workshop.
And as always, Mnex couldn't resist a parting quip.
"So, we've got soap, a symbol, and state sanctioned threats.
We're officially a business now."
After that, we returned home.
With nothing much to do over the next two days, I spent my mornings, training and my afternoons with my mother. In the evenings, I dove into my mental world and attended Mnex's private lessons, usually focused on new types of magic or combat techniques.
Honestly, those lessons were the toughest part of my day. According to Mnex, knowledge meant nothing if it wasn't repeated. If I didn't make what I learned a habit, something I could do without even thinking, it would fade away. So even though Mnex kept raising the difficulty, I didn't complain.
And just like that, two days passed, and I found myself back at the soap workshop.
"Welcome back, young lord." This time, Charles was already waiting for us at the door.
"Charles, you don't have to get so worked up every time. If you keep things running smoothly, you won't be seeing me that often."
"Young lord, I could never disrespect you," he said with a quick nod. "All the materials you asked for are here. I've packaged them exactly as requested."
Right next to him was a basket filled with a few bars of soap and the other supplies I'd ordered. I gave it a quick look. Mnex gave his approval, and we set off for our next destination.
Raymond carried the basket. Doyle followed right behind me like a proper bodyguard. And me? I strutted out in front like a chihuahua who thought he owned the world.
Honestly, the three of us made a surprisingly decent team. A little absurd looking, sure but I think we were finally starting to understand each other. That said, there was still a bit of an unspoken rivalry between Raymond and Doyle. They only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary.
Once we reached the city center, finding the place I was looking for wasn't hard. It was easily the largest and most extravagant building in the area.
The Fugger.
Yep. I came to see Remy.
From what I'd gathered, his family was local but not affiliated with any house or kingdom. And yet, they did business across the entire continent.
There's even a rumor that every kingdom, every major city, has at least one Fugger branch. That makes them one of the first truly international companies of this era.
I could feel my competitive side stirring… but for now, what mattered was taking the first step. The rest would follow.
I entered through the front door.
"Welcome. How may I assist you?" A receptionist approached right away.
"Ahem. Young Lord Henry of House Godfrey is here," Raymond cut in before I could speak. I gave him a quick look.
"Ah, my apologies, young lord. I meant no disrespect," the receptionist said, his posture still poised and professional. "Would you like to continue in a private room?"
Huh. So they have private rooms for clients. Interesting.
Shortly after we entered the private room, Remy walked in but not through the same door we had used.
"Ah, young lord! What a pleasant surprise," he said warmly, bowing slightly before sitting across from me.
Must be the voice of experience, I thought.
"I figured this was the perfect time to pay you a visit," I said without shifting an inch.
Sure, I was three years old but I had paid taxes, attended more dull meetings than I could count, and had a soul older than most people in this room. If Remy had experience, well, so did I.
"There's a vast difference between you two. He's a successful businessman. You, on the other hand, work for a company where your boss's existence is still technically a rumor..."
Okay! Point taken, Mnex. You don't have to spell it out.
"Rumors about you seem to spread faster every day, young lord," Remy said, masking his curiosity behind a smile. "Are you in need of something for your new project with Lord Godfrey?"
"That's called intel baiting. He's trying to get you to spill something without directly asking for it."
"Oh, nothing like that," I replied. "I just happened to be nearby, saw the name Fugger, and thought I'd drop in to say hello."
"How delightful. You know, I've actually been thinking about you lately. Everyone's talking about you. To be honest, it's hard not to be curious.
Not about the failing crops or the looming famine but about you, and your family's name rising in the midst of it all."
"He's doing it again."
I know. Just let him finish.
"Is that so? I hope the things they're saying aren't too terrible."
"People are nervous. These fertile lands may not yield enough to feed everyone this winter… and yet, somehow, you're promising food to the masses while collecting their chickens. Naturally, tongues are wagging."
"So what you're really wondering… is why."
"Ha ha, well, when I heard a few days ago that your men were out by the Vidir'Avon River catching flies with nets… you have to admit, that's not something one hears every day."
"Then let's keep this between us," I said. "Sooner or later, people will find out anyway. We've developed a new system one that will speed up poultry production and ensure there's enough food for everyone."
"Smart move, Henry. If this rumor comes from Remy's mouth, it'll carry weight.
I'll admit, it's actually a clever play."
A rare compliment from Mnex. I almost smiled.
Remy, meanwhile, was thinking.
"And the flies? What are they for?"
"Feed."
"Fascinating. Never heard of that being done before. I'll be watching with interest." He sniffed the air subtly. "By the way… did you bring perfume with you? The room smells wonderful."
He'd gotten what he wanted, and now he was shifting the topic. Slick.
"Not perfume. A new soap," I said, pulling a bar from the basket, the one I'd had specially made for the nobility.
Remy stood casually and took it from my hand, examining the packaging.
"Even sealed, the scent is remarkable. Would it be rude to ask where you bought it?"
"Not at all. Do you remember Charles?"
"Ah, of course. How could I forget? But as far as I know, Charles only makes third rate soap. He couldn't have made this. Mind if I open it?"
"Go ahead," I said.
I waited as he unwrapped it and the fragrance quickly filled the entire room.
"Actually, Charles did make it," I said, letting that hang in the air for just a moment. "But… I gave him a new formula. Thanks to that, he produced the soap you're holding now."