Joen quickly sent someone to deliver a letter, tactfully declining the Second Prince’s invitation.
He originally thought this was just a small personal choice, and that declining it would be the end of it.
But soon, the Second Prince used practical actions to show him the meaning of a “small whim of power.”
Yuna’s family dinner for Sunday evening was canceled.
The reason was simple and overbearing: as the Saintess and a Cardinal of the Church, Yuna and her uncle Robert “had the honor” of receiving an invitation from the Second Prince.
They were required to attend the Banquet of a Hundred Officials on Sunday.
Holding the apology letter Yuna had sent, Joen looked utterly bewildered.
“It can even work like this?”
Liya, however, quickly became vigilant.
To be honest, this maneuver exposed the Second Prince’s impatience.
Impatience usually represented a very strong sense of purpose.
This purpose was definitely not a routine matter like “recruiting or maintaining relationships,” but rather a more specific plot.
But the question was—what could the Second Prince’s goal be?
He couldn’t possibly be doing this just to vent his sister’s frustrations, could he?
On the other hand, Yuna was no less sensitive to details.
The more she thought about it, the stranger it felt.
She smelled a hint of crisis in this unusual move.
Furthermore, she had more information than Liya did.
“Our relationship with the Second Prince has never been bad, but it hasn’t been good either. The Banquet of a Hundred Officials is a matter for the Grand Tutor’s faction. Why invite us all of a sudden?”
Robert held the invitation, a look of confusion on his face.
Yuna said thoughtfully, “It might… be related to Joen. Uncle, look at the date. It just happens to clash with the day we invited Joen over.”
“Joen informed me before that he would come to participate and talk to you about the disaster in the Dry River Territory.”
“Then what is the Second Prince after? Couldn’t he have just picked another day?”
Robert was even more baffled.
“That is the strange part. Logically, the Second Prince is the most tactful of them all; he shouldn’t go this far.”
“If the Hero rejected them, they should be exerting pressure on the Hero, not us. Unless… they subconsciously view us as rivals.”
“How could we be considered rivals?”
Robert didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Yuna fell silent.
She had a guess that was quite absurd, yet it perfectly matched her understanding of Margaret.
The Second Prince wasn’t inviting Joen to recruit him or to discuss national affairs.
It was for… the purpose of matching Joen and Margaret.
Because only then would she be considered the Princess’s “rival,” a target that needed to be suppressed.
“Uncle, have you obtained the Goddess of Love’s grace yet?”
Yuna suddenly became nervous.
“It’s not that fast… Why are you in such a hurry?”
Robert found it even more amusing.
“I’m a little afraid.”
Yuna turned around to face Robert, clasping her hands together in a pleading, spoiled manner.
“Please, Uncle, this matter is very important to me. Can you obtain it a bit faster?”
“Sigh, I understand.”
Robert let out a long sigh.
After Robert left, the bad premonition in Yuna’s heart grew heavier and heavier.
The Princess had always looked down on Joen, so Yuna hadn’t worried about the Princess developing any feelings for him before.
But… Joen had tormented the Princess so harshly that he had forced her to acknowledge his status.
What if?
What if it triggered some strange, hidden attribute in her?
As far as Yuna knew, the more a “little female beast” was arrogant and willful like the Princess, the easier it was for her to be conquered by strong or even violent methods.
Joen was unaware of the undercurrents shifting in the Empire Capital.
He had just finished unwrapping his gifts and listening to the letter when Leopold, the court steward, arrived looking radiant.
He politely informed Joen that the mansion bestowed by the King had been prepared, and the Duke of White Wolf could move in at his convenience.
Joen subconsciously drifted into a daze, a sense of absurd fantasy welling up in his heart.
Due to a series of coincidences, he had never expected that the boy from the countryside from years ago would actually set up a home in the Empire Capital.
This “home” was personally bestowed by the most noble person in the world.
A long time later.
Joen took a Chariot to the mansion that belonged to him.
The Duke of White Wolf’s residence was located in the core area of the Empire Capital, in a luxury villa district closest to the Imperial Palace called the **”Emerald Garden.”**
The land prices here were worth their weight in gold.
Any random property would cost tens of thousands of Gold Kuron.
Moreover, it was a symbol of status that money alone might not be able to buy.
After listening to Leopold’s introduction, Joen gulped all the way, unable to stop himself from calculating in his head.
*’If I sold twenty houses like this, wouldn’t that solve the disaster relief problem in the Dry River Territory?’*
One had to know that the “priceless treasures” and rare Level 9 Magic Equipment the Princess showed off when trying to recruit him were only worth about that much.
His estimate for the disaster relief funds for the Dry River Territory was 2 million Gold Kuron.
If they tightened their belts, 1 million gold coins could barely get them through.
He calculated it this way: the average price for a pound of brown rice was twenty Copper Kulun.
If they were thrifty and each person consumed one pound of rice a day, they would need 100 days to last from winter until the spring planting.
With 2 million Doom Victims, the consumption of rations alone would be 400,000 Gold Kuron.
Adding in the costs for winter clothing and fuel, 1 million was barely enough.
Leopold quite admired this simple Hero.
Seeing him frowning, he instantly guessed what he was thinking.
Leopold gave a kind reminder, “Duke of White Wolf, this is a property bestowed by His Majesty, representing the vastness of the Imperial Grace.”
“This kind of thing cannot be sold recklessly. Otherwise, it would be a slap to His Majesty’s face.”
“Even if you truly dared to sell it, no one in this Empire Capital would dare to buy it.”
Joen nodded, able only to offer a bitter smile.
What truly made him sigh was that this mansion at the foot of the Imperial Palace was easily worth tens of thousands of gold.
Meanwhile, the Dry River Territory was in a life-and-death crisis with mourning heard everywhere.
This absurd contrast was like a thorn stuck deep in his throat, causing a burning pain.
Once they arrived, Joen looked around blankly.
Instead of calling it a villa, it was more like an independent estate within the city.
The towering, carved iron gates slowly opened, revealing vistas of colorful gardens.
Rare trees from the south grew lushly here, with flowers blooming throughout all four seasons.
The artificial lake used expensive water circulation Magic, allowing clear, warm spring water to gush out even during the dry season.
Seven elegant, retro white stone buildings were scattered throughout the depths of the gardens.
Every brick and stone exuded the elegance and nobility cultivated by time.
Joen had never seen such a house in his life.
He asked foolishly:
“Which one inside is my house?”
Leopold turned back and grinned at the simple boy.
“Every one of them.”
He said cheerfully.
Before Joen had time to digest this fact, he was led to the front of the main building.
The doors swung open, and forty-nine servants stood in three neat rows.
Aside from a few middle-aged women doing heavy labor and old men responsible for gardening, the rest were all young beauties with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing black and white maid outfits.
Upon seeing Joen, they bowed in unison, their voices sweet and crisp:
“Master~”
Joen instinctively took a step back in fright and slammed the door shut again.
He knit his brows and looked down blankly, staring eye-to-eye with Liya, who had poked her little head out upon hearing the noise.
“Friend~ is this club… oh wait, is this house of yours legitimate?”
Liya teased in a charming voice.
Joen replied with a helpless look.