Chapter 97: When the Emperor Asks About His Future Son-in-Law's Bank Balance

The royal garden of the Solaris Palace was filled with the clean scent of thousands of white rose bushes blooming under the midday sun.

Inside a white marble gazebo, there wasn't a single guard or attendant in sight.

Emperor Alaric de Solaris — a man carrying 4.8 billion Combat Power — had removed his heavy crown, wearing only simple royal silk robes, personally pouring a steaming stream of rose tea from a silver pot into the porcelain cup set in front of Lucian.

Lucian sat across from him, lifting the cup gently with both hands, carefully setting it back down on its saucer.

"Your Majesty pouring the tea himself — Vance Commerce doesn't dare accept such an honor."

Alaric set the teapot down, leaned back in his chair, and narrowed his sharp golden eyes at the ten-year-old in front of him. It wasn't the gaze of a monarch looking at a subject — it was the probing, appraising look of a father considering a distant, future dynastic partnership.

Alaric took a sip of tea, his voice warm.

"Lucian, what do you think of my daughter Eleanor? Beautiful, talented, and the legitimate heir to the Solaris throne."

Lucian rested his hands on his knees, straightening his posture, speaking with the flat calm of an investment consultant delivering a portfolio report.

"Your Majesty, from a purely financial analysis standpoint: Princess Eleanor is an asset with an extremely high market capitalization. She holds solid political credibility, exceptional military command capability, and outstanding reputational liquidity."

He paused for a beat, looking straight into the Emperor's eyes.

"However, the annual maintenance cost of this asset is quite steep. She spends thousands of gold a month on fresh flowers, knight-grade equipment, and premium tea service. Not to mention the political risk involved is highly volatile: assassination exposure, court power struggles, and potential civil conflict."

Lucian shook his head slightly and delivered his conclusion firmly.

"Per my financial optimization model: maintaining a Strategic Partnership between our two parties would yield a significantly better return on investment and capital security than pursuing a Full Corporate Merger — that is, any future marriage discussion. I propose we continue with our current commercial cooperation framework."

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SPLUTTER! COUGH! COUGH!

Emperor Alaric, mid-sip on his hot tea, choked violently, spraying tea across the stone table.

The Emperor, a man who'd single-handedly suppressed three border uprisings, was now coughing hard, hurriedly wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, staring wide-eyed at the ten-year-old across from him.

"You damn merchant brat... did you just compare my First Princess to a corporate merger deal?!"

CRACK.

Behind the white rose trellis, five meters from the gazebo, the sharp snap of a broken branch rang out.

Eleanor, hiding behind the rose bushes, eavesdropping the entire time, gripped a thorny rose stem in her white silk-gloved hand so hard it snapped, the thorns digging into the fabric with a creaking sound.

She ground her teeth and muttered under her breath.

"That damn man... calling me a 'high-maintenance-cost asset'?! You're dead tonight!"

Ting!

A dim black Unified System v2.0 notification appeared before Lucian.

[SYSTEM HAS DETECTED A DANGEROUS FLUCTUATION]

• Emperor Alaric's damage output if enraged: Sufficient to slice off half a mountain of the royal palace.
• Emperor's restraint: inferred as high from his controlled mana, observed conduct, and the current economic context.

Alaric wiped the tea off his robes and stared at Lucian's completely calm, fearless expression for a full ten seconds.

Then, suddenly, the Emperor threw his head back and burst into booming laughter, shaking the rose branches across the entire garden.

Alaric stood, walked around the tea table, and clapped Lucian hard on the shoulder.

"Excellent! I admire that fearless merchant's mouth of yours! I've ruled for thirty years — every noble who's come to me has knelt and groveled, begging to marry the princess. You're the only one who's sat there calculating my daughter's maintenance costs like she's merchandise!"

Alaric leaned down, bringing his mouth close to Lucian's ear, his smile carrying a cold, threatening edge.

"I'll allow the two of you to freely get to know each other and 'do business.' But remember this well: if you ever make my precious daughter shed a single tear... not even your father the Sword Emperor's blade will be able to save your little life."

On the honor corridor overlooking the royal garden, four royal attendants carrying trays of fruit spotted the Emperor laughing and clapping Lucian on the shoulder, and immediately covered their mouths, whispering.

"Did you see that... His Majesty the Emperor just personally approved a possible future dynastic match involving the young master of House Vance!"

News of Emperor Alaric's interest in a possible future dynastic match spread quickly through the palace's back channels, reaching straight to the ears of the Duke of Valois, sitting in his southern estate.

Ten minutes later.

Lucian, briefcase in hand, walked through the Palace's Golden Gate, letting out a long, relieved breath.

"Escaped that one... good thing I scared the old man off with a cost-benefit spreadsheet."

He'd just stepped up onto the running board of the armored carriage waiting by the road when the carriage suddenly shuddered.

Click.

The door on the other side swung open.

Eleanor, in her Student Council President's uniform, was already sitting inside — had been for who knows how long. She sat with her arms crossed, golden hair loose over her shoulders, a smile as bright as sunlight on her lips, but her blue eyes cold as twin daggers.

She tilted her head, looking at Lucian frozen stiff at the carriage door, and spoke sweetly.

"Hello, Chairman Vance... Shall we sit down and discuss my 'annual maintenance costs' in a bit more detail?"