There''s a common misconception about Western family life.

    People think that once you''re married, you don’t have to worry much about your in-laws or extended family.

    That’s only partly true.

    If the family is poor, Westerners do get a lot more freedom in their marriages compared to us. But if they’re wealthy and socially prominent, then they have to endure the same traditional obligations we do, especially around holidays, when in-laws can be as demanding as any strict old family back home.

    For example, there’s this lovely tradition during Thanksgiving where daughters-in-law show up three days early to start cooking. If they don’t, they’re treated to a whole symphony of criticism.

    And why am I thinking about all this now?

    ‘If I, a noble, refuse my older brother''s request for help, what would happen?’

    The whole Toscana Empire would surely brand me as unfit for noble society.

    After all, it’s an unspoken rule that brothers support each other—it’s the duty of a decent man.

    “Sebastian, isn’t this just too much? Usually, it’s the older brother who inherits the family title who should be helping out the younger brother, right?”

    “Yes, in most noble families, that’s how it works,” Sebastian replied, his voice trailing off.

    Sure, even if there’s no one else around, badmouthing our dear Baron Albert de Medici might be a bit much for him.

    “Still, perhaps the young master simply... No, never mind.”

    Does he actually think highly of me, seeing me as someone dependable? Or is it just that he sees me as an easy target?

    Sebastian must know the truth; even in small talk, he can’t bring himself to offer any false comfort.

    “I’ll have a cake ready for when you return home.”

    It’s not like I’m obsessed with sweets, the kind of person who de-stresses as soon as I have a bite.

    But watching Chloe enjoy a piece while I pat her head or admire her is certainly relaxing.

    I suppose this is what people mean when they say they live to see their wives at the end of a long day?

    With that, I headed straight to my brother’s office.

    “Greetings, brother. How have you been?”

    Albert rose from his seat as I spoke.

    The moment he stood, he even went so far as to give me a light hug.

    His face wore a gentle smile.

    “Though I’ve taken on the role of Baron Medici in father’s stead, I still struggle with my own shortcomings. How have you been, Fabio?”

    Albert and I have always maintained an ambiguous relationship.

    We’re not close, but we’re also not at each other’s throats.

    As the successor to the barony, Albert required a sense of dignity that set him apart from his siblings, and I respected that, which is why we’ve managed to maintain this kind of relationship.

    That’s why I was using formal language with him, out of respect for the title of “Baron.”

    And yet, he was acting all chummy, as if we’d been close all along?

    There’s definitely something unpleasant he’s about to ask of me.

    “I’ve been striving to succeed as a merchant, following the example of our family’s founder.”

    “That’s good to hear. I should work harder myself.”

    “What do you mean?”@@@@

    “The Duke recently held a gathering with young nobles.”

    “What is it?”

    “Our family is short on funds.”

    Just like in the 21st century, marriage is both a joyous and costly affair in the Toscana Empire.

    In Korea, people say that holding a wedding alone can cost an entire year’s salary. In the Empire, regardless of one’s rank, a wedding often costs as much.

    Refusing to follow this custom makes you an ungrateful wretch who disregards the good wishes of your guests.

    That’s why the cost of a noble’s wedding can be astronomical.

    ‘It can range from the family’s total annual income to as much as five years’ worth.’

    “With the chance to marry a count’s daughter, I can’t just decline due to a lack of funds. This is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss.”

    I grit my teeth, dreading his next words.

    Because I knew exactly what he’d say.

    “Lend me seventy thousand pounds, brother. You have plenty of money, so you can help the family with that much, right?”

    Seven thousand gold coins—the equivalent of two years of income from our Medici lands.

    I could probably scrape together that amount in a few months by selling seaweed in Lyon and dealing in steel.

    Converted to Korean currency, it’s enough to build three skyscrapers in Gangnam.

    “Well, I...”

    “Please, Fabio! Who else could I ask?”

    Go ask someone else, please.

    They’d lend it to you at thirty percent interest.

    Given that you’re marrying into the Farnese family, if you offered some political backing, they might even lower the interest rate.

    But here in the Toscana Empire, which values familial love and duty almost as much as Joseon, I cannot refuse my brother’s plea for help.

    So, I’ll lend him the money.

    But I will absolutely make sure to get something in return.

    ‘As the saying goes, family doesn’t abandon those who owe them money.’

    “Let’s draw up an IOU.”

    “Fabio! I love you!”

    My brother pulled me into a tight hug.

    No thanks, I’d rather only Chloe embrace me.

    “Great! Let’s start with the IOU!”

    Albert was practically skipping with joy.

    It’s strange to see a borrower so enthusiastic...

    “Interest will be five percent, and the loan of seven thousand gold coins will be repayable. If repayment becomes difficult, I’ll accept other forms of collateral.”

    “Of course. Let’s do that.”

    I have a feeling he’s banking on family bonds, like some fraudsters in Korea who think they can just get away without paying.

    Does he think I won’t collect my debt? After the wedding, we’ll see.

    I’ll find a way to get my money back, no matter what.