Lucas stared, dumbfounded.
"…If I fail to attend the transaction three times consecutively," he murmured quietly as he reread the line, "the field will be managed directly by the Guild... for efficiency?"
He slowly lifted his head.
Silas merely gave a small smile. Thin. Too polished.
Cunning, Lucas thought. Extremely cunning.
This wasn't about tomato harvests. This was about long-term control. The moment he slipped up, the Guild would step in, legally. Cleanly. With no one to blame.
And yet—
Lucas clenched his fingers against the edge of the paper.
With this scheme, the Voss family's debt could be paid off, especially since the harvest could be done weekly.
An opportunity like this wouldn't come twice.
"…Fine," Lucas said at last, his tone flat. "An interesting clause."
Silas's smile widened slightly. Very slightly, but enough.
Lucas lowered the paper, then turned toward the Baron.
"Father," he said shortly. "Allow me to use my personal seal."
The Baron fell silent.
