Reborn As Noble

Chapter 802: The Bellies and the Boardroom ( 802 )

”Alright, Buddy, Pikko... you’re both free to do anything. Just don’t cause trouble for the people.” Javier’s grin curled wider, his voice dropping into a sly whisper. ”well...for those trash...go wild.”

Buddy bobbed his massive head, beak snapping in excitement, wings flapping with such force that a few passersby stumbled back.

Pikko, beside him, tilted her head with dignified calm, her orange-silver feathers catching the sun.

Liana pinched the bridge of her nose. Her young master stood there, hands on his hips, whispering schemes to two monstrous birds as if they were his partners in crime. And worse, those birds looked like they understood every word.

”Cuquaaaawk!!” Buddy screeched, stomping the ground, his whole body quivering with anticipation.

”Alright, Buddy, Pikko...” Javier leaned closer, his smirk now stretching ear to ear.

”I’m going to have a date with Liana. You both know what to do.”

Buddy puffed his chest proudly, wings spread wide. Pikko lowered her head in a slow, graceful nod, her tail feathers twitching just enough to betray her interest.

Liana’s sigh was long and weary.

”Young Master... this feels like the start of a disaster.”

”Now, now, Liana... let’s have a date...” Javier’s lips curled into a playful smirk as he tugged her hand, leading her down the bustling avenue.

Liana shook her head, though the faint smile that touched her lips betrayed her resolve.

The capital was alive with banners, merchants shouting prices, and armored knights patrolling at every corner, but in this moment, she let herself focus only on the warmth of his hand around hers.

Just enjoy it, Liana, she told herself, her gaze lifting to the man walking beside her.

Your future husband chose to spend this day with you. As for the trouble his Pekkos might stir... leave it be. You already know how he is.

Her eyes lingered on him, sharp and composed even behind that lazy grin.

Meanwhile.

Several noble carriages rattled down the avenue, their polished crests gleaming in the sun. Inside, the lords lounged on cushioned seats, their bloated stomachs pressing against embroidered coats as they grinned from ear to ear.

Their carriages groaned under the weight of the crates and barrels now stacked inside—grain, fruit, wine, cloth, all of it paid for by another man’s coin, yet claimed as their own.

One noble plucked an apple from a sack at his feet, taking a noisy bite as juice dribbled down his chin. He laughed, spitting seeds carelessly onto the carpet.

”Armand wastes gold feeding peasants, and look how easily we reap the reward.”

Another adjusted the rings on his fat fingers, lips curling in satisfaction.

”Let him throw coin at merchants as much as he pleases. In the end, the supplies end up where they belong, filling our carriages, not the bellies of rabble.”

”It’s not like Count Armand could do anything,” one noble scoffed, wiping grease from his chin with an embroidered sleeve.

”Even with their so-called strength, he cannot touch us. If he dares, we’ll bring it before Duke Kimar.”

Another snorted, patting his swollen stomach.

”Exactly. The kingdom signed peace with Armand’s region after the war. Garius may have an army that makes others tremble, but he despises war. He won’t risk sparking another conflict over something as small as this.”

The nobles smirked among themselves, confident in their safety. To them, Garius’s restraint was weakness, a shield they could hide behind while indulging in greed.

The line of carriages slowed, wheels grinding against the cobblestones as the nobles spotted a richly adorned coach halting ahead.

”Oh?” one of them leaned forward at the window, his bloated cheeks jiggling with the motion. ”Looks like our dear Viscount Camair has stopped at a fine shop.”

Another noble adjusted his jeweled cane, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

”Perhaps this shop has something worth our coin, or worth less.”

The third noble chuckled darkly, waving for his driver to pull alongside.

”Indeed. Let us all step inside. Who knows? Perhaps we’ll find a few treasures to carry back... or at the very least, remind the merchants of proper respect when true lords visit.”

One by one, their carriages rolled to a stop near the storefront. Servants and private guards leapt down first, clearing space with the weight of steel at their hips. The nobles straightened their cloaks and jewelry, their steps heavy with arrogance as they moved to join Viscount Camair, laughter already echoing between them.

The moment Viscount Camair stepped through the door, his fingers trailed along a shelf, plucking up a bottle of fine wine as if it already belonged to him.

”We take this! And that!” he barked, his grin wide.

The merchant, wealthy, well-dressed, and accustomed to dealing with nobles, hurried forward with a respectful bow.

”Ah, your lordship~ Welcome to my humble shop. Please, do have a look. I will prepare the ledger for your purchases.”

But before he could finish, another noble was already tugging a bolt of silk free from its rack. ”Hmph. The weave is decent. Pack it.” He tossed it to his guard, who stuffed it into a crate without asking the price.

Another lord leaned over the counter, pointing at a polished box of jewelry. ”That too. And these trinkets. Quickly now!”

The merchant blinked, caught between disbelief and dread as more of his merchandise vanished. His lips twitched nervously, trying to form words. He had assumed, as any merchant would, that nobles of such rank would choose their goods and then pay in proper coin.

But their sly grins told a different story. Not one of them reached for a purse. Not one asked the cost. Their soldiers simply piled up goods, loading them without restraint.

”My lords... surely you intend to...” The merchant’s voice cracked under the weight of their arrogance. He forced a smile, though his hands trembled slightly at his sides. ”...to settle accounts before leaving?”

The nearest noble turned, his smile sharp as a blade.

”Settle accounts? We honor you by stepping foot in your shop. That should be enough.”

The merchant swallowed hard, forcing his expression into the smoothest mask of courtesy he could muster. He bowed slightly, clasping his hands together as his eyes followed another crate being hauled out the door.

”My lords... forgive my boldness,” he began, his tone careful, respectful, almost pleading.

”It gladdens me to see your esteemed selves finding value in my humble wares. Truly, it is an honor. Yet... ah...” His fingers twitched against his robes as he searched for the right words.

”...it is the way of trade, honored sirs, that even the finest customers settle accounts before the goods leave the shop. Surely your lordships would not wish my clerks to be confused when balancing the day’s records?”

He forced a light chuckle, bowing lower, as if trying to frame his request as a simple matter of routine rather than defiance.

But the nobles barely paused. One of them waved a jeweled hand dismissively, his lips curling into a smirk.

”Accounts, records... do not trouble us with such petty details. Consider it payment enough that men of our rank deem your goods worthy to take.”

Laughter followed, sharp and cruel, as another soldier carried out a bundle of silk. The merchant’s smile faltered, his bow stiffening under the weight of humiliation, but still he dared not speak too strongly, lest their mockery turn to wrath.

( End Of Chapter )