The mont Arthur announced he would give away the blueprints for the Linotype and the printing press, the banquet hall was plunged into stunned silence.
For a heartbeat, ti itself seed to freeze. Then, the room erupted.
Nobles turned to one another, their wide-eyed gazes filled with shock. Hushed whispers swelled into a rising tide of murmurs. So leaned forward as if to confirm they had heard correctly, while others remained frozen, struggling to grasp the full weight of what had just been declared.
A noble near the head of the table finally found his voice, his tone laced with disbelief. "Your Majesty… are you truly giving it away?"
Arthur t his gaze with an unwavering expression. "Yes," he said, letting the word hang in the air for a mont. "However, not everyone will receive the blueprint."
Another wave of murmurs rippled through the hall. Eyes sharpened with curiosity. So nobles sat straighter, sensing an opportunity, while others frowned, wary of what was to co.
Before the questions could overwhelm the room, Arthur raised a hand for silence and continued, his voice asured and firm. "I will not be distributing the blueprint freely—at least not yet. Instead, I will be granting exclusive rights to manufacture and sell both printing press and the Linotype."
Duke Richard furrowed his brows, his interest piqued. "What exactly do you an by ’the right to sell’?"
Arthur took a slow sip of his wine, letting the anticipation stretch just a little longer. Then, he placed the goblet down and t the Duke’s gaze.
"The Linotype is unlike any other machine," Arthur began, his voice steady, carrying through the hall. "Its construction requires specialized knowledge, skilled craftsn, and strict oversight. More importantly, I do not intend to release the blueprint freely—at least, not yet. Instead, I wish to control its production for a limited ti to ensure its proper use and refinent."
He let the weight of his words settle before continuing. "Those who are granted the right to sell will first send their most trusted workers to . Here, they will be trained in the construction of the Linotype under my craftsn for a set period—let’s say, two years. During this ti, they will build the machines under my oversight, and you, as their patron, will have exclusive rights to sell or use the machines they produce."
A hushed silence fell over the room as the nobles absorbed his words. Arthur’s eyes swept over them before delivering the final condition.
"In return," he said, "I will take 75% of the profits generated from the sales of these machines during the agreent period." A murmur of surprise swept through the hall, but Arthur was not finished. "After the agreed ti ends, your workers will return to you with the full knowledge of how to construct and function the Linotype. From that mont forward, you will be free to produce the machines yourselves and keep 90% of the profit—after taxes, of course."
The hall remained silent for a long mont. So nobles were already weighing the risks and rewards in their minds. Others looked to Arthur with newfound respect—or unease.
Then, at last, another voice broke the quiet.
"And what assurance do we have that this arrangent will be fair?" one lord asked, his tone cautious.
Arthur leaned back slightly, his lips curling into a knowing smile.
Arthur held the noble’s gaze, his expression unwavering. "Fairness," he repeated, his voice calm but firm. "You speak as though I am offering a gamble. But what I am offering is an opportunity—one that no one else in history has ever had."
He let his words sink in before continuing. "However, I understand your concerns. That is why each agreent will be written as a magic contract and sealed with the crown’s authority. Every participant will know exactly what they are investing in and what they will gain."
A few nobles exchanged glances, the initial skepticism giving way to careful calculation. Arthur could see the gears turning in their minds—so saw profit, others saw power, and a few, he suspected, saw sothing even greater.
At last, Duke Richard spoke, his tone asured but filled with curiosity. "Your Majesty, who will you be granting these rights to? And how many will receive them?"
Arthur allowed a knowing smile to cross his lips. He let the question linger in the air just long enough to heighten their anticipation before answering.
"That depends," he said, his voice steady. "As of now, I have three candidates in mind. They will be the first to receive the exclusive rights to manufacture and sell the Linotype."
"But," Arthur continued, his gaze sweeping across the room, "if they refuse my offer, I will not hesitate to choose others. This is an opportunity, not an entitlent."
Duke Richard studied Arthur for a long mont before nodding. "And when will you announce these nas?"
Arthur took a sip of his wine, savoring the mont. Then, he placed the goblet down and answered,
"I will reveal them now."
