The Youngest Prince Of The English Royalty House [EN]: Chapter 132

Aquitaine Grand Duke John (3)

In both my past and present lives, I’ve killed countless lives for the greater good without any ‘sentimentality.’ Yet, seeing my newborn son fills me with a father’s happiness.

“Wah!”

“Yes, I’m here, your father. Don’t just favor your mother.”

Hugging Louis, who is merely fussing and unaware of the world, makes me want to be a carefree father who doesn’t know the tiring realities of the world.

Of course, my wife slightly shattered my emotional moment.

“It’s only natural to prefer a pretty mother like me over a so-so handsome man like you.”

“I need to create a future where our youngest, Louis, can live in peace and leave him an inheritance that won’t make his brothers resentful….”

“Of course. Whose blood does our Louis have in him?”

Indeed, both Mary and I come from families with deep roots, so he has quite the lineage.

“Anyway, thank you for giving me such a reliable son. My Mary, my Hannah….”

“Hannah, that’s not a bad nickname.”

As time passed, after the infant baptism by Bishop Rotheire, people came one by one to congratulate me on the birth of my youngest son.

“Congratulations, Your Grace!”

“What a dignified young master.”

“Thank you all.”

I received visits from people who came to congratulate me on the birth of my youngest son, though they were really there to congratulate themselves on my behalf.

Clergy and nobles nearby, all influential figures, came to celebrate the birth of my youngest son.

Those influential figures who couldn’t come to my territory sent letters.

[Dear Prince John, how have you been? … excerpt … They say you are the father of three sons; do not become a father like Henry II or ‘me.’ ―Frederick I―]

Frederick I, my comrade who once shed blood and sweat with me, killing the Islamic bastards. I even took an arrow for him and saved his life, a touching bond.

But seeing the letter, I felt sorry for the old man.

As with any emperor… he’s having a hard time because he didn’t properly handle the succession. Fortunately, my kind brother-in-law, the Duke of Saxony, is considerate of the old man, so he hasn’t gotten sick from frustration.

He has ambition, but still, Richard and I are filial enough to let our father spend his remaining years in peace. But that German King (Crown Prince) Heinrich… doesn’t he know his father’s heart?

[To the Holy Roman Emperor… Still, isn’t it a better end than King David’s?]

He alluded to David, who was rebelled against by Absalom, but he was talking about our family situation. At least King Heinrich of Germany didn’t directly start a rebellion.

I wrote a suitable word of comfort to old man Frederick. Sigh… I hope he suffers a bit.

‘Next, are these letters from my parents?’

Letters also came from my father and mother. Of course, the couple’s letters didn’t come separately but as one. Along with words of joy at the birth of their youngest grandson.

[You must show love to your children. I leave these words with the same thought as your mother, so take them as proverbs.] It feels quite strange. What are these people really doing?

Letters also came from my sisters.

Since my half-sisters, who are much older than me, aren’t that close, there were only formal letters.

They just told me to diligently serve the Lord and live my life.

My eldest sister, Matilda, is busy because her husband is about to enter a civil war.

My youngest sister, Joan, wants investment to exploit the remaining Islamic forces following Spain.

Still, the one with at least a little conscience is my younger sister, Eleanor.

[John, unlike your other sisters, I haven’t forgotten your grace. To commemorate Louis’s birth, I have prepared a suitable gift.] My younger sister Eleanor sent jewels and silk clothes as gifts to show her gratitude.

A letter came from Richard, who now resides in Anjou.

[This winter will be warmer than last winter. But as warm as it is, the wolves will be after you. John, my brother. Now rely on me and prove to the world that you are a great noble of Anjou with your own power.]

Having been congratulated by so many people, I held a grand banquet to celebrate the birth of Louis, who would likely be my last child.

Of course, I also ordered the Earl of Hartford, who controls Ireland and Mortain in my stead, and the Amiens administrator to provide funds for the banquet.

After the banquet, I focused on managing the territory, and time flew by.

“Soon, I’ll be another year older.”

Now 1192 is coming to an end.

It’s been a tough year. Living in the dangerous Middle Ages, there have been many days where I almost died. But 1192 was also a safe zone for escaping crises. There were many hardships, especially the civil war.

Honestly, when I found out that Geoffrey had planned to bury me, the atmosphere was really scary.

I’m saying this now, but Geoffrey was genuinely planning to bury me before he was caught.

If I had been careless, I would have fallen off my horse or been imprisoned in the Tower of London, subjected to public ridicule. Frankly, even though I’m a reincarnator, fighting with my brothers born from the same womb wasn’t easy.

Not to mention the resources that were wasted through that pointless fight.

‘But even so, I eventually won.’

That’s what’s really important. I won. I became the victor, so I came from the backwater of Ireland to the advanced city of Aquitaine.

Winter in Aquitaine was special.

I enjoy the leisure of drinking the finest wine produced in Aquitaine with honey tea as a snack. Humans must work. Having controlled the Aquitaine vassals to some extent, I must now finish the work for those who will feel the cold.

“Your Grace, Lord Amiens requests entry.”

Aquitaine is a blessed land with a good production base and resources. The problem is that Henry had planned to consume all that abundance in war before starting the civil war.

“Let him in.”

Of course, as Aquitaine is Aquitaine for a reason, filling the coffers was also quick.

In the Middle East, there is my dear Masoud. That man is very close to me, and we often engage in intermediary trade.

Our kind infidel slave trader, Uncle Masoud, supplied new slaves through his subordinates.

