A few evenings later, Tiberius sat frowning over a wax tablet, laboriously scratching out basic vocabulary exercises with an iron stylus. This was his daily battle to escape his half-literate state. Vito lounged nearby with his feet kicked up, lazily flipping through his newly purchased Lysene Love Poems Collection.
Suddenly, Vito snapped the book shut, leaned forward with a mischievous, gossipy grin, and waggled his eyebrows.
"Hey, Tiberius. You know what?"
Tiberius didn't even look up, still struggling with verb conjugations. "Know what? If it's not going to help me master these damn irregular verbs and fixed phrases, keep it to yourself."
Vito ignored him and scooted closer, his smile turning downright wicked. "This afternoon… the captain himself came looking for me."
Tiberius's stylus paused. He finally lifted his head, puzzled. "Looking for you? Why? Did our dear Lord Lysandro have another 'brilliant idea' he needs us to make real?"
"Heh heh." Vito's grin widened like he was sharing the juiciest secret in Lys. "Not even close! The captain… came to borrow books from me!"
"Books?" Tiberius looked even more confused. "What books? Basic Tactics? Geography of Essos? Surely not The History of Lys?"
Vito's face split into a full, blooming grin. "He asked me if I had any… well, 'more elegantly written' books about… 'the emotions between men and women.'"
Tiberius's iron stylus clattered onto the wax tablet. His mouth opened, then closed. He stared at Vito, then pictured his iron-willed uncle sitting under an oil lamp, carefully studying something like Passion in Lys…
His expression cycled from shock to blank disbelief, and finally settled into an extremely complicated mix of wanting to laugh and desperately trying not to. In the end, he could only manage a long, meaningful "Ohhhhh…"
Vito clapped him on the shoulder with a knowing "I get it, I totally get it" look, then went back to humming off-key and reading his poetry.
---
Half a month later.
Tiberius held a letter that had just arrived from Westeros, the corner of his mouth curling into a subtle, unreadable smile. He walked into Vito's room and found the crossbow captain once again lounging with his feet up, deeply absorbed in his Lysene Love Poems Collection.
"Vito," Tiberius waved the letter.
"Well… for my uncle, this might actually be good news. But for Lady Swann? It's pretty terrible."
He couldn't help it—his lips twitched with the urge to laugh.
Vito looked up from his book, raising one thick black eyebrow. "What happened? Stonehelm finally sent a reply? What did Count Arlan Swann say?"
Tiberius smiled, his tone laced with mockery. "I wrote to Count Arlan Swann as courtesy, informing him his niece was safe and only needed a ship sent to fetch her. I even politely mentioned reimbursing the eight hundred gold dragons for 'safekeeping.' Guess what?"
He paused, imitating a noble's haughty drawl. "The count replied that his lands keep him terribly busy, and the matter concerns family honor, so it would be inappropriate to make it public… and he 'kindly' warned me not to attempt such a crude extortion against the noble House Swann."
Tiberius shrugged. "In plain speak: he doesn't want to pay a single copper and has officially washed his hands of her. She's been abandoned to us."
Vito didn't look surprised at all. Instead, he grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. "Heh. Then he'd better stay 'terribly busy' forever. Because right now…" He jerked his chin meaningfully toward a certain direction in the estate—specifically toward a newly refurbished room that just happened to be right next to Jules's own chambers.
"Because right now… our captain seems pretty 'satisfied' with his new neighbor, doesn't he?"
"Very much so," Tiberius replied, barely holding back a grin as new schemes began spinning in his mind.
Perfect!
A highborn lady who's been half-exiled from her family, paired with a 'possibly noble' mercenary captain… That's practically a perfect match, isn't it?
---
Tiberius found Johanna Swann in the quiet study that had been prepared for her to handle documents. The girl looked healthier than before, but her brows still carried a faint shadow of worry and uncertainty.
"Lady Johanna," Tiberius said without preamble, his tone calm. "I have some rather… unpleasant news."
He gave her a concise summary of Count Arlan Swann's reply, neither exaggerating nor softening it. It was enough. The last spark of hope in Johanna's bright blue eyes died completely, replaced by deep disappointment.
Tiberius didn't rush to comfort her. Instead, he shifted the conversation, suddenly assessing her like a valuable asset.
"You're fifteen years old, a member of House Swann… Can you read?"
Johanna blinked, answering instinctively. "Yes."
"Can you write?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. What about ledgers and arithmetic?"
"…I studied some."
Tiberius's eyes lit up with surprise as he continued. "Grammar, rhetoric, logic?"
Johanna nodded. These were basic parts of a noble lady's education.
Tiberius's surprise grew. "Flower arranging, painting, and needlework…?"
"I have some skill in all of them."
Tiberius took a slow breath, his face showing open astonishment and admiration. "Seven Gods… you truly are… multi-talented."
Compared to his own half-literate original self and the rough soldiers in the company, this was night and day.
Johanna grew uneasy under his detailed "interview." She finally asked, "May I ask… what do you plan for me to do next?"
Although Jules Mord was the public face of the White Company, the clever Johanna had already figured out who really held the reins on many matters.
Especially… matters concerning her own future.
Tiberius didn't answer directly. Instead, he fetched several scrolls of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, placing them neatly on the table in front of her.
"First task," Tiberius pointed outside. "Vito—that irresponsible crossbow captain…" He twitched slightly, clearly remembering Vito's terrible "eighteenth-rate" poetry, barely suppressing a laugh.
"Ahem. Out of… enthusiasm, he wrote some stories and poems promoting 'the Honorable' Jules. His writing is… well, it has 'character.' But it could use some deeper… refinement. Would you be willing to help? For the finer details, you can discuss them directly with my uncle Jules. As the man in question, he knows the stories best."
Uncle, this is as far as your nephew can help you. If you can't seize the opportunity after this, then there's really nothing more I can do.
"And he also wrote some records of the company's history that could use整理 and polishing. Of course, verifying the actual historical facts will still need to be done with my uncle Jules, since he built the company from nothing." Tiberius added quickly, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
In short, don't ask anyone else. Just ask my uncle.
"Second task," Tiberius's expression turned serious. "The White Company now needs people who can hold a quill and manage accounts far more than it needs more men who can only hold swords. I see you have the foundation for this. I hope you can assist with some of the company's paperwork and bookkeeping."
Then Tiberius did something that surprised Johanna even more. He pulled out several parchment deeds—the estate titles granted by Lysandro, shop contracts near the harbor, and documents representing ship ownership.
"Third," he pushed the stack of documents representing enormous wealth across the table and looked at her gravely.
"In the future, these properties… will need a careful, educated, and trustworthy lady to manage them."
He deliberately paused, letting the weight of the words sink in.
"So, Lady Johanna, please believe me," Tiberius's voice was sincere and strong. "Here in Lys, I can proudly say that the wealth and complexity you will need to learn to manage in the future will far exceed what many countesses in Westeros are required to handle."
---
In the study of the White Company barracks.
The room had originally been prepared for Johanna to handle documents. At this moment, however, it had become the place where Jules Mord felt the most uncomfortable.
What the hell is going on in that nephew's head?! Jules thought.