The reception hall of Viscount Gordon's mansion.
Ron and Viscount Gordon sat opposite each other. Several maids stood quietly along the sides, ready to serve at any time. Veronica, as Ron's personal maid, stood dutifully behind him.
Viscount Gordon began warmly, "I've already written to my two children in the Royal Capital, informing them about you. When you arrive, they'll arrange your accommodations. If you encounter any difficulties, you may contact them directly—or write to me."
Ron didn't refuse the offer and expressed his thanks.
Viscount Gordon had only one wife, and two legitimate children: his eldest son, Michelle Gordon, heir to the viscountcy, and his eldest daughter, Marina Gordon. The siblings were just a year apart and were both currently studying at the Noble Academy in the Royal Capital.
Viscount Gordon chuckled. "You're only one or two years younger than my children. Michelle will graduate next year. He'll return to learn how to manage the territory. Soon enough, everything here will be handed to him."
Men in their middle years either bragged about their careers or their children.
Ron smiled politely and listened.
"If you were also studying at the Noble Academy, I would've asked Michelle to take care of you. Unfortunately…" Viscount Gordon sighed, clearly regretting Ron had never attended school in the Royal Capital.
This puzzled Ron as well. Apparently, the original Ron had never once left the Arnold Territory—not even to study.
Viscount Gordon seemed to know the full story, so Ron seized the chance to probe.
He sighed softly, adopting a melancholic expression. "Uncle… I've always regretted never going to the Royal Capital. It's a lifelong regret I still carry."
Viscount Gordon's expression grew pained. "Child… don't blame your parents."
Ron's mind raced as countless theories formed.
Political enemies?
Unstable situation in the Capital?
Neglect?
Disfavor?
However, Viscount Gordon continued, "You've been managing the Arnold Territory yourself now—you must've noticed. The finances have always been terrible. The debts were only cleared a few years ago. There simply wasn't enough to send you to school."
Ron froze.
He had considered many possibilities.
Not once did he imagine the reason was—
Being too poor.
I… am the poor one?!
For a moment, Ron felt his worldview crack.
A noble too poor to attend school?
He resisted the urge to ask whether this information had spread far enough to require silencing witnesses.
Viscount Gordon continued, guilt heavy in his voice, "My own territory had financial troubles at the time as well, so I couldn't help. By the time the situation improved… you had already passed the enrollment age."
Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. "That wasn't your fault. I'm grateful you still remember this matter, Uncle."
"Good child. Truly a good child." Viscount Gordon patted his knee, relieved.
"Oh—how much is the tuition at the Noble Academy, anyway?" Ron asked, still unwilling to believe poverty was the obstacle.
Gordon answered without hesitation, "It's not expensive. Just one to two thousand gold coins a year."
Ron fell silent.
One to two thousand gold coins?
That's not expensive?
Irene's family fruit stand would need to work for five hundred years to afford a single year's tuition.
Viscount Gordon chuckled. "But in the Royal Capital, the real expenses are elsewhere. You'll understand when you arrive."
After that, their topics shifted from one to another.
Eventually, Ron casually asked, "Uncle, are you perhaps… a mage?"
He remembered the [Water Magic Affinity] trait shown on the character card.
"Oh? You can tell?" Viscount Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Michelle takes after me. He studies water magic at the academy."
Ron sighed with admiration. "Those with magical talent are one in ten thousand. Michelle is very fortunate. I wonder if I have any magic talent…"
Of course, he deliberately set up the question.
Viscount Gordon shook his head. "When you were born, your father brought you to me for testing. Unfortunately, you had no magical talent."
Ron had expected this answer.
But Viscount Gordon added, "Perhaps the testing tools back then were outdated. The Magic Tower has since developed more advanced devices. When you reach the Royal Capital, visit the Magic Department at the Noble Academy. I'll write a recommendation letter so they can test you again."
Ron nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Uncle."
Evening Banquet
The dinner banquet was lavish.
Ron met Viscount Gordon's wife—Tiffany Gordon.
Her elegance and noble bearing matched every stereotype Ron had of a Western noblewoman. No wonder Gordon had only one wife—she seemed flawless.
"Baron Arnold, welcome to our home," she said warmly.
"It was presumptuous of me to visit. Thank you for your hospitality," Ron replied.
Tiffany didn't speak often, but whenever she did, the atmosphere immediately warmed. Ron instantly understood—this Viscountess was the true social backbone of the household.
A capable husband.
A charming wife.
Children with magical talent.
Ron sighed inwardly.
Viscount Gordon is indeed blessed.
He remembered the viscount's second trait:
[Many Children, Many Blessings (Green)]
He hadn't checked the details yet, but the meaning seemed obvious enough.
The banquet ended smoothly. Tiffany soon excused herself, but Viscount Gordon pulled Ron aside again, eager to continue their conversation.
Ron silently thought that Irene and the Viscountess would get along quite well—they shared the same kind of social finesse.
Suddenly, Viscount Gordon's expression grew serious.
"I nearly forgot to tell you something important."
Ron straightened.
"This investiture will follow standard procedures and should go smoothly. But there is one thing you must be wary of."
Ron focused immediately.
"The primary purpose of your investiture is to reassess Arnold Territory's tax quota. That is the real reason you must travel to the Royal Capital."
Ron frowned. "Taxes?"
Viscount Gordon explained, "During your investiture, someone will take the opportunity to push for higher taxes on your territory. It's not just the King—many ministers want a share of the benefits."
Ron nodded slowly.
A warning: do not blame the royal family too quickly.
There were other hands in the shadows.
"You don't need to worry too much," Gordon continued. "Let them raise it however they want. Just agree to everything. Everything can be settled after you receive the investiture document."
Ron's eyes lit up. "Uncle, do you have a strategy in mind? Please explain in detail."
Viscount Gordon smiled mysteriously.
Instead of answering, he asked,
"Do you know the difference between an Honorary Peerage and a Fiefdom Peerage?"
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