Part 1
The morning sun cast long shadows across the Redwood Estate's courtyard as Philip stood before two saddled horses, experiencing a sensation he hadn't felt since his corporate days: the unique terror of being exposed as utterly incompetent at something he was supposedly an expert in.
"Master Philip," Lydia said with the patient tone of someone explaining quantum physics to a particularly dim goldfish, "you were a cavalry captain. Surely the basic principles of equitation remain within your muscle memory?"
Philip eyed the chestnut mare—Buttercup, according to the stable boy—who gazed back with what he could only interpret as equine skepticism. The horse snorted, as if to say, This one? Really?
"Brain damage," Philip ventured meekly. "It seems to have... uh... affected my riding skills too."
Albert, already mounted on a sturdy bay gelding with the ease of someone who'd spent decades in the saddle, cleared his throat diplomatically. "I understand completely, sir. To suddenly lose a skill so vital to one's identity—it must be devastating. But have faith, muscle memory has a way of returning. With practice, of course."
"Yes!" Philip seized the explanation like a drowning man clutching driftwood. "You're absolutely right, Albert! I just need to regain the skill through relentless practice. Over time. Lots of time."
Natalia emerged from the manor entrance, and Philip's train of thought derailed spectacularly. She wore a modest riding dress that, despite its conservative cut, somehow managed to highlight every curve with mathematical precision. The morning light caught her silver eyes as she tilted her head, studying the horses with the intense focus one usually reserved for scientific research.
"Master," she said, her voice carrying that unique blend of innocence and allure that never failed to short-circuit his brain functions, "it is imperative for someone with impaired brain functions to ride with guidance from someone experienced. I've been reading extensively about riding safety in The Duchess's Guide to Proper Equestrian Conduct. It emphasizes the importance of close supervision for those recovering from... injuries."
The suggestion sent Lydia into action with military efficiency. "An excellent proposal. Master Philip, you'll ride with me. I am, as you know, experienced in all modes of transportation." She paused, turning to Albert with an expression of natural authority. "Albert, you'll accompany Miss Natalia. For