"I can’t say you look very anxious, seeing as you’re in the mood to host a banquet." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Eric crossed his arms and sighed.

Ever since he entered this castle, he’d had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, Robert was an unreliable fellow.

"Alright, stop making fun of me. Just help me think of something. I’ve been going mad these past few days. Those men are just freeloading off me, and I don’t have the money to let this drag on."

"You haven’t considered levying taxes by force?"

"I’ve checked the ledgers and toured the countryside. The villages are already at their breaking point. If I try to force a tax, I’m afraid the commoners will revolt. And if I make a mess of things like that, the old man’s eyes will be on me in no time."

Robert slumped into a nearby chair, clutching his head.

"What about the King of France?"

"Don’t even mention that idiot. He’s been plotting to divorce my cousin, which has my uncle furious. Why? Because he’s got his eye on the wife of Fulk of Anjou. The fool actually sent a formal petition for divorce to the Holy See. He’s completely lost his mind."

"And the worst part is, two weeks ago he backed Godfrey, the Duke of Upper Lorraine, in an attack against my uncle. They fought a battle in the Netherlands."

"What did the Holy See say?"

"I don’t know, but the consequences should be obvious. The Holy See is bound to be furious. Let’s just hope they don’t find out about our alliance with the King of France."

"Is there any good news at all?"

’What kind of people am I dealing with?’

Eric was left speechless.

"There is some. My uncle recalled the Flemish Spear Soldiers who were with my father. But in exchange, he had to pay them a severance fee, so he doesn’t have any money to lend us for now."

"The King of France has arranged for Crossbowmen from Genoa for us and advanced a quarter of their wages and travel expenses. The rest is to be paid by us when they arrive."

"Why not the ones from Navarre?"

"The ones from Navarre are a fifth more expensive than those from Genoa. Besides, the Governor of the Republic of Genoa is his cousin’s husband, so we can get a bit of a discount."

"Please, Eric, just think of something. I don’t care about anything else right now. I just want to get my hands on some money."

Robert grabbed Eric’s shoulders.

"I have two solutions. You can decide which one you’d prefer."

"The first is relatively simple: find a way to debase the currency by lowering its silver content and adding more copper. However, that would be very damaging to your reputation."

"And the second?"

Robert released his grip.

"Let’s convene a Third Estate Meeting."

"What did you say?"

"The Nobility, the Priests, and the commoners—the three estates. Have your Proclamation Officer go to every city, Monastery, and village. Tell them to elect representatives to attend a meeting in Rouen. The countryside is already at its limit; we don’t need to squeeze money from the poor."

"Focus on the cities and Monasteries. Tell them how much money you need, and negotiate."

Eric took a few sheets of parchment from the side of the table and handed them to Robert.

"Are you telling me a fairy tale? If money could be obtained just by negotiating, why would I be in this mess?"

Robert’s brow furrowed, clearly unhappy with Eric’s answer.

"Anything can be obtained through negotiation. If you fail, it either means you never intended to name your price, or your price wasn’t attractive enough."

"Price? What price do I have now? Am I supposed to lead a troop of Knights over and raid their homes?"

"You’re the Duke. Even if you aren’t officially, everything in Normandy is at your disposal right now. You need to think—what do the cities want?"

"Money?"

"What are you talking about? They need your privileges. Your charters of liberty."

"You can grant them greater market advantages, the exclusive right to sell silks, the authority to manage their own policing, the freedom to appoint their own city officials, an independent judiciary—even some ostentatious but empty dignities. These are all things they desperately crave. How many similar petitions do you think are piled up on your father’s desk?"

"The same logic applies to the Nobility and the Knights. Your father’s interference in their manors was too blatant, and it has made them deeply resentful. You can make them promises, grant them more privileges, or even renounce rights of wardship."

"As for the countryside, although we don’t need to collect money from them, we can earn ourselves a good name. You can promise them complete or partial freedom of movement, free use of the forests, quarries, and ponds..."

In the Middle Ages, a Feudal Lord theoretically possessed the right of wardship over his Vassal’s underage heirs or heiresses. He could grant this wardship to a completely unrelated person. The one who obtained this wardship could enjoy all the tax revenue from the ward’s lands until they came of age and could even decide their ward’s marriage.

Therefore, many Feudal Lords would grant the wardship of their Vassal’s underage heiress to a favored Knight as a reward. As the guardian, the Knight could then force the heiress to marry him, thereby acquiring her lands.

Conqueror William seized the throne of England, establishing supreme royal power with his unprecedented military achievements. This made these theoretical rights a reality, and they began to spiral out of control.

Eric put a hand on Robert’s shoulder.

"Once these privileges are sold, they are hard to take back, Eric."

Robert clutched his head.

But the fact that he said it meant he was already considering the possibility.

"Robert, take the long view. Why worry about losing things you don’t even possess yet, not before your great undertaking is complete? You’ve already chosen to make your move; you should know that if you fail, you lose everything."

"Not to mention these so-called privileges. When you ascend the throne, your long reign will be enough for you to take back everything that was originally yours. You’re only twenty-one, Robert. You’ll be able to rule for at least thirty years. Thirty years is enough time to change anything."

Eric gripped Robert’s wrist.

"You have to understand, with something like a rebellion, you absolutely cannot be timid. If you’re going to do it, see it through to the end. Think about that arrogant and domineering brother of yours. He usurped your throne. Think about what will happen to you if he secures it!"

"Alright, then I’ll write the letters now. I’ll have the Proclamation Officer ride out tonight."

Robert took the parchment from Eric’s hand, picked up a nearby quill, dipped it in ink, and prepared to write.

The nib of the quill touched the parchment, but a long moment passed without a single stroke.

"What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?" Eric put a hand on Robert’s shoulder, ready to give him another pep talk.

"’Charter’... how do you write that in Latin again? It’s been so long I’ve forgotten." Robert laughed, scratching his head as he looked at Eric in embarrassment.

Eric: "..."

Eric tapped his own forehead with his fist, then took the parchment from Robert’s hand.

"Forget it, I’ll write it. I’ll make a template for you. Just have the Proclamation Officer fill in the details."

Eric sat in the seat opposite Robert, took the quill from his hand, and began to write quickly on the parchment.

The room fell silent, the only sound the scratching of the quill on parchment. Eric wrote with great speed.

"Eric, thank you."

"Thank me for what? Christ above, you’re the one who gave me this job. I should be the one thanking you."

Eric didn’t look up, speaking as he wrote.

Robert stood up.

"I wish you were my brother," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"What?"

"Nothing. In the next few days, I’ll arrange your knighting ceremony. You will receive the congratulations of all the Nobility of Normandy."