Chapter 52

The winter snow still clung to the streets of Versailles as Lobsang Dhondup stood by the window of his residence, gazing at the distant palace walls. A month ago, he had arrived full of hope. Now, he would leave empty-handed.

"Chancellor, Prince Liam still refuses to see us," his aide murmured.

Lobsang's fingers tapped rhythmically against the windowsill. He had already investigated Liam Chamberlain's lucrative enterprises in secret. The workshops generating mountains of gold made his eyes burn with envy—especially the paper mill, rumored to produce sheets finer than those of the noble houses.

"Prepare my horse. I'll go myself."

At the gates of Windsor Palace, Marcus Valerius blocked his path with practiced courtesy. "His Highness is unwell and cannot receive guests."

Lobsang produced a flawless piece of mutton-fat jade from his sleeve. "Inform him the Bavarian envoy departs tomorrow and wishes to bid farewell."

Half a cup of tea later, he was finally admitted to the grand hall.

Liam reclined on a divan, idly turning a white jade chess piece between his fingers. "Must you be so persistent, Chancellor?"

"Your Highness jests." Lobsang's eyes swept the room—every furnishing a treasure, even the ambergris incense worth its weight in gold. "I've long admired your culture. Before leaving, I hoped to purchase some of your exquisite paper."

Liam chuckled and snapped the chess piece onto the board. "The eastern market has plenty of paper shops."

"Rumors say your mill uses unique techniques—"

"Chancellor." Liam sat up abruptly, his gaze sharp as a blade. "We're both men of the world. Did you think the Crown was unaware of the noble houses smuggling salt and iron to you?"

Lobsang's pulse jumped, but his expression remained smooth. "Your Highness misunderstands—"

"Enough!" Liam waved a hand. "I sold you grain at low prices precisely to cut off their profits. If you were wise, you'd know which alliance serves you better."

The air in the hall turned brittle.

Lobsang narrowed his eyes. "Your Highness isn't afraid of our armies—"

"Ha!" Liam's laughter cut him off. "Tens of thousands of soldiers? You can't even feed them without smuggling." He rose, looking down at the envoy. "Remember—in Versailles, even a dragon must coil and a tiger must crouch."

Lobsang's face darkened. He stood abruptly. "Prince Liam flaunts his power boldly! We shall see!"

"Don't trouble yourself to see him out." Liam flicked his fingers lazily. Only after Lobsang stormed away did he address Marcus emerging from behind the screen. "Have him watched. Ensure he doesn't cause trouble before leaving."

Marcus bowed but hesitated. "My lord, provoking him like this—"

Liam spun the chess piece on his fingertip. "I want him rattled. Men make mistakes when they're desperate."

Outside, the last rays of sunset painted Versailles' sky crimson.