131: Chapter 131 Your First Business Decision

The edges of the parchment were somewhat sharp, and as she gripped it tightly in her palm, it felt as if it were cutting into her skin—and cutting through every perception she had built up over the past eighteen years.

Ella took a deep breath. The scent in the study, a mix of old scrolls and a faint aroma of apples, gave her chaotic thoughts a momentary pause.

She could feel Levi's gaze; it was calm, yet like an invisible probe, scrutinizing every flicker of hesitation within her heart.

She couldn't just let herself be led by the nose like this.

Ella lifted her head, and a spark of royal majesty reignited in her violet eyes, even if that majesty seemed somewhat pale in the face of absolute practical interests.

"Fine, I accept this letter of appointment." Her voice wasn't loud, but she enunciated every word clearly, attempting to seize a small foothold for herself in this passive game of chess. "But I have one condition. I will temporarily fulfill the oversight duties, but the specific articles of association for this foundation, as well as the transaction details of every future asset, must undergo my review and final approval. I need to ensure that all of this still operates within the framework of Imperial Law."

She emphasized the words "Imperial Law" specifically; it was her final line of defense and what she considered her sturdiest shield.

A gentle smile appeared on Levi's face, as if he had long anticipated her reaction and even quite appreciated it.

"Of course, that is only right," he agreed succinctly, without the slightest bit of haggling.

This readiness, however, caused alarm bells to ring in Ella's heart.

Levi gave a slight nod to Evelyn beside him.

Evelyn then turned and took a neatly bound folder from a locked mahogany filing cabinet by the bookshelf, handing it to Ella with both hands.

"These are the 'Articles of Association for the Northern Army Aftermath Foundation' that we have drafted. Please review them, Your Highness." Evelyn's voice was steady as always, devoid of any emotion.

Ella took the document; the paper felt high-quality, thick and smooth to the touch.

She flipped to the first page and was immediately drawn in by the rigorous legal terminology and the precise logical structure within.

The entire document was filled with definitions of responsibility for asset custody, procedures for introducing third-party auditing institutions, principles for publicizing fund flows, and detailed explanations of fiduciary duties.

Every clause was written air-tight, even more detailed than the Imperial Code, filled with... a kind of cold, commercial rationality she had never encountered before.

It gave her an illusion, as if these articles were truly established for the sake of fairness and justice.

Her fingers flipped through the pages quickly until her gaze froze on Chapter Seven, Article Twenty-Three—'Regulator Authority'.

The preceding clauses granted her high levels of right to information and review, but the most crucial one stated: The Regulator holds the power of final veto over any single asset transaction under the foundation exceeding one thousand gold coins; however, regarding the foundation's daily operational strategies and long-term strategic development direction, the Regulator holds only the right to offer suggestions.

The final execution power for all strategic decisions belonged to the Foundation Board of Directors.

As for the composition of the Board... Ella's gaze quickly swept over the appendix, which read: The Board consists of three seats, namely the Lord of Blackstone Territory, the Supreme Commander of the Greystone Keep Garrison, and the Supreme Commander of the Ironthorn City Garrison.

A perfect closed loop.

She had the power to halt a specific transaction, but she couldn't stop them if they decided on a strategic direction like "packaging and selling all grain to the devil."

This veto power was like a rope tied to a bull's nose; she didn't have the final say on whether the bull went east or west. She could only pull hard when the bull was about to step into a small puddle, and that was it.

Just as Ella's attention was fully immersed in this textual trap, the grain merchant waiting outside was led in by an attendant.

He was a short, stout middle-aged man wearing a sophisticated deep purple velvet coat. His ten fingers were covered in various gemstone rings, and as he walked, the fat on his body trembled slightly.

As soon as he entered, he saw Princess Ella sitting beside the main seat.

He didn't look at Levi first, but walked straight to Ella and bowed with an exaggerated gesture, as humble as if he were having an audience with a Queen: "Oh, noble Princess Radiance! Your benevolence and fame are like the sun of the North, warming the hearts of us humble merchants! I am Cromwell, the current head of the Fat Frey Family. More than half of the grain business in the entire North is handled by my family."

Only then did Levi learn his name.

Cromwell, of the Fat Frey Family.

He silently noted this information, watching the other man's flawless performance.

Ella hadn't yet recovered from the shock of the articles, so she could only subconsciously maintain her royal composure and give a slight nod.

Cromwell immediately took advantage of the opening. He wiped non-existent sweat from his brow with his sleeve and said in a compassionate tone, "Your Highness, you must have come for the grain prices in the North! General Tiberius's liquidation was certainly gratifying, but it has also thrown the market into a panic. Now grain prices are skyrocketing. If this continues, I'm afraid people will starve to death before winter even arrives!"

He changed his tone, his face piling up with a "loyal" smile: "In response to Your Highness's benevolence, and to help the Lord stabilize the market, I am willing to represent the Fat Frey Family to purchase all the grain seized under the foundation at a price of seventy copper coins per picul! I guarantee that within three days, I can return the grain prices in all cities of the North to normal levels!"

Seventy copper coins?

