Chapter 10: Grandmother Mia Is a Passionate Educator

Back at Saint-Noel, ten days had passed after Mia had pontificated during the entrance ceremony about bread and cake. Currently, she was in the library. Was it to look for relevant information that might aid Cyril in his wheat research? No, it was not. She was here to help Bel study.

“I doubt I’ll have much time this summer, so we need to start preparing early for your exams. It’s time for you to do some serious studying.” She was now fully aware of Bel’s questionable academic performance, so she crossed her arms and hardened her heart. Sympathy would not do Bel any good right now.

“Oooooh,” Bel groaned as she pouted with her chin on the table. “Miss Mia has turned into the homework police. There’s still so much time left until the exams...”

“You do realize I get reports from Lynsha, right? You’ve been slacking off recently again, haven’t you?”

“But what is all this studying good for, Miss Mia? Is it useful?” asked Bel, her eyes turned upward toward Mia.

“Of course it is!” Mia declared with chest-puffing confidence. “If you do good in your studies, one day, you’ll be able to give that smug four-eyes an earful— Uh, I mean, go to your academically enthusiastic vassals and get back at them fo— Gah! Look, what I mean is that you’ll be able to impress people, okay? It’ll feel really good.”

Fortunately for Mia, despite her honest thoughts leaking out multiple times, Bel was too busy pouting to notice.

“Reaaaally? Will it really be useful?” she muttered as she reluctantly flipped open her textbook and started reading it.

To her side, Mia set down her own book. Titled Hundred Mushroom Delicacies, it was a collection of exotic mushroom recipes from around the world. The author was a renowned adventurer known for his famous motto: “Poisonous mushrooms: if they don’t kill you, then you can eat ’em!” In other words, he was pretty nuts.

Mia flipped open this crazy man’s book with a pensive look. Really though. What should I do?

She couldn’t help but worry. Not about which recipe to make, of course. The source of her concern was Bel. Mia was a reasonable person, after all. Between mushrooms and her granddaughter’s future, the latter mattered more. Just barely though.

Both her dislike of studying and her wasteful spending habits are, at the end of the day, a product of her “I might disappear at any moment” attitude toward life. Her defeatism is ultimately the problem. The fact that Bel thought this way was certainly deserving of sympathy. Mia wasn’t heartless; she felt for the girl. But I can’t just let her keep frittering away money like this. The guillotine is never far behind... If I’m not careful, it’ll catch up before I know it!

In her head was a vision of a bipedal guillotine running toward her in the distance, and every gold coin she squandered caused it to dash forward a hundred steps. Tearmoon’s guillotine in particular was known for the speed and length of its stride. She knew that from experience. One way or another, she needed to talk Bel out of her habits.

Besides, if Bel is going to continue living in this world, she needs an education. I have to push her to put some more effort into her studies somehow... Granted, if I talked to father, I can probably get him to grant her a peerage and some land. That does seem like it’d be enough to let her live a pretty comfortable life...

But she’d never actually say that out loud. Moons know the girl didn’t need any more excuses not to study. In general, Mia was pretty tolerant toward slacking off, whether it was her or someone else engaged in said activity. When it came to her granddaughter though, for some reason, she just couldn’t let it slide.

I’d be letting down Bel’s mom if I did that... And Bel’s mom is my daughter.

Grandmother Mia was a passionate educator.

“Miss Mia, I don’t get this part.”

“Moons, Bel. All right, which part? Let me see.”

Bel slid her textbook toward Mia, who picked it up.

“Hm.”

A period of throaty contemplation followed.

“Hmmm.”

Then, a period of temple-tapping.

Mia pushed her brain to work harder. Needless to say, Mia’s approach to studying was winning through sheer numbers. Of material memorized, that is. In general, she tried to cram everything testable into her head. Unsurprisingly, this kind of memorization had a fairly short shelf life. Not long after the test was over, most of it would be completely gone. Further complicating things was the fact that Bel was currently studying arithmetic, which was one of Mia’s weaker subjects.

