Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

After the meal, the servants removed the silverware and leftovers from the table and replaced them with dark walnut trays on which were placed several boxes of opened cigars and port wine.

New firewood was added to the fireplace, and the atmosphere in the living room was much more relaxed than at the dining table.

Baron Charles and Sir Ramsay sat on the sofa by the fireplace, chatting animatedly.

The cigar in the Baron's hand was covered in a long layer of ash, and he was listening intently to Ramsay's explanation of the geological formations. Ramsay's voice was lowered a few notches so as not to sound out of place in the living room, and his explanation elicited occasional smiles and nods from the Baron.

Richard stood by the window with his drink in hand. He noticed Godfrey staring at him hostilely, a large pipe between his fingers, his gaze piercing through the thin mist in front of him, like a confrontation before a battle.

Richard raised his glass towards him and walked toward him.

"The burden left by your brother is no light one," Richard said casually as he approached him.

Godfrey glanced at Richard, his hostility turning into wariness, and finally tinged with bitterness.

"He was the living saint of the family," Godfrey said in a hoarse voice, "the perfect successor to my father. His death changed everything."

Richard knew who Godfrey was talking about.

Charles Rodney Morgan, the eldest son of the Morgan family, was elected a Member of Parliament for Brecken at the age of 24. Baron Charles devoted all his efforts and resources to him, grooming him as the future flag bearer of the Morgan family.

Then, two years later, he died suddenly from an illness.

With the family having lost its heir, the Baron was forced to urgently recall his second son, Godfrey, from the Crimean battlefield.

Before receiving that telegram, Godfrey may have been riding his warhorse, facing the artillery fire of the Russian positions, launching fearless charges time and time again.

He was a soldier, not a politician, but now he had to sit in the Senate and deal with those old foxes, thrown into a completely unfamiliar world without any warning.

"I am deeply sorry," Richard said softly. "You should be galloping across the battlefield, an excellent soldier, but now you have to bury yourself in accounting and dine with those nobles in the House of Lords."

Godfrey took a puff of his pipe; the tobacco was glowing red-hot and crackling softly.

"I didn't have many choices," his voice came from behind the cloud of smoke. "This is family."

Suddenly, he changed the subject: "You certainly have many choices, Mr. Brian. You were well-prepared before coming here."

"What do you mean?" Richard shrugged.

Godfrey chuckled. "His only son, who returned from overseas, swallowed up the rival's factory in just one year. That's no luck."

“What surprises me most,” Godfrey said, looking at Richard with a meaningful look, “is that your reputation in high society comes from the Duke of Cambridge, who is known to be very stingy with praise.”

"It seems I'm not the only one who's prepared." Richard simply nodded modestly.

"I'm used to understanding my enemy before going into battle," Godfrey said, leaning back on the sofa with a pipe between his teeth.

"I am not your enemy," Richard said.

Godfrey scrutinized him again, his gaze cautious and focused.

"Then tell me," Godfrey said, taking the pipe out of his mouth and tapping it on the rim of the ashtray. "An arms dealer, instead of making guns, running off to the deep mountains to dig for stones. Could it be... some new invention?"

Richard paused slightly. Godfrey had a keen sense of smell; if that was the case, there was no need to beat around the bush.

"I hope to purchase the mining rights to Mount Lanelli from you," Richard stated his purpose.

"Ha," Godfrey chuckled, "you should have come thirty years ago, by then all that stuff would have been sold out."

"What's sold out are the mining rights for coal and iron ore," Richard said. "What I want to buy from you is something else."

"If you're not digging for coal and iron, what are you going to dig for?" Godfrey asked, somewhat puzzled.

“You said I’m a stone miner, so I’ll buy stones from you,” Richard explained, “but not ordinary stones, they’re dolomite.”

Godfrey was silent for a few seconds, Richard's suggestion quickly going through his mind, before he asked, "Then why should I sell it to you?"

"Because you've already sold it."

"What do you mean?" Godfrey's eyes narrowed.

"If you have time to take a walk around town, you'll hear some interesting rumors." Richard took a sip of his drink. "The Morgan family is planning to open a new mine. They've already secured a big contract and promised the workers substantial wages."

Godfrey's pupils contracted slightly.

"The workers' support will greatly help your brother's parliamentary election," Richard said. "What if the workers find out this is fake news..."

He didn't finish his sentence; he simply left a meaningful silence at the end.

Godfrey's mustache bristled, and he forced his voice through clenched teeth: "You dare force me to do business?"

Richard quickly put down his glass, feigning fear and trepidation.

"I didn't force you to do business!" he said. "It's a win-win situation. Your brother became a member of parliament, I found the stone, and facilitating this deal was also the will of Her Majesty's government."

At this point, he glanced in awe at the ceiling.

Godfrey pursed his lips, took a restless puff on his pipe, and used his other hand to rub his mustache, stroking it from root to tip.

"Furthermore," Richard added, "if I may be so bold, no matter what you've done, Mr. Morgan will only compare you to your brother. And in his eyes, you will never be as good as your brother."

He looked directly into Godfrey's eyes, watching his every move to be mindful of his words: "This deal is for the future of you and your brother Frederick; it will unite your brother with you."

Godfrey remained silent for a long time, until a piece of firewood in the fireplace snapped with a crack.

Then, Godfrey smirked and said, "For what you've said, I should have punched you in the jaw."

Richard bowed slightly: "Thank you for not doing that."

Godfrey relaxed his shoulders a little and exhaled a large smoke ring.

"Okay," he said, "but you've promised the workers high wages and jobs, so I'm taking the risk. Therefore, I should take the lion's share of the profits."

Richard felt a weight lifted from his heart, but he didn't show it on his face: "Of course, as long as the stone arrives on time, everything else is negotiable."

"That's settled then." Godfrey stood up. "You're staying tonight. We'll go hunting together tomorrow."

Hunting? Richard wasn't interested, but just as he was about to refuse, Godfrey was already in front of him, looking down at him.

"This is not a request, Mr. Brian."

He turned and walked toward the fireplace, sat down in the empty chair next to Ramsey, joined their conversation, and even crossed his legs.