—
Having slept well after the whole ordeal and after delivering an improvised composition that had effectively changed the country's way of life, Gustave woke to find Cerys bringing him a tray of food.
His hands automatically moved upward so his maids could guide him to the bathroom and help him change; then he awkwardly lowered them, forgetting that he had already relieved his maids of their simple duties.
"Eh? What's happened to ye, Gustave? Are ye ill? Ye threw yer hands up like ye were possessed."
Slapping himself lightly to shake off the lingering demons of sleep, Gustave stood beside the bed for a couple of seconds. Then, turning to Cerys, he answered, "It's just that I'm not used to living without my maids."
"Hahahaha! Gustave still needs maids to help him go potty! Hahahaha!"
Twitching his eyebrows, Gustave straightened up. Now that he could act more freely, he took the tray of food from Cerys's hands and placed it on the bed before quickly grabbing two pillows. With one powerful swing, he smacked Cerys on the head, bellowing, "What did you say to me, woman?! Take that!"
Tuff, tuff, tuff.
"Stop it—that's not fair! Not fair at all! Ye've got a weapon!"
"Tsk. Here. Now we're equal—hiyah!!! Take this!"
"No—take this! I'll show ye how lads in Skellige fight!"
Tuff, tuff, tuff.
"You admit defeat?!"
"No! Never! I'll not lose to a Continentals!"
Tuff, tuff, tuff.
"Admit it!"
"No!"
"Tsk."
Throwing the pillows aside, Gustave looked at Cerys with contempt. "If this were an exchange with swords, I'd have beaten you many times over already."
Giggling mischievously with a look of triumph, Cerys shot back, "But it wasn't, was it? So, by rights, I didn't lose."
Looking at her oddly, Gustave exclaimed, "Is that really something a Skelliger ought to say? I feel like that excuse suits us better."
"Wait… yer right. Okay then, I admit—"
Shaking his head, a slowly wicked smile creeping onto his face, Gustave said, "No, it's okay. You don't need to admit you're losing. There's something else that'll make you accept it willingly. Like this!"
"Wait—wait, wait! Hahaha—stop! Stop, don't tickle me! Hahaha—no, no! Not like this! Hahaha—I yield, I yield!"
—
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cerys scooped up some of the oat porridge and tasted it herself. Pulling a disgusted face, she remarked, "Urgh… my mum only ever made me eat this when I was sick. And you Continentals have it every day. Does it not turn yer stomach?"
Knowing that Skelligans' staple diet consisted mostly of solid, hard-to-digest foods—due to their harsh environment and long-standing traditions—Gustave simply shook his head at Cerys.
Using another spoon, Gustave scooped some of the porridge, ate it, and answered her question. "No, it doesn't disgust me. We're just used to it. Different people, different places, different habits of eating and drinking."
Suddenly remembering that Gustave had not yet drunk blood, Cerys's eyes lit up, and she exposed her neck, wanting to taste that tingling sensation again. Turning to Gustave, she said, "Here! Drink from me again! I want to feel it, same as before!"
"Alright, alright—but don't get too addicted to it. It's bad for both you and me."
"Don't ye worry! Skelligans can hold their drink! A bit of drunkenness won't turn me into an addict! Ye'll see!"
Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Gustave simply lowered the dosage of the fizzy sensation even further. He knew infatuation was only good for stroking the ego. When it came to becoming a true partner—one who shared sorrow and happiness alike—infatuation could only go so far.
"Hmm… feels different from last time. Are ye sure ye're takin' my blood right, Gustave?"
Finishing the drink, Gustave told her, "Oh, don't worry. I just lowered the fizzy sensation by quite a bit. You said you wouldn't become addicted, right? Now let's see if that statement holds true."
Her chest heaving up and down, her hands itching, and a look of desperation on her face, Cerys shook her head at these strange emotions—feelings she had only heard about in rumors from the palace servants whenever fisstech was mentioned.
Pushing down the impulse to jump on Gustave and tug his hair just to get that sensation back, she finally calmed down after a couple of minutes.
Shivering as she looked up at Gustave, Cerys said, "Ye're right, Gustave. I've unknowingly become addicted."
Rubbing her head and patting her shoulders, Gustave replied, "I know. That's why I don't want you to become like that. Maybe from time to time—but not so often that it makes you rabid, always wanting more."
Nodding solemnly, Cerys suddenly remembered her friends back in Skellige. Her eyes lit up as she turned to Gustave, jumped to her feet, and said excitedly, "Gustave, Gustave! Come to Skellige! We can go divin' there! And—and we'll meet Ciri and the others! Let's surprise them, show 'em ye've already woken up!"
"Maybe later. I still need to take care of something in Rivia first. You go on ahead."
