Chapter 34: Chapter 34: The Banquet (Part 2)

    As Arthur spoke of the opportunities awaiting them, a wave of anticipation rippled through the banquet hall. One by one, the guests turned the pages of their documents to the second section, their curiosity overcoming their lingering resentment.

    As their eyes moved across the words, confusion began to cloud their faces. Whispers broke out among the nobles as they pointed to unfamiliar terms and phrases scattered across the words. Concepts such as "equity," "dividends," "capital gains," and "investment pools" leapt from the pages, alien and bewildering to a crowd accustomed to traditional wealth and land ownership.

    "What does this mean?" a noblewoman murmured, frowning as she traced a finger under the word "shares."

    "This—''economic partnership''—what is the king talking about?" another asked, his voice tinged with both intrigue and skepticism.

    Their eyes darted between each other, then back to the document, as though collectively trying to piece together a foreign concept. For many, the terms were not just puzzling—they were entirely outside the scope of anything they had ever considered. The aristocracy of Keldoria had long defined wealth in terms of land, titles, and amount of servants they had. The idea of intangible wealth—wealth that could grow and multiply through investment and trade—was a revelation as much as it was a mystery.

    Arthur observed their reactions carefully. Some furrowed their brows in frustration, while others leaned closer to their neighbors, discussing theories in hushed tones. He could see the seeds of curiosity taking root amidst the skepticism, the first sparks of thought igniting in their minds. This was exactly the reaction he had anticipated—and hoped for.

    Still, the air remained thick with uncertainty, and the question lingered unspoken: what exactly was Arthur proposing, and how could it benefit them?

    Arthur clapped his hands sharply, the sound reverberating through the grand hall and pulling every eye toward him. "I understand," he began, his tone steady yet commanding, "that many of the words and concepts outlined in the document I''ve shared are unfamiliar to some of you. These are theories—concepts I have studied, developed, and refined. And while they are not yet perfect, they are meant to grow and evolve over time, either by myself or through the contributions of others." He allowed a moment for his words to settle before continuing. "Now, let me guide you through Section Two of the document," he said, his voice firm yet inviting. "We will start from the beginning."

    Arthur stepped forward, gesturing to the pages in their hands. "The section begins by addressing tangible goods—those physical items that have long been the cornerstone of wealth. Gold, silver, gemstones, fine fabrics, and land—these are things we all understand and value. They are easy to see, touch, and trade. But our understanding of wealth must go beyond the tangible."

    He paced slowly, his tone growing more animated. "There is another type of wealth—one that many overlook but is just as valuable. Intangible goods. These are acts of labor, skill, or expertise offered to fulfill a need. Consider the blacksmith who forges a sword. When you pay them, you are not simply purchasing the metal; you are paying for their skill, their craftsmanship, and the time they spent honing their craft. Similarly, the services of a healer, a solider, or even an artist—all of these are examples of intangible goods. They are things you cannot hold in your hand, yet they shape our world, drive our economy, and enrich our lives."

    Arthur stopped, letting his words settle before continuing. "This distinction is important because it sets the stage for what comes next. Recognizing the value of both tangible and intangible goods allows us to innovate and grow beyond traditional means of wealth. And that brings us to the ideas of shares and investments."

    The crowd, though still hesitant, leaned in ever so slightly, their curiosity outweighing their doubt. Arthur continued, "Shares, as I mentioned earlier, represent partial ownership in an enterprise. They allow ventures to thrive by pooling resources from many investors, each of whom shares in the profits. For example, a guild of skilled artisans might issue shares to fund the creation of unique and valuable goods. Those who invest not only help the guild succeed but also stand to profit as the guild grows and prospers."

    Arthur''s gaze swept across the room, his voice steady but carrying an edge of conviction. "For that reason, these theories will not remain confined to this hall or to the privileged few who read this document. They will be refined, enriched with more practical detail, and eventually published as public knowledge—accessible not just to nobles but to all who seek to better themselves and this kingdom."

    A ripple of surprise coursed through the room. The very notion of a king openly sharing something of such profound value, not hoarding it for personal gain or the benefit of a select few, was almost inconceivable. Yet Arthur''s words carried an undeniable sincerity, one that began to erode the lingering skepticism in the air.

    Arthur took a measured breath and continued, his voice calm but resolute. "As I have said, and as I have explained in the document, I hope you will invest—not just your gold, but your trust and effort—in me and in this kingdom. Together, we can grow, thrive, and prosper. The rewards will not merely be personal but collective, for as Keldoria flourishes, so too shall its people."

    The murmurs grew louder, a blend of astonishment and cautious intrigue. Arthur scanned the faces of the crowd seated before him, their expressions ranging from guarded skepticism to tentative curiosity. These were men and women who had, for so long, seen him as a figurehead at best—a failed king at worst. Yet now, many of them were visibly grappling with the unexpected reality that Arthur might actually possess the vision and determination needed to bring Keldoria into a new era.

    "Your Majesty," a voice finally broke through the hum of whispers. It was an older marquis, his tone measured but curious. "You speak of investing in the kingdom and growing together. But what assurances do we have that these theories of yours will yield the benefits you promise?"

    Arthur smiled faintly, as though anticipating the question. "An excellent point," he said, nodding toward the marquis. "These systems and theories are currently nothing more than just whims or untested ideas, but every investment is not without risk. Thus, I cannot offer guarantees but I can promise transparency. As I refine and implement these policies, I will ensure that you—every one of you—can see the progress and results for yourselves. This kingdom''s growth will not be built on secrecy but on trust and collaboration."

    The marquis leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful, and Arthur seized the moment to press further. "Moreover," he continued, "the alternative is stagnation. We can cling to outdated systems that only serve the few while the rest of the kingdom suffers. Or we can choose progress—together. And if we succeed, the rewards will far outweigh the risks."

    The room fell silent again, but this time it was not the uneasy quiet of doubt. It was the contemplative stillness of people weighing the weight of the moment, of realizing that the man before them—the king they had underestimated for so long—might actually have the strength and intellect to lead them into a brighter future.

    Finally, Arthur raised his goblet in a toast. "To Keldoria," he said, his voice ringing out with confidence. "To a kingdom not bound by tradition, but driven by innovation. To a future where all may prosper."

    Slowly, the guests followed suit, lifting their glasses. Some were hesitant, others more resolute, but the gesture was unanimous. The sound of clinking goblets filled the hall as they echoed Arthur''s words: "To Keldoria."

    After the toast, the guests in the banquet hall quietly turned their attention to the long-awaited meal. Though the food had grown cold after hours of sitting untouched, no one seemed to complain about it. The clatter of utensils was subdued, overshadowed by the weight of the ideas Arthur had unveiled.

    The room buzzed with a quiet intensity, as though each bite of food was accompanied by the guests'' mental efforts to digest not just their meal but the flood of revolutionary concepts Arthur had presented. Nobles, scholars, and merchant alike exchanged hushed whispers, their minds racing to grasp the implications and consider how best to position themselves in the new Keldoria Arthur envisioned.