The most important part of a man’s young life starts around age thirteen: puberty. Unfortunately, it started a little early for me, and it’s my second time.
I first noticed this happening when my father hired a sword instructor for me on my eleventh birthday. Training under the sun with armor on caused me to sweat significantly and smell awful. But that may have been a blessing.
Before the final hospitalization in my last world, I survived a pandemic. Someone ate a bat and killed some old people, so everyone stayed in their houses for a while. I didn’t mind it, and during that time, I learned some useful DIY skills. I even made my own soap, and I bet it’s better than the trash I’m using.
If you run electricity through salt water, you make chlorine gas, but when you boil the solution that’s left, you get a key ingredient in modern soaps. Combine with water, various crushed plants, and some kind of heated fat or oil, and you’ve got an effective soap.
It sounds easier than it is; it took me six months before I found plants that seemed to be useful. For body soap, I used leaves that remind me of bay leaves, and for hair, I found a plant that smells minty. If I could find aloe, I think I could proclaim myself king, but there aren’t any deserts around here.
But how do I approach this? I can give some to Mother and claim it’s knowledge from a book. She should love it and convince Father of its worth, but negotiating with her would be harder. The alternative is to drop the façade and start a hardline negotiation with Father. I give up the recipe in exchange for Oliver superseding me as heir…
***
knock knock
“Father, are you in?” I call through Father’s office door.
“Alfred, please come in.”
I step in and see Father reviewing documents at his desk – probably reports from governors in the territory.
“Do you need something, Alfred?”
“Yes, Father, as you know, I’ve read every travel account from merchants and adventurers that I’ve been able to find. The knowledge included in those accounts has been invaluable to me and has even improved the quality of the food we eat.”
Father chuckles. “You’re referring to the bacon? I am quite partial to it...”
But I’m not here for laughs, and my expression sits opposite Father’s mood. “What I can offer you now is far more valuable than bacon, but it will come at a steep price.”
Father lifts an eyebrow, then sets his papers down. “Is it something you want to sell? If you’re the creator, I don’t mind sharing the profits, though it’s a little silly since the family’s money will all become yours in time.”
“Allow me to show you, Father.” I place two bars of soap covered in cloth on my father’s desk and unwrap them. “These are soaps, one for the body and one for the hair. They’re far more efficacious than the soaps we use today, and they’re cheap to make. If we start growing the needed plants in this territory, you could mass produce starting next year.”
“Soaps?” He picks them up to feel their consistency, then smells each. “The body soap smells like a plant, though I can’t place it... oh but the hair soap has a strong fresh scent. So, what is it you want?”
The big reveal: I don’t imagine him agreeing easily, but hopefully, he doesn’t bounce the soaps off my head. “Freedom, Father, I want to spend my life traveling like the adventurers in my books. To do that, I humbly ask that you make Oliver your heir when he turns eighteen.” I finish with a bow, then look up.
But Father is tomato red. “BOY! You are my eldest, and by birthright, my heir. You’ve had the best of everything since you were born to prepare you, and you’ve grown up capable of taking my place. Even if I were so inclined, it’d bring shame to the family to disinherit the eldest son of a count’s family.” Spit comes out with his words.
“That’s precisely why I waited to ask until I could provide you with something of equal value. Your fortune will explode selling this product, and you can claim Oliver is a genius son who helped you develop it. That will provide the cover you need to name him as heir.”
Father's red face mellows to orange, but he looks pissed. “Alfred, you don’t understand what you’re asking for. Being disinherited is akin to being a criminal in the eyes of nobility. As my second son, Oliver won’t inherit the estate and my domain, but he will be in good standing and able to live a life of comfort at your side or start a branch family. If you’re disinherited, the only noble work you could do would be as a knight...”
“I understand that; I’m not asking you to disinherit me today. I still wish to attend the academy in the capital, after which I will start my life as a traveler and make my own place in the world. I can support my brother and this family with the information and goods I bring back.”
Father gives me a conflicted look, but sighs deeply before continuing. “I see you’ve thought this through to the end, but I will not disinherit my eldest. If Oliver had your mind and capabilities, I may consider it, but your talent is your undoing. The soaps we have work well enough.”
I sigh and drop my gaze to the floor. “Understood, Father, I’ll take my leave.”
Unlucky, but not unexpected. I just have to play a bit dirty. Now, where is Mother?
***
I provided the soaps that my Father refused to my Mother after negotiations broke down. It’s been two days since then, so I’m expecting progress short-
“ALFREDDDD!” Father's voice reverberates down the hall and into my room.
Ah, there it is, an enraged Father. Precisely the beast I’ve been waiting to spar with.
“Yes, Father? Please come in.”
Oh man, I’ve been looking forward to this. It’s a patriarchal society, so asking Mother for permission after Father refuses doesn’t really work. It’s been twenty years since I had the opportunity to play my parents against each other; it feels nostalgic…
Father’s stone face peeks into my room. “Son, come with me to my office.”
“Yes, Father.”
Father leads me to his office in the estate without a word. He’s truly angry, and I love it.
“Take a seat, Alfred.” He motions to the chair opposite his desk before sitting behind it.
“Yes, Father,” I say and take my seat.
“After our conversation the other day, you gave your mother the soaps I refused...” His words are measured, like he’s fighting the urge to scream.
“Yes, Father, I made those assuming you would give them to Mother to try. When you weren’t interested, I decided to give them to her directly.”
“And you anticipated that she would hound me relentlessly once she tried them?”
“I had hoped that would be the case, Father.”
“So you expected failure and used underhanded means to pressure me so you could get your own way? And you don’t seem to feel any shame about doing so...” Father holds his head in his right hand while examining my calm demeanor.
“My freedom is that important to me, Father.”
Father lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is precisely what makes you such a promising heir; the world of nobility is cutthroat even in peaceful kingdoms like this one. If you could accept your station and build upon your family’s legacy, I think you’d eclipse any of us who came before you. But you’re unwilling.”
“I’m unwilling to live my life like a tree rooted in the ground, but I will contribute with the knowledge of the wider world. And Oliver will be praised as a prodigy who helped improve the lives of all those in your domain. In doing so, the family name will also grow in acclaim.”
With eyes locked down at the floor, Father lets out a far more pitiful sigh. “And I suppose you’d eventually run away if I refused you again. Thus losing any benefit you’d bring the family and worsening our shame.”
“I’d rather it not come to that, Father. I love my family and want to be of use to them. But I cannot live a life rooted to one place.”
Father’s voice softens, and his eyes avoid me. “So it seems. Your Mother hasn’t stopped raving about how easy to brush and nice smelling her hair is. She even cut pieces off the soap for everyone in the estate to try. She beams with pride, but her heart will be broken if you leave and never come back.”
“That’s not my intention, Father. I’ll always consider this estate my home. If you keep a room for me, I promise to make use of it on occasion.”
For the first time in this conversation, Father truly looks at me. His eyes drowning in sadness. “Fine, Alfred, after you finish your schooling at the academy, you will be a free man. And when Oliver turns eighteen, he’ll be formally made my heir; during his time as head of the family, your room will remain.”
“Thank you, Father.” I bow my head and keep it down until Father speaks again.
“Regarding the soap, Alec Dulec, the governor of our farming town to the northwest, will be here this week. You’ll meet with him and discuss what needs to be planted and the process of refinement.”
“Understood, there’s only one atypical process in its creation. For that, you’ll need a lightning magic user.”
Father squints his eyes at me. “I see... write the process down and leave it with me as well.”
Freedom acquired, and nothing was thrown at me. I didn’t even have to blackmail Oliver - now I just have to survive until my academy years.