Anne... Where’s Anne?

Before she knew it, Mia found herself looking for her trusty consultant, but the sight of Bel’s glimmering, expectant eyes gave her pause. The unspoken message embedded in those eyes was clear: “Wow, I can’t wait to see how the esteemed Great Sage of the Empire solves this problem!”

“Hm...”

She went back to making thinking noises. Given the circumstances, having Anne solve it instead was simply not an option. She redoubled her book-staring efforts.

No problem. I can do this. With a memory like mine, I can surely...

That’s right. There were some things that Mia simply did not forget. She might forget the endless pages of insipid information she memorized before exams, but never knowledge that was crucial to her survival...and never humiliation that she’d suffered in the past!

I swear that stupid four-eyes had taught me this at some point! What did he say again? Something about how arithmetic is necessary for making deals... Right, that was when we...

If a piece of knowledge could be used as payback against Ludwig, she retained it by doggedly writing it into her diary over and over with a vindictive passion. She hammered that stuff into her head.

“Remember this well, Bel. When it comes to questions like these, there will almost always be sample questions next to it. So, you should look at how the sample questions are solved and then apply that to...”

She proceeded to rip off Ludwig almost word-for-word. It was educational plagiarism. And she’d achieved it through what was admittedly an incredible feat of memorization. In doing so, she looked every bit the wise teacher withholding the answer to encourage her pupil to think for herself. The difference was that wise teachers usually knew the answer. Mia only looked the part. If her pupil legitimately couldn’t figure it out, no answer would be forthcoming. Still, she was pretty good at looking the part, so that’s something!

“When someone teaches you something, there’s no point just memorizing what they said. You have to think about it and understand the principles behind it,” said the person who was literally regurgitating stuff she’d memorized without a shred of comprehension.

“Wow, Grandmother Mia’s advice is always so deep! Okay, I’ll try to figure it out on my own!” said Bel with an earnest nod before taking back her textbook for another attempt.

Mia breathed out a sigh and looked up, at which point she noticed the figure of Chloe with her head down in front of a bookshelf.

“My, Chloe. You’re back?”

Forkroad & Co.’s merchant caravan happened to be passing near Saint-Noel, so Chloe had left the island for a while to see her father. Eager to talk to a friend she hadn’t seen for a few days, Mia greeted her with a pleasant smile.

“Is Sir Marc— Rather, is your father doing well?”

Chloe didn’t respond. She remained still with her head down. Wondering if she didn’t hear, Mia got up and walked over.

“...Chloe?”

“Oh! P-Princess Mia...”

This time, Chloe noticed. She turned to face Mia, who promptly frowned at her friend’s deeply troubled look.

“Chloe? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong...”

“That is not the face of someone with nothing wrong. What’s with the hesitation? We’re book buddies, aren’t we? You can be frank with me.” Mia took Chloe’s hands in hers. “Let’s head to my room first, shall we? I think I have some sweets there...”

“Oh, Miss Mia, I can go! Leave it to me! I’ll head to the kitchen and have them prepare something!” exclaimed Bel, who eagerly shot up from her seat and dashed out of the library.

Never let it be said that Bel was slow of wit. She seized opportunities as soon as they reared their heads.

Mia pulled Chloe into her room. Inside, they found Anne with a dust cloth in one hand, still in the middle of cleaning.

“Anne, sorry to barge in while you’re still cleaning, but Chloe and I are going to have a tea party right now. You can take a break.”

“Oh, okay, milady. Then I’ll go prepare the tea—”

“No need. Bel’s off at the cafeteria fetching it as we speak—”

“I’m back, Miss Mia!” Bel returned right on cue. The sweet smell of hot chocolate wafted from the cups on the tray she held—five cups, to be exact.

“Oh, Bel, I told you tea is fine... Also, five cups? There was just you, me, and Chloe. Why the extras? Did you get some for Anne and Lynsha?”

