Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 690: Chapter 391: The Art of Negotiation (Part 3)

Sorel’s breath hitched, his heart seemingly gripped by an invisible hand.

Because this matter should remain unknown to anyone.

Besides himself and Duke Raymond, this true allegiance had never appeared in any document, any secret message, or any conversation.

The knowledgeable nobility in the Imperial Capital believed him to be the Second Prince’s person, and the Second Prince never doubted it.

This identity was buried deeply in shadows, unknown even to the knights accompanying him.

Normally, a young lord far in the Northern Territory couldn’t possibly point it out directly.

Yet Louis simply said it lightly, dissecting him as if he could see him through to his bones.

Guessing, perhaps? He comforted himself this way.

But fear still rushed up his spine instantly, like being seen suddenly in the dark.

Louis didn’t stop. It was as if he continued down a thread he had long grasped, his tone even carrying a hint of concern:

"You’re running tirelessly for the duke’s sake, for your child recuperating in the monastery, aren’t you?

The little girl named Ellie... The gray scale sickness has entered the second stage, right? The duke promised you a rare alchemy potion as a reward."

Sorel’s breath was instantly choked.

He froze in his chair, as if drained of strength from within.

Why?

How did he know?

Sorel didn’t even know which part of his fear was most potent.

Was it because the secret was revealed?

Or because Louis’s tone was too calm, as though he had everything investigated without the slightest hostility?

Sorel looked at Louis’s young face, as if seeing a giant eye lurking in the darkness.

This person wasn’t a remote lord; he was a devil.

Not only did he know Duke Raymond’s private accounts, but he held even his most secret, most untouchable vulnerability.

Ellie was his only child, the entirety left by his late wife.

He wouldn’t let anyone near, let alone let outsiders know.

Yet before this young nobleman, he was completely transparent.

Moreover, Louis’s tone wasn’t threatening him. Louis was caring for him.

Louis didn’t seize the opportunity to coerce; he just gently opened a drawer, taking out a slender glass bottle.

The bottle had a pale green body, sealed with silver wax at the mouth, its liquid slightly glowing under the light.

Louis placed the bottle on the table, sliding it toward Sorel.

"The potion the duke gives you can only suppress the illness." His tone remained steady, "It won’t cure her. You know, that so-called treasure is ineffective for the second stage of gray scale sickness. This is a potion developed by the Red Tide, effective in curing this type of gray scale sickness within ten years."

Sorel stared at the potion, his pupils slightly contracting, as if in disbelief.

In fact, this formula wasn’t something Red Tide extrapolated out of thin air.

A month ago, when Sorel stepped into the Northern Territory, Louis had learned of Sorel’s daughter’s illness and her exact location in the remote monastery from daily intelligence.

And this potion was initially developed under the leadership of the Jade Federation’s Master Merian, as long as the materials were complete, it could be perfectly recreated with time.

Moreover, this pale green potion was prepared precisely for today’s moment.

Louis gently pushed the potion closer: "This isn’t a transaction; it’s a meeting gift. You can take it first and try it. If it’s effective... we can talk about the terms afterward. I have more, enough to cure your daughter."

Sorel’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, his chest seeming pressed by something heavy.

All his chips, titles, commercial routes, ritual systems, political bait, were insignificant compared to this small potion.

His lips quivered slightly, finally reaching out, yet paused before touching the bottle.

At this moment, his defenses completely crumbled.