Arthur let the anticipation build, his gaze sweeping across the assembled nobles. He could feel their eagerness, their barely restrained impatience. Then, with deliberate calm, he spoke.
"The first," he said, "is Marquis Edmund Wycliffe."
A murmur spread through the hall as heads turned toward the noble in question. Marquis Wycliffe was known for his vast estates, his military prowess, and, most notably, his keen interest in trade and innovation. He sat up straighter, his expression unreadable, but Arthur could see the flicker of intrigue in his eyes.
"The second," Arthur continued, "is Marquis Lionel Ainsworth."
If Wycliffe was a man of discipline and strategy, Ainsworth was his opposite—a noble renowned for his shrewd business acun and deep connections with rchants across the continent. So had called him a gambler, willing to take risks others would never dare.
Another ripple of whispers swept through the room, but Arthur was not finished. He let the nobles speculate for a brief mont before delivering the final na.
"And the third," he said, his voice carrying with quiet authority, "is Master Reginald Hawthorne."
This ti, the reaction was different. So nobles stiffened in surprise. Others frowned, clearly displeased. Hawthorne was no noble—he was the most powerful rchant in the kingdom, a man whose influence rivaled even so of the lords seated at the table. His vast trading network stretched across borders, making him an indispensable force in comrce.
Marquis Wycliffe and Marquis Ainsworth remained silent, their expressions carefully neutral, but all eyes turned to Hawthorne. The rchant did not react with shock or arrogance. Instead, he gave Arthur a slow, knowing nod—a silent acknowledgnt of the trust and opportunity he had just been granted.
Arthur clasped his hands together, his gaze sweeping across the hall. "These three will be granted the first rights to sell and distribute the Linotype," he declared. "And the reason I have chosen them is simple: they have contributed the most to this kingdom."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the room, but Arthur pressed on, his voice firm. "They are the highest taxpayers, the most generous benefactors, and the ones who have consistently invested in the prosperity of this realm. Their dedication has not gone unnoticed."
So nobles nodded in understanding, while others stiffened, bristling at the implications. Yet before resentnt could take root, Arthur continued, his tone unwavering but laced with subtle promise.
"However, let make one thing clear—this is not the only opportunity. There will be more innovations, more advancents, and more chances for those who are willing to prove themselves."
He let his words hang in the air, giving them ti to sink in. "The world is changing, and those who wish to rise must be prepared to embrace that change."
The nobles exchanged glances, so thoughtful, others determined. The room buzzed with the realization that tonight was just the beginning of sothing far greater.
However, Arthur’s decision to choose them wasn’t based solely on their contributions to the kingdom, although that certainly played a role. In truth, Arthur had an ulterior motive—one rooted in strategy. Despite the two powerful dukes already on his side, he knew that securing alliances with influential marquises and a powerful rchant would strengthen his position even further. These three n, with their wealth, influence, and resources, were the perfect candidates to beco his close allies.
Arthur’s eyes scanned the room, feeling the weight of the mont. Choosing to sell the rights to the Linotype and eventually the blueprint wasn’t just a matter of generosity—it was a matter of profit. He could manufacture the machines himself, but to do so would require an enormous investnt. To mass-produce the Linotype, he would need more than 300 workers, all laboring tirelessly for months. The ti and costs involved would be astronomical.
But by granting the rights to sell, Arthur had found a far more efficient solution. He would save vast amounts of gold, not having to bear the burden of building and staffing a massive factory. Instead, by allowing his allies to invest in their own workers, Arthur could maintain control of the process while minimizing his own risk. Not only would he avoid the cost of labor, but the inco taxes from their workers would flow into his coffers as well, creating a new, steady source of revenue.
And the best part? Even if they sold the machines, Arthur would still profit through taxes on each sale. The system was ingenious—by allowing others to carry the burden of production, he could reap the rewards without the cost, all while securing the loyalty of the kingdom’s elite.
Arthur allowed himself a small, satisfied smile before addressing the room once more. "Now, enough talk—let us enjoy the banquet. Wycliffe, Ainsworth, and Hawthorne, please remain after the feast so we can finalize the terms and determine whether you will accept."
All three nodded in agreent. Though so guests were slightly disappointed at not being chosen, they quickly set their feelings aside and resud enjoying the banquet.
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