Although Ella wasn't proficient in business, as a member of the royal family, she had received the finest education and knew the official guidance prices for various Imperial supplies like the back of her hand.

She remembered very clearly that even in a harvest year, the minimum protective price for the Imperial military's grain procurement was one hundred and twenty copper coins per picul!

"Mr. Cromwell," Ella's voice turned cold as she attempted to counter-attack using the knowledge system she was familiar with, "as far as I know, the official guidance price for first-grade winter wheat in the Empire is one hundred and twenty copper coins. Your price isn't even half the cost. This isn't called stabilizing the market; it's called looting a burning house!"

The fat on Cromwell's face twitched; he seemingly hadn't expected the Princess to be so well-informed.

But he immediately put on a wronged expression, spreading his hands so that his ring-covered fingers dazzled the eyes: "My Princess! You are talking about prices in times of peace! What time is it now? It's wartime! How high are the risks in wartime? I have to organize over a hundred merchant caravans and hire over a thousand mercenaries for escort. What if we're robbed by bandits on the road? Those are all risks! Then there's transport loss, moisture and rodent prevention costs for the warehouses, shrinking market expectations... these are all costs! By offering seventy copper coins, once I subtract all that, I'm just earning a bit of hard-earned money in the end. It's entirely for the sake of your honor that I'm contributing a bit to the stability of the North!"

A string of commercial jargon Ella had never heard of before struck like a dense rain of arrows, riddling her book-learned "official guidance price" theory with holes.

She opened her mouth but found herself completely unable to refute him.

Risk?

Loss?

Market expectations?

How were these ethereal things supposed to be quantified?

She had fallen completely into a blind spot in her knowledge, her face turning pale and then flushed.

A brief silence fell over the room.

A flash of smug contempt flickered in the depths of Cromwell's eyes.

At that moment, Levi, who had been silently peeling an apple, finally spoke.

He didn't even look at Cromwell, simply instructing Evelyn: "Evelyn, show Mr. Cromwell the five-year report on grain consumption in the North, as well as our current inventory list of seized goods and the letters of intent from potential buyers in the surrounding territories."

His tone was as flat as if he were saying "pour me a glass of water," but it caused the smile on Cromwell's face to freeze instantly.

Evelyn walked to the bookshelf and expertly pulled three files from three different folders, gently placing them on the coffee table in front of Cromwell.

The first was a graph of the total grain consumption, per capita consumption, and price fluctuation curves for every quarter and every region in the North over the past five years.

The data was detailed to an outrageous degree, even noting weather impact factors for different years.

The second was an inventory list of all the recently seized granaries.

The location of every warehouse, its capacity, the types of grain, and even the most recent storage date were written clearly.

The third was a list naming over a dozen grain giants from the South, and even a few buyers from the Dwarf Kingdom, along with the tentative acquisition prices they had proposed through various channels—the lowest of which was one hundred and thirty copper coins.

Cromwell's face went from frozen to ashen, and from ashen to deathly pale.

Cold sweat, real this time, broke out on his fat forehead.

The industry information barrier he took such pride in was like a sheet of transparent glass before this young Lord.

The other man's understanding of the market was even more thorough than his own, and he had been immersed in this trade for thirty years.

His so-called "risks" and "costs" became an utter joke in the face of this cold, precise data.

He understood now that he wasn't facing a princess who was ignorant of practical affairs and could be easily fooled, but a master manipulator who had placed the entire Northern market on a chessboard for precise calculation.

"Lord Levi..." Cromwell's voice was dry, and he no longer dared to look at Ella. "I... that was just a preliminary proposal just now. The price... the price can certainly be discussed further..."

"No need." Levi finally looked up, his gaze calmly fixed on him as if looking at an inanimate object. "The foundation has decided to sell this batch of grain through a public bidding process. Three days from now, the first auction will be held in Silvermoon City. If you are still interested, you can go back and prepare your gold coins."

Cromwell bowed clumsily and didn't even dare to say another word of pleasantry as he practically fled the room.

Silence returned to the study.

Ella watched the merchant's disappearing back and then looked at the three data reports on the table, a storm raging in her heart.

For the first time, she realized that numbers and information could possess such formidable power, sharper even than swords and authority.

As if nothing had happened, Levi pushed a new list along with a charcoal pencil gently toward Ella.

It was a drafted invitation list for the auction. The Fat Frey Family's name was prominently at the top, followed by over a dozen grain merchants of various sizes from the North.

"This is your first decision." Levi's voice sounded in her ear, calm yet carrying an undeniable guiding force. "Decide which merchants to invite and which not to. Remember, the order of this list will determine their mood when they walk into the auction hall, and it will also determine their psychological price point during the first round of bidding."

Ella's gaze fell on the list, her fingers hovering in mid-air, hesitating to descend.

She looked at those familiar yet strange family names and felt for the first time that what she held in her hand was no longer ethereal royal authority, but a business... one that required precise calculation, where every step could affect the livelihoods of millions.

Where should she make the first move in this business?

She didn't know.

But she knew that when she picked up this pencil and wrote down the first order, the Imperial Princess known as Ella Radiance would truly die.