Inside the laboratory, the air was thick with the rich scent of grease.
Irene was directing several nimble assistants in the first step of the operation: grease refining.
"Listen up! Although the grease in these candles is valuable, it has too many impurities. We must add water and heat it first!"
Irene held a stirring rod made of pure silver, its surface polished to an extreme smoothness, and slowly stirred the mixture in a giant iron pot. In this era before Glass was commonplace, silver tools became Irene's most luxurious and reliable chemical instruments. Not only were they corrosion-resistant, but their discoloration reactions could also help her judge the residue of certain harmful substances.
Baskets of fat and beeswax—items originally squandered by nobles late at night as symbols of their decadent status—were thrown into the large cauldron. Under Irene's guidance, they used the strong alkaline liquid purified from wood ash to begin the most basic saponification reaction.
Inside the iron pot, the milky-white semi-solid liquid tumbled and rolled. Irene used a tool to scoop up a spoonful, carefully observing the consistency as it coated the vessel.
"Although we don't have precision Glass instruments for monitoring, this barely passes."
Irene wiped the sweat from her forehead, her eyes shimmering with light. To lower costs, the regular version of the soap had the expensive essential oils removed. She turned instead to the wild mint and soap pods that grew all over the Kingdom of Mason.
This not only endowed the soap with an extremely refreshing herbal scent but also provided excellent insect-repelling and itch-relieving effects during the stifling summer days.
When Sophia stepped into the workshop, what she saw were rows of neat wooden molds. Irene was leading several apprentices in pouring the soap liquid, which had completed its reaction and was in a semi-solid state, into the molds.
Every bar of soap was required to be cut perfectly square, and the side had to be embossed with an extremely concise design using a specially made metal stamp: a budding Black Rose. If one looked carefully, the two characters for 'Mason' could be seen in the center of the flower's heart. This was Irene's suggestion, and Sophia had agreed to it casually.
"This is?"
Sophia walked to the worktable and reached out to gently touch a bar of soap that was drying. The texture was smooth and creamy, carrying the unique coolness of wild mint.
"Your Majesty, this is the 'Mason Type I' regular soap made according to your requirements," Irene leaned in excitedly, speaking rapidly. "The cost is extremely low, but the cleaning power is quite good. And that small jar over there—Your Majesty, look."
Irene pointed to a delicate porcelain jar inlaid with a gold rim in the corner.
"That is the 'Queen's Special Supply' prepared for the Queen of Leighton. I added the confiscated essential oils and a little pearl powder to it. I guarantee that after washing with it, she will feel her skin is ten years younger."
Sophia expressionlessly rubbed the rose emblem on the soap. Good stuff. Sophia calculated the exchange rate in her heart, but her face remained as cold as an ice sculpture.
She turned her head to look at Delilah, who had been guarding her side, her gaze becoming increasingly complex.
"Delilah."
"This subordinate is present." Delilah immediately bowed with her hand on her sword, her voice solemn.
"Currently, only Irene knows the formula for this thing. But the finished product will soon become a 'Divine Miracle' in the eyes of the nobles of neighboring countries."
Sophia's voice was clear and cold, revealing a thin indifference that saw through worldly affairs.
"Before the merchant caravan departs, I want you to personally train those thirty people. They are not just guards; they are the 'face' of the Kingdom of Mason. If any noble from a neighboring country attempts to plot against you..."
Sophia's gaze focused slightly, a chilling glint that made one tremble flashing through her pale golden pupils.
"Then make them shut up forever."
Sophia would get a little angry just by imagining scenes of 'those dogs from neighboring countries laying a hand on her people.' However, for the people of this world, fresh novelties like soap and shampoo indeed held a great attraction. There would certainly be many who would harbor crooked thoughts, attempting to intercept the soap or the money the team exchanged for it.
The Kingdom of Leighton wasn't exactly close to the Kingdom of Mason, but it wasn't extremely far either; yet, there was no guarantee they wouldn't encounter bandits and rogues on the road.
Delilah looked at the piles of soap on the worktable, the refreshing mint scent she had never smelled before lingering around her nose. In her past life, the nobles of the Kingdom of Olan would often spray large amounts of expensive perfume, strong enough to make one dizzy, to cover up body odor.
But now, Sophia was using this extremely simple, clean method to redefine what 'noble' meant.
Is this 'aesthetic hegemony'?
Delilah looked at Sophia's unwavering back, and the emotion named 'awe' in her heart rose a little higher. This woman was too terrifying. She didn't need to use swords and blades to force neighboring countries to submit; she only needed to export these 'beautiful' things to make the subjects of other countries imperceptibly develop a dependence on the Kingdom of Mason.
When their lives could no longer be separated from Mason's supplies, their backbones would be thoroughly broken.
"Your Majesty, rest assured." Delilah took a deep breath, her eyes firm. "This subordinate will protect the caravan with my life. I will let those people of the Kingdom of Leighton know the meaning of the Kingdom of Mason's majesty."
Sophia nodded. This was her first trade with another country since ascending the throne, and also a test for Delilah.
If successful, she would truly accept Delilah. Her background and motives for joining the Kingdom of Mason were suspicious; even though she had saved Sophia and Irene before, both the timing of her appearance and her other behaviors could not withstand careful scrutiny. Although the saying went 'use a person, don't suspect them; suspect a person, don't use them'... mainly, she really didn't have anyone else to use.
Three days later.
A merchant caravan composed of thirty elite Musketeers assembled before the Royal City gates. The leather confiscated from the homes of several nobles had now been made into thirty sets of leather armor, worn by these men.
Victor was leading people to load crate after crate of soap and shampoo, packaged in fine wooden boxes, onto the carriages.
Sophia stood on the tower, looking down at the team about to depart. She didn't speak any grand words; she just said faintly to Irene beside her as the strong wind blew her hair:
"Irene, make a bit more. I have a premonition that the Queen of Leighton will be a big client."
Irene chuckled, "Your Majesty, don't worry, I've already made the apprentices work overtime!"
Delilah turned back to salute the tower, then turned and mounted her horse. With a whistle from Delilah, the caravan slowly started moving, disappearing into the dust in the distance.
Sophia looked into the distance, lowering her head to look at her left arm, which had scabbed over but still throbbed with faint pain.
It's done.
Next, it depends on whether this group of neighbors is willing to obediently hand over the things in their pockets for these few bars of soap.
Sophia turned around, her small leather shoes clicking as she went back to the study to delve into the 'greenhouse construction plan' that was giving her a headache. News had come from Kree Village that the first batch of wheat seedlings was growing well; Sophia planned to find a day with good weather to go take a look.
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