“We have purchased new slaves.”

I read the documents handed over by the Amiens knight and smiled.

“Good.”

‘As expected, the Mongols have become strange; they even save people.’

I had expected it since the rise of the Holy Mongol Empire. It seems that the demand for slaves has increased. The Mongol bastards must have learned bad human trafficking from the Uyghurs [a Turkic ethnic group].

As a Christian, I can’t mercilessly kill people bigger than wagon wheels, so I make infidel slaves and sell them to the Middle East.

But I like it.

Among these slaves, there will be capable ones who will settle down.

Even if I exclude the lower-class infidel slaves for farming or Norman plowing [a method of plowing using a heavy wheeled plow]. I also have the expectation that there will occasionally be a ‘lottery’ like Akbulhui.

I’m done with the work to be done by Amiens, and other vassals also have work to do.

“Peter, provide compensation and jobs to the bereaved families of the fallen soldiers according to their merits. There will be more to develop in the future.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Don’t forget the hard work of those who fought for us, whether they received a salary or not.”

“I will finish it as soon as possible, and I will give more bonuses according to the performance of the work.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Lord Godfrey.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Slowly fill the gap of mercenaries whose contracts have expired this winter with a standing army.”

“But there is a budget problem.”

Unlike mercenaries who hire troops according to the contract period by paying hiring fees, standing armies can maintain constant troops, allowing for long training and customized utilization.

Of course, as standing armies are hidden cards in the Middle Ages for a reason, there are several problems.

The enormous maintenance cost of the standing army is a problem, but there must also be concerns that superiors will be uncomfortable with it. Of course, most of the problems have already been solved.

“My brother and the former king have allowed it. It is my standing army, but it will also be the royal guard. And my wife has agreed to support it.”

“I will follow the order.”

“Proceed.”

After finishing work, I returned to my room. It’s the room where Henry stayed. Perhaps that’s why I suddenly became emotional and missed Henry.

“Henry… why did you rashly start a civil war… to lose such good land.”

“Didn’t you pressure Prince Geoffrey?”

“But Henry was too hasty… or should I say he was too afraid of Richard?”

Mary said something strange next to me, but I shook my head. That’s the fact I feel.

He was too hasty. Of course, the power of Richard and I is also great, but Henry lost faster because he made political blunders.

While grieving for the family who left, a new family showed me affection.

“Papa!”

Is it because of the cute appearance of my youngest son, Louis? The cold winter became a little warmer.

Come to think of it, I think I know why Henry II loved me, the youngest. The youngest has a unique cuteness.

“Dad….”

“How can love change.”

Of course, the twin siblings who occupy the 2nd and 3rd spots looked at me with jealous eyes. I didn’t want to become a dysfunctional head of the family like my father, so I kindly told the children.

“There is no finger that doesn’t hurt when you bite among the ten fingers [meaning all children are loved equally].”

I mean that I won’t discriminate against my children like Jacob in the Bible, so that the beloved son is sold as a slave in Egypt.

Anyway, I spend more time playing with the twins than with Louis, who is still too weak to play much.

Of course, by squeezing out non-existent time.

Even in that short time, they are wary of their baby brother. Cute things.

‘Come to think of it… James, that guy, has grown up and plays with his peers, which is too sad.’

James is busy now. I guess it’s because he’s taking heir lessons.

* * *

―January 1, 1193―

1193 has arrived.

It’s already been 27 years since I reincarnated.

―Ding. Ding. Ding.

The New Year’s Mass ended with the sound of bells.

The new year has dawned.

“God, bless our Aquitaine territory.”

Rotheire, who was not only appointed as the Bishop of Aquitaine through the exchange of opinions with the Papal States, has now evolved into a cardinal. He has now become the minimum qualification to become Pope.

Even in the new year, I am busy. Because the history of Europe is flowing.

The Kingdom of Poland was slowly capturing half of the territory of Kievan Rus [a medieval state in Eastern Europe], surprising the world.

Prince John, who was selling weapons and military supplies to the Kingdom of Poland using the abundant farmland of Aquitaine, did not pay much attention to it.

Denmark and Sweden are already countries that I have no interest in. Because the Holy Roman Empire or the Eastern Roman Empire, which could have a diplomatic influence on Poland’s advance, were standing by.

Because Poland’s rise was not so bad for the countries that use the name ‘Rome’. Anyway, that’s how I see diplomacy.

When I focus on internal affairs again.

“Handle it.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

* * *

―March 1193, Aquitaine Territory―

Prince John outwardly spoke of peace and tried to focus on the internal affairs of the Aquitaine territory, and for that, vassals were doing various things behind the scenes.

“Die!”

―Swish.

“Survivors are not needed.”

―Phew.

“We don’t need rebels in our Aquitaine.”

After the disloyal and accumulated forces dared to target Safe Zone Prince, the Shadow Knights of Aquitaine are more splendidly searching out internal and external enemies.

The members under Robin, whose intuition is as good as an arrow, are shooting arrows in the dark today.

Of course, Robin is not the only one who is busy.

“Okay… I’ve been ordered, so let’s carry it out. The great admiral is going out!”

“Yes, Captain!”

“You have to call me Admiral ‘Magnificently Magnificent’ at times like this!”

“Yes, Admiral!”

The vanguard fleet of Aquitaine, which Prince John painstakingly raised, true pirate hunters spread their wings and set off on a new hunt.

“Now, let’s go eat the catch.”

―Squawk, squawk.

In the cool European sea.

The seagulls were making hot cries.