Kingdombuilding: All My Inventions Are Novelty

The soldiers standing outside the prefecture office were silent.

Their armor was immaculate. Their weapons were held at the ready, and their cold, disciplined expressions made the atmosphere around the building feel heavier with every passing moment.

Alonso felt a faint chill run down his spine.

He had expected the young Prince to question him; but he had not expected the prince’s first words to carry such obvious hostility.

Was Simon preparing to avenge Prince Valeric, or was this merely an attempt to test him?

Alonso carefully suppressed his unease.

"Your Highness," he said cautiously, "the conflict with Prince Valeric was not started by us. He had long intended to monopolize maritime trade. We merely protected our interests."

A cold smile appeared on Simon’s face.

"Ambassador, we can discuss that inside."

He turned toward the prefecture office.

"I know your Dutch people quite well."

Rhodes froze for half a second. Then he followed.

***

Inside the prefecture office, both sides took their seats. As several guards brought tea before quietly withdrawing.

Simon picked up his cup and took a small sip.

Alonso remained alert.

He had negotiated with kings, governors, merchants, and military commanders across many regions. Normally, he was skilled at reading his opponent.

But the young man sitting before him was different; there was no nervousness in Simon’s expression. It was as though he already knew everything Alonso was going to say.

Simon placed the cup down.

"You currently have fewer than twenty warships operating in the East

Alonso’s fingers tightened beneath the table.

"Split Rock and Funky Town serve as your primary supply points in this region. On Split Rock, you established two fortifications—one in the north and another in the south."

Simon’s eyes remained fixed on him.

"You claim to have ten thousand troops stationed there. But only roughly three thousand are genuine Dutch soldiers. The rest are locals of Split Rock and of course, the heired Red wolves, right?"

Alonso’s face changed.

For the first time since entering Ashenford, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.

"How..."

He stopped himself.

Simon calmly answered his unspoken question.

"Yes. I have people watching you."

Alonso’s heart sank.

"You are spying on us?"

Simon smiled.

"You spy on us. Why shouldn’t I spy on you?"

Alonso was speechless. His mind racing.

The information Simon possessed was far too detailed to be obtained through ordinary rumors. The Dutch had always relied on secrecy to maintain their advantage in foreign lands. Their military strength, supply routes, troop numbers, and alliances were carefully guarded.

Yet this young prince had exposed them one after another.

Alonso suddenly realized something. The greatest danger was not the weapons outside. It was the man sitting across from him.

Simon leaned back.

"Now tell me. Why did you come to Ashenford?"

Alonso swallowed.

"We came with the intention of establishing a long-term foreign trade relationship with the Empire. We also hope to find reliable partners in this region."

"Foreign trade?"

Simon’s smile disappeared.

"You bombard our merchant ships, interfere with our maritime routes, and attempt to control trade along our coast. And you call that foreign trade?" His voice became colder.

Alonso struggled to respond.

"Your Highness, I believe there has been a misunderstanding. We only attacked merchant ships belonging to Prince Valeric. We had no intention of...

"I know your kind."

Simon interrupted him.

Alonso fell silent.

"You Dutchmen are no strangers to bloodshed. You slaughter natives in the Americas. You transport slaves from Africa. You seize spices, resources, and trade routes across the South."

Alonso’s expression became increasingly ugly.

"Wherever you go, commerce follows the cannon."

Simon leaned forward.

"And now those cannons have been pointed at my doorstep"

Alonso stared at him.

Simon continued.

"You saw that the Eldorian Empire was divided and assumed it was weak. You believed you could force your trade rules upon us."

He paused.

"But you made one mistake. You thought everyone here was blind."

Alonso’s face went pale.

"How do you know about America and Africa?"

The question escaped him before he could stop himself. He had spoken with countless officials throughout the empire, and most knew almost nothing about the lands beyond their borders.

Yet Simon spoke about distant continents as though he had personally studied them.

How could he possibly know these things?

Simon gave him a faint smile.

"I don’t merely know about America and Africa."

His eyes narrowed.

"I know where your homeland is."

Alonso stared at him.

"The Dutch lies between France and England. You Dutchmen must have had a difficult time surviving between those two."

Alonso’s face stiffened. For a moment, he could not speak. The psychological advantage he had possessed when he first arrived had completely disappeared.

The unknown was frightening.

And now Prince Simon had made himself the unknown.

Alonso finally lowered his voice.

"Your Highness, please believe that our intentions are sincere. We truly wish to establish peaceful trade relations."

Simon said nothing.

He knew exactly what the Dutch meant by peaceful trade. In this era, trade followed military power; merchant ship was protected by a warship, trading post was protected by a fortress, treaty was protected by cannons.

And wherever the Dutch could not enforce their terms through commerce, they would enforce them through force.

The truth of the age was brutally simple.

Simon slowly raised three fingers.

"You want trade?" He asked.

Alonso nodded cautiously.

"Then I will give you trade."

Alonso’s eyes brightened slightly.

"But on my terms."

His first finger rose.

"First. Withdraw from Split Rock and return it to the empire. Secondly, all maritime trade routes in the East will fall under the authority of the empire, and thirdly, Ashenford will be the only port through which you may conduct official trade with the Empire."

Simon lowered his hand.

"Accept these three conditions, and we can discuss trade."

Alonso stared at him as though he had just heard something absurd.

Then he slammed his hand against the table.

"Impossible! Never!"

His face flushed with anger. For centuries, the Europeans had dictated terms to weaker nations. They established trading posts, demanded privileges, and controlled ports. They forced local rulers to accept their rule; never had the situation been reversed so completely.

Yet now a young prince was telling the Dutch exactly where they could trade, which waters they could enter, and which territories they had to surrender.

Alonso shook his head.

"We cannot accept these conditions."

Simon remained expressionless.

While Alonso continued.

"Especially Split Rock."

His voice became harder.

"Split Rock is under Dutch control. We have invested heavily in its fortifications and administration. You cannot simply demand that we surrender it."

Simon’s eyes became cold.

"You are mistaken."

Hearing this Alonso frowned.

"Split Rock belongs to the empire, yet you occupied it, established military fortification there, and stationed soldiers. And now you claim the land belongs to you?"

Simon leaned forward.

"That is not trade."

Alonso clenched his jaw.

"Your Highness, you cannot expect us to surrender territory simply because you say it belongs to you."

"I can," Simon said calmly.

Alonso’s face darkened.

"We will not agree to any of your three demands."

Simon’s expression finally changed. His eyes became as cold as ice.

"Split Rock belongs to the empire. Whether you like it or nothing, you will give it up."

Every word carried weight.

Alonso suddenly felt the pressure in the room increase.

But he refused to retreat. He stood up in anger.

"I believe there is nothing more for us to discuss."

He turned around.

"As you wish." Simon did not attempt to stop him. His expression was completely calm.

"Split Rock must be returned. The maritime routes must be reclaimed. And Ashenford will be the gateway for your trade with the Empire, What must be must be.,

He looked directly into Alonso’s eyes.

"If you cannot accept those conditions, then there is nothing left to negotiate."

Alonso gave a cold snort, as he walked out.

His attendants followed quickly behind him.

Only then did Benjamin speak.

"Your Highness, these foreigners understand power but not virtue. Negotiation will accomplish little. War may be the only language they understand."

Benjamin glanced toward the city walls. His expression was grim.

Simon nodded slowly.

He had already considered that possibility.

The Dutch had come looking for a trading partner.

Instead, they had encountered a ruler who intended to control the rules of the entire game, as it should be.