"Urgh! Ye're no fun at all, Gustave!"
Watching Cerys walk away toward the teleportation hub back to Skellige, Gustave chuckled and shouted after her, "Tell them I say hi!"
—
After seeing Cerys off at the teleportation hub, Gustave found himself in the palace's court garden.
Unlike Cintra, his mother's homeland, Lyria—and Rivia as a whole—held to the philosophy that it was better to discuss state matters in the open air, so as not to be easily wiped out if enemies planted bombs in the courtroom beforehand.
That was why matters of state were discussed in the palace's garden pavilion, where there were many paths and escape routes should discussions ever devolve into assassination attempts or bombings.
Although, since the reforms his mother had enacted over the past three years, there had been no further assassinations in the court gardens, it had still become tradition for court councils to use the gardens rather than enclosed rooms when discussing matters of the kingdom.
Walking into the pavilion, Gustave saw no nobles in sight—only officers drawn from educated peasants, their eager faces turned toward his mother with excitement for the future. Their expressions grew even brighter when they saw Gustave approach and take his seat at his mother's right side.
Although there were no nobles in the core councils of the Twin Realms, Gustave knew this did not mean his homeland was completely cut off from the nobility. Unlike in his modern world on Earth, nobles in this world were woven deeply into society.
That was why, alongside common-born officers, there were many respectable noblemen and noblewomen who had no involvement in the bandit-ridden, exploitative regions of the Twin Realms.
This was also why there was a clear distinction between the councils. The inner council was composed solely of common-born officials and members of the royal family.
The guest councils, by contrast, consisted mostly of noblemen, noblewomen, and merchants from Mahakam, Toussaint, Nazair, Cintra, Mag Turga—red-haired folk resembling those of DunBroch from the Brave films—and Aedirn.
The Aedirnian delegation, in particular, was closely gatekept by the Chapter, with Triss Merigold and three other mages who had once worked for Ortolan present on their side as little more than a "formality."
Because of these sorceresses and sorcerers, the Aedirnian delegates were visibly annoyed whenever negotiations were interrupted by mages who treated them like children incapable of conducting proper state business.
Unlike the southern delegations, which had not been ensnared by the Chapter's influence, the Northern kingdoms were largely manipulated by it. That was why Aedirn had become what it was now—conducting business here not in good faith, but as a pretense for political maneuvering, seeking to worm its way into the courts of Lyria and Rivia.
More precisely, it was not Aedirn as a whole, but Biruta Icarti, Axel Esparza, and Myles Trethevey, agents sent by the Chapter—parasites who likely sought to use his kingdom as a breeding ground for genetic monstrosities, much as they had in Season of Storms.
Because Gustave had no intention of allowing such mages—who would only become a hindrance—to even set foot in his kingdom, he would deal with them later. For now, his attention remained on the guest councils before him.
Many of them were effectively merchants, architects, bankers, and investors—people who wished to work together to turn the Twin Realms into a trade hub, taking advantage of the foundational framework his mother had already established to make the country a neutral center for the exchange of goods.
This was not merely about simple trade, but about exchanges worth tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of coins—the latter being their ultimate goal. That meant the Twin Realms would not only become a hub for merchants, but the official trade center for kingdoms and nations.
Gustave knew his mother had already found the answer: after the brief surge of tourism that had drawn attention to the country, the Twin Realms had to become a true trade hub if it was to survive. The problem was that, unlike Novigrad, which was directly connected to the sea, Lyria and Rivia lacked large waterways that linked them to the entire Continent.
It was only because Kreve's influence had created new rivers and waterways that this topic was even being considered. Had the Twin Realms remained as they once were, this discussion would likely never have taken place at all.
Moreover, if not for Alvin's Warden mages being present, the Aedirnian delegation—or, more accurately, the Chapter's envoys—would likely have already become a hindrance, dragging the talks into long, pointless discussions that led nowhere.
As the councils continued to go in circles over how to secure and accelerate trade—despite the redundancy of all routes needing to pass through Lyria and Rivia first—Gustave waited until the discussion had died down before presenting his solution: joint investment in Lyria and Rivia themselves, ensuring his words carried greater impact.
Not only would this joint investment streamline trade, but it would also shield his country from interference by the Chapter and by nobles across the Continent who did not wish to see Lyria and Rivia prosper unless it served their own interests.
Even though major figures of the Chapter—such as Vilgefortz, Tissaia, and council members like Sabrina and Philippa—had already been dealt with by Calanthe and Cintra, many of the Chapter's lesser minions did not.
That was why Gustave intended to draw in investors from the South to help build this trade hub alongside his country. Having already tasted the benefits of a modern, tourism-driven state, they were now able to glimpse a future of immense profit and economic growth—one rich enough to make them wealthier than ever before.
"So, does anyone have a solution? Regarding the swiftness and security of trade? If not… then I must beg your pardon, Enlightened Meve. Were it otherwise, we would gladly invest in your kingdom—though already teetering on the edge of ruin, it remains a perfect haven for merchants and the arts alike."
"It seems most redundant, though, to involve yet another third party, when our kings and queens might conduct affairs between themselves with greater efficiency. Sigh… I know, as a Toussaintois, that your land is the very dream for spreading our wines and artistic customs to the North. Yet when it comes to commerce… well, it is hardly so simple."
"Moreover, there is the matter of the Enlightened Lordship Duke Henry IV, who is less than pleased with Prince Gustave's actions in saving the rumored demon child, Princess Sylvia. It is, admittedly, a gamble on my part."
"And yet, as one with a true passion for artistry, I am eager to witness a land rivaling my beloved Toussaint—and so, I have consented to discuss these matters with you, Your Majesty, Queen Meve."
"If this is indeed a matter of official state business that demands forgoing passion for artistry, then—as I said before—I must risk smearing your name, just as the Duke wished us Toussaintois here to do."
Finally understanding why the Toussaintois noblewomen, noblemen, and merchants who came here did not succumb to the desire to push the Twin Realms to the brink of destruction with the bandits, as many Northern nobles might, Gustave realized that their passion for artistry outweighed the missions assigned to them by Syanna's parents.
That was why, instead of becoming enemies upon entering Lyria and Rivia with initial motivations to play dirty—despite their chivalric traditions—they became the very reason the Twin Realms were able to stay afloat.
The simple reason was that the people who enjoyed tourism in all its glory were not just from Nazair, but also from Toussaint, which had already matured into the first true tourism kingdom.
Now, knowing that in Toussaint the situation was reversed—where the monarch could be the enemy while the nobles were allies, unlike the rest of the North—Gustave decided to draw these Toussaint nobles closer. Doing so would make it far easier to eventually place Syanna on the throne of Toussaint.
"What if the boats and chariots were upgraded with metal enclosures to defend against attacks of any kind, whether magical or with arrows, without compromising travel speed? Would that satisfy you and make you consider investing in Lyria and Rivia? Not only—"
"Hmmph! Kid, don't throw around words of magic like it's a charlatan show! For someone with only one percent of the brain cells of the great Alzur, you don't—"
Ignoring Ortolan's worker-mule, Myles Trethevey, Gustave continued, interjecting past the old, six-inches-from-the-grave sorcerer.
"Not only that, ladies and gentlemen. If you are unconvinced that it could exist—which is understandable—then how about tomorrow? I will provide you with a miniature prototype by then, so that you, good sirs and ladies, can be assured that Lyria and Rivia can produce this transportation with ease. Sounds good?"
Seeing one of them poised to voice a skeptical question in the next instant, Gustave reassured them.
"And you don't need to worry about my failure. Unlike these three Ortolan worker-mules, who can only copy Alzur's and Idarran's creations with minor adjustments and claim them as their own—minds that hold not even one percent of their brilliance if not for their cheating gifts—"
"What did you say to me, boy?!"
"Not only that, I can not only copy but also improve upon their designs, standing on par with Ortolan's weapon creations and elixirs of immortality—things the Chapter has been gatekeeping for themselves, denying the rest of humanity. So, good sirs and ladies, aside from my prophetic abilities, you can trust my mind to make this happen."
"What did you say, you whelp?!!! Do you have any idea of the catastrophe—"
Knowing that any catastrophe would affect the Chapter, not him, Gustave ignored the Ortolan worker-mule and turned to the Toussaint nobleman he wished to befriend.
"Excuse me, Mister Bellesoleil de Tabris. I see in my vision that your daughter has been cursed by a witch, yet the mages have been unable to undo it. Is that correct?"
"I know this sounds ridiculous coming from a six-year-old child, but I can undo and heal your daughter completely, without any side effects. It is entirely your decision whether to believe me or not, Mister Bellesoleil."
Then, continuing on, Gustave addressed each delegation directly, striking at their hearts one by one, all while ignoring the Chapter sorcerers, who grew increasingly panicked with every tidbit of truth he revealed. These were secrets the Chapter had long gatekept from humanity, and now they were being exposed.
Only after Triss held their hands and told the three of them to sit down did they realize that he would not continue blabbering about the Chapter's secrets that he had learned from the books and games.
Finally, they understood that he did not seek mutual destruction, but simply wanted them to stay out of his way. He then continued speaking with the rest of the delegations—as if the earlier beef had never happened—while the delegations themselves watched the Chapter envoys with a mix of negative emotions.
—