Anne happened to be here in the room, but Lynsha was not. Mia tilted her head quizzically at the number of cups. Bel grinned.

“The extra one is for my refill, of course!” Bel declared without a lick of shame.

“Bel...” One of the side effects of F.A.T. was jiggliness of the flesh between the shoulder and elbow, so Mia waited for Bel to set the tray down on the table before pinching the girl’s upper arm. “Wait, what?!” Her jaw dropped. The jiggliness...wasn’t there! She quickly tried her own arm. It was clearly jigglier than Bel’s. Such injustice! Refusing to believe the world could be so unfair, she tried again on Bel. To her profound dismay, it only confirmed her previous finding.

“U-Um... Miss Mia? What are you doing?”

“Huh? O-Oh, uh, nothing. Don’t mind me. By the way, Bel, are you...exercising or something? When I’m not watching?”

“Huh? Uh... I’m doing the dance practices you taught me. Does that count?”

“Ah... Right. Well, we should start doing those together again. It’s about time I took another look to make sure you’re practicing properly.”

“Okay.”

After that unnecessarily roundabout excuse, Mia turned to Chloe. “Anyway, enough digressing. What’s bothering you, Chloe?”

Still hesitant, Chloe looked at Mia’s face, then down at the cup in her own hands. She said nothing. Mia let out a short sigh and placed a hand on her chest.

“You’re my friend, Chloe,” she said with a reassuring smile. “And a very precious one at that. If something’s on your mind, I’d like to know. Besides, I can’t even enjoy this wonderful cup of hot chocolate when you look so down.” The veracity of her latter claim notwithstanding, she continued. “I believe an important part of friendship is being frank with each other. So if you think of me as a friend too, then please, talk to me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“P-Princess Mia... Oooh...” Chloe let out a quiet whimper. Like a crack in a dam, it quickly led to an outburst of emotion as her expression twisted with distress. Tears welled behind her glasses. Soon, they were streaming down her face.

“Hm...” Mia nodded as she took out a handkerchief and walked over. “Here. Use this. It’s okay.”

She handed the handkerchief to Chloe and gently patted her back. In that moment, she looked every bit a saint, patient and considerate. Only for that moment though.

“I-I’m so sorry, Princess Mia... I-It’s my father. He... He collapsed and...”

“Huh?” When she pieced together the implications of Chloe’s sobbing confession, Mia froze. Her saintly smile vanished instantly. “Wha— Wait, you can’t be— Huh? Your father? Y-You mean...Sir Marco? He...collapsed?”

Mia almost collapsed on the spot too. And for good reason. Chloe’s father, Marco Forkroad, was the head of Forkroad & Co. With provisions looking ever less sufficient, their company was very literally a lifeline for the empire. If it snapped, it would doubtlessly give Ganudos an opening to maneuver against the empire. There was no way they’d let a chance like that slip by.

Crunch... Crackle... Crunch...

The sound of something approaching echoed in her ears. She spun around, only to see a vision of a cliff...and the unmistakable wooden frame of a guillotine climbing up its precipice toward her.

Eeeeek! No, no, no, no! This is not good!

A sheen of cold sweat formed on her back. She took a long sip of hot chocolate and exhaled. It helped calm her. Then, she fixed Chloe with a serious look.

“Please, tell me the details. What happened?”

Chloe held her gaze for a second, then nodded. “We’re actually being attacked by another company. In a business sense, I mean.”

She proceeded to tell her story. Someone had mounted an all-out offensive against Forkroad & Co., targeting all the companies that had business relations with them. This someone...was the wealthy merchant Shalloak Cornrogue. As an aggressively hostile competitor, he’d used his commercial clout to destroy every single trade channel the Forkroads managed. In response, Marco ended up working day and night trying to find a way out of this desperate situation, but ultimately succumbed to exhaustion.

“U-Unforgivable. How dare he pick a fight with Chloe’s father...” muttered Mia through gritted teeth.

She was visibly shaking with anger at the sheer nerve of this thug of a merchant. Forkroad & Co. had a pivotal role to play in helping the empire survive the famine. In fact, their role had only gotten more pivotal after Mia’s big bold promise during the entrance ceremony. With wheat reserves looking worryingly inadequate with this newly inflated demand, she absolutely could not afford to have the Forkroads tap out.

Ugh, merciful moons, this famine is already a code-G situation. I do not need more problems right now. Who is this punk picking a fight with me?

That’s right... Right now, throwing a punch at Forkroad & Co. was equivalent to throwing a punch at Mia herself. Code-G (for guillotine) was no joke. She was not going to take this sitting down.

“Thank you, Chloe,” she said with an encouraging nod. “And good for you. I’m glad you talked to me about this, because you came to the right person. I’ll handle it.”

“Princess Mia...”

“Let’s see... First, I should have a chat with Ludwig. I don’t know about merchants, but I’m pretty sure he’s from a merchant family. He should have some good ideas about how to deal with this situation,” Mia murmured. Then, a sinister grin spread across her lips. “Oho ho... Whoever this fellow is...he’s going to regret picking a fight with me!”

The day after hearing Chloe’s story, Mia promptly began writing a message to Ludwig. “He’s probably busy with a lot of stuff, but it’s definitely better to have him here.” Having decided that this was a class one emergency, she called for her trustiest idea man.

“Hmm... That reminds me. Ludwig was Bel’s teacher, wasn’t he? I should ask him to give her some arithmetic lessons too. He’ll be here for a while anyway. Maybe he’ll figure out a good way to teach her.”

So, she added “please assist in educating Bel” as an additional instruction to her summons and sent it out. Again, Grandmother Mia was a passionate educator.

Afterward, she prepared to leave the island and headed for the town where Chloe said the Forkroad caravan was parked to make a personal visit to her father. As luck would have it, Marco would be resting there for a while. If Mia wanted to speak to him, now was the time.

As she was leaving, Bel asked, “Um, Miss Mia, can I go too?”

“My, why would you want to do that? I doubt anything interesting is going to happen.”

“I want to be there when your heroic feats save the day! That’s the kind of thing I’d remember my whole life. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

“I highly doubt there will be any swinging, much less hero-ing...but hm, let me think...”

Mia crossed her arms.

Arithmetic and merchants go hand in hand. If she got a good look at actual merchants, maybe it’ll motivate her to study more!

Grandmother Mia’s passion for education knew no bounds.

“All right then. You’re coming along.”

So, they left as a pair and headed for the town where the Forkroads were staying.

“Lord almighty, Your Highness... What are you— You didn’t have to...”

Marco Forkroad’s eyes went wide when Mia stepped into his inn room. He hastily tried to get up from his bed, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“I’m glad to see that you’re recovering,” she said with a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“You heard from my daughter, then? My deepest apologies,” Marco said, lowering his head, “but it’s really not that serious. I just worked myself a little too hard. Nothing that would merit a personal visit from Your Highness.”

“Enough with the modesty, Sir Marco. I’m here because I want to be. Your importance to the empire cannot be understated. You are quite literally our lifeline,” she replied. Then, her smile grew a little more playful. “Besides, you happen to be the father of a very dear book buddy of mine. If you’re not well, then I can’t enjoy my discussion sessions with her, and that’s no fun at all.”

“Your Highness...” Marco bowed deeply toward her. “Your kindness is deeply appreciated.”

“If there’s anything I can do for you, please tell me. I’m here to help.”

“It...really isn’t that much of a concern, Your Highness. I’m just dealing with some business difficulties.”

“I heard someone’s trying to sabotage you, though. Were you attacked? Did they resort to violence? Don’t tell me they hired bandits or something...”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” said Marco, hastily shaking his head.

Mia regarded him with a puzzled frown.

Just then... “Sir Marco, Her Highness is a wise and perceptive person. I strongly believe that it would be to your benefit to describe the particulars of your company’s current situation.” A familiar voice floated into the room. Mia turned to find the figure of her loyal subject in the doorway.

“Ah, Ludwig. I’m glad you made it,” she said in a delighted voice. She was starting to feel like she wouldn’t make any progress with Marco alone, so knowing that her cavalry had arrived was deeply reassuring.

“I’m terribly sorry to have made you wait, Your Highness.” Ludwig bent at the waist in a deep bow. Then, he turned to Marco. “Now then... Should you find it difficult to speak frankly about the details of your business, it may be easier for me to state my inferences instead, in which case I ask that you simply listen for the moment.”

He put a finger to his glasses.

“First, allow me to clear up a misconception that Her Highness just mentioned. While conflict between merchants may at times involve the hiring of bandits and direct acts of violence, it is not at all a common occurrence. When it comes to large companies like Forkroad & Co., it’s practically unheard of.”

Mia tilted her head. “My, is that so?”

“Yes, because clear wrongdoing will be punished accordingly. The victim of a criminal act has the right to request government intervention. Furthermore, large-scale companies tend to have defensive measures in place. Direct violence is therefore a poor approach that not only incurs great risk but is also easily thwarted.”

“I see. That makes sense.”

“Merchants have channels of attack that are unique to their field. Let me think of an example... Ah, an easy one to understand would be striking at a rival through market competition by excessively lowering prices,” Ludwig said as he adjusted his glasses.

His explanation elicited a pained grimace from Marco.

“Huh? Lowering prices?” asked a puzzled Bel.

Ludwig glanced at her and chuckled. “I see that was too difficult a concept for Miss Bel to grasp. Hm...” He pondered in silence for some time before continuing. “How about this then? Miss Bel, imagine that you see two pastry items being sold. They taste the same and are the same size, but one costs one copper while the other costs two. Which would you buy?”

“Huh? Well, the one that costs one copper, I guess.”

“Correct. As a customer, that is the natural conclusion. You would buy the cheaper one. That is why, by lowering your prices below that of an enemy merchant and making people buy your products instead of theirs, you can impair their business. This is a basic technique in the world of merchant warfare.”

For a bit of perspective, what Ludwig spoke of was common sense. Even Mia understood what he was talking about.

“When this technique is taken to malicious extremes, it’s possible to completely disregard profit margins altogether and sell products at unreasonably low prices. Something acquired for one silver can, for example, be sold for one copper.”

“Huh? But what’s the point of doing that? You’d just be losing money.”

Ludwig shook his head gravely. “The point—and it’s a very good point—is that a wealthy merchant with enough financial muscle can crush all his rivals...and monopolize the market.”

While Ludwig was giving Bel his Business 101 lecture, Mia munched on the sweets Marco had set out. Hm... I’ve never seen this kind before. I wonder if he obtained these overseas? This black paste seems to be made from beans, and there’s this...refreshingly sweet taste to it. I feel like this would go really well with some cream.

Clearly, Mia the Sweets Connoisseur hadn’t lost her touch.

“And once he establishes a monopoly, meaning he’s the only one selling the product in question,” Ludwig continued, “he’s free to set the price as he pleases. It can’t be bought anywhere else, after all. He can make it as expensive as he wants.”

“Oh, I get it now!” Bel clapped her hands together in a moment of understanding. Ludwig’s careful explanation had borne fruit. Nevertheless, he glanced at Mia for confirmation.

“Mmm...”

Seeing that she was nodding contently while nibbling on a sweet, Ludwig exhaled with relief, figuring she was satisfied by his performance. I see. She saw a learning opportunity in this situation for Miss Bel and wished to take advantage of it.

Her message to him requesting his presence had included the line: “Please assist in educating Bel.” Presumably, she wanted Bel to learn how to deal with merchants.

Ludwig continued his explanation. “In this particular case, however, I suspect the objective is not to monopolize the market but to mount a direct attack against your company. Furthermore, the method being employed is—if I were to guess—a hijacking of Forkroad & Co.’s market through severe undercutting. Am I correct?”

Marco slumped a little and shook his head in surrender. “I see it’s no use trying to hide anything from you. But how did you know? Was it truly that obvious?”

Ludwig smirked. “My apologies. I may have indulged in a bit of showmanship. In truth, there’s a piece of information that aided me in my reasoning.” He turned to Mia. “I was contacted by Shalloak Cornrogue with a request to terminate our business relationship with Forkroad and sign a new contract with his company.” He then produced a letter from his pocket and handed it to her. “The details are written here, but in short, he’s offering to transport wheat at larger volumes and lower prices than Forkroad.”

In other words, Shalloak was making it clear that his antagonism was toward Forkroad and not the empire. The conditions he was offering were quite generous as well—enough to make terminating Forkroad’s contract a viable alternative. That alone was reason for caution.

If something sounds too good to be true, it usually is, Ludwig thought. Moreover, the crux of this offer is an attempt to make us break faith with Forkroad. Chances are, Her Highness will refuse to partake in such a betraying act.

And that was exactly why the offer impressed Ludwig. It was exceedingly cunning. By severely undercutting all of Forkroad’s products on the market—even if it did result in significant losses—Shalloak had effectively choked off the company’s entire business. Forkroad couldn’t sell anything right now...except for one item—wheat. Specifically, the wheat that was supposed to be delivered directly to Tearmoon. With profits plummeting and demand for wheat so high, could Forkroad resist the urge to touch the empire-bound supply? By selling the wheat to other buyers for more than the contract-stated price, the company might yet survive. All it would require was some deception. If Forkroad were to succumb to temptation and violate their promise...they’d be the ones who broke faith first, thereby giving the empire a perfect excuse to terminate their contract.

Fortunately, Sir Marco has held true to his word. The contract remains unbreached, which allows Her Highness to repay his loyalty in good faith. It was the knowledge of Marco’s fidelity that led Ludwig to divulge the contents of Shalloak’s letter to him.

“Interesting... Hm, Cornrogue?” said Mia quizzically as she read over the letter. “Well, I do wonder...”

The sight of Mia’s pursed-lip contemplation led Marco to rise in a panic. “Y-Your Highness, that’s—”

“Please, Sir Marco,” she said, calmly gesturing for him to sit back down. “Relax. I’m not going to betray my book buddy for money. It’s just that this Shalloak fellow... His last name is Cornrogue, is it?”

Her meditative voice prompted Ludwig to ask, “Have you heard of him before, Your Highness?”

Mia’s gaze grew distant. “I...certainly have. I remember him very well. The Merchant King, Cornrogue. I thought it’d be a little while longer before he showed up... So he’s coming to me, is he? Oho ho...” She grinned like a child planning a prank. “Oh, on that note, Ludwig, since the Forkroads are being harassed right now, isn’t there anything we can do to help? Have the empire buy up the goods they have in stock, for example.”

The fact of the matter was that Shalloak Cornrogue wasn’t picking a fight with the empire. He was ultimately just fighting a pricing war with Forkroad & Co. The most the empire could do to help, then, was to purchase Forkroad’s dead inventory.

“Good question. Let me think...” said Ludwig. His mind worked furiously as he tried to determine the correct answer—not the answer to whether a buyout was appropriate, but what Mia had actually meant by asking this question.

As if leading him on, Mia continued. “Or would buying leftover goods from a company just because the owner is my friend’s father be a form of wasteful spending? Am I going to get scolded if I buy things at a higher price when they can be gotten cheaper somewhere else?”

She glanced up at Ludwig. Her probing expression confirmed to him that his guess was correct. As I thought, Her Highness has already made up her mind on what to do. These questions are entirely performative. She’s simply going through the motions right now to educate Miss Bel.

He nodded back at her with a knowing look and said, “I see no issue in doing so. Even if cheaper products exist elsewhere, so long as the price of the more expensive item is appropriate, then purchasing it would not be wasteful spending.”

“Really? Why is that, Professor Ludwig? Can you teach me? Please?” Bel looked up at him with pleading eyes.

As expected, that had gotten Bel’s attention. He smiled with satisfaction at her curious expression and answered, “Of course I will. There is no need to plead. Let me see... How should I explain this? Hm... The belief that everything is better when it’s cheaper is, in my opinion, a mistake. The reason for this is that money is compensation for labor. In other words, it represents the value of that labor.”

“‘The value of labor’?” Bel parroted.

Ludwig nodded deeply. “Behind every item a merchant sells is the work of someone who made it. Crops come from farmers. Craftwork, from artisans. Cuisine, from chefs. They’re all the product of labor. The act of putting a price on a product is therefore the process of valuing the labor that went into it.”

The increasing complexity of the topic pulled Bel’s brows up into a frown. It was apparent that she was having trouble following the logic...yet it was also apparent that she was still trying. The sight of her face scrunched up into an expression of intense mental effort was endearing, and Ludwig couldn’t help but smile.

“Merchants must therefore price their products in a way that respects the labor behind it. The way I see it, selling things too cheaply devalues labor, and henceforth insults the effort of those who made it.”

While explaining his point, Ludwig’s smile grew wry. He remembered how his own father used to lecture him about the same thing. Merchants must not lower prices beyond the limit of their own capabilities. Doing so just to compete with a rival merchant does a great disservice to the producers of their goods... It’s just as he said. It made him recognize anew the truth contained in his father’s words. He turned to the visibly ruminating Bel.

“The injury of such behavior extends beyond the psychological. There is physical harm done as well. For example, suppose there is a merchant who took cookies that cost two silver to make and sold them for one silver. He would end up with a deficit of one silver, but it might be worth the loss to draw more customers to him. However, now that he’s doing this, what would other merchants think? They’d be losing their customers to him. Would they also lower their price to one silver to draw them back?”

Bel, listening intently with her face scrunched up in concentration, answered frankly, “Yes, I think they would.”

“It seems plausible, doesn’t it? But actually, it’s likely that no one else would be willing to sell at a loss. They would try to lower the price though. How? By asking the ones who made the product to work harder. The merchants would go to their cookie supplier and claim that the cookies won’t sell for two silvers, so they need to be made cheap enough to sell for one silver. In order to compete with the first merchant, the other merchants would try to devalue the labor of craftsmen.”

“I see... Does that mean that merchants who ask craftsmen to do unreasonable things are bad people?”

“That’s certainly true, but I believe that irresponsible customers who purchase cheap goods without giving the price any thought are also partially responsible. The frustrating part—and what makes this a particularly difficult dilemma—is that laborers prefer lower-priced goods as well. They receive wages for their work, then use those wages to buy things, making them customers. By seeking out cheap products, they end up diminishing the value of their own labor.”

Ludwig paused to allow his explanation to sink in. Then, he continued again. “That’s why, in my personal opinion, between a merchant who prices his products appropriately and one whose prices are excessively low, the former is more trustworthy. Merchants lower prices because customers find more value in cheap products, but one should not blindly pursue the lowest-costing choice. What customers should recognize is that this world is not so convenient as to allow them to value their own labor highly while devaluing that of everyone else.”

Finally, he turned to Mia.

“Therefore, I believe it’s appropriate to go ahead with the purchase you speak of, so long as it does not include any luxury items with no utility or unreasonably expensive goods. It will also help mitigate any distorting effects on the circulation of money.”

After nodding in satisfaction at Ludwig’s impromptu thesis on market dynamics, Mia shifted her gaze toward Marco Forkroad. “And there you have it, Sir Marco. We shall purchase your remaining inventory at the appropriate market price. If the empire has difficulty producing the funds, hm... Well, I’ll just ask some of my friends for assistance. There’s no need to lower your prices excessively just because they’re leftovers. Let us deal in good faith and mutual respect.”

With that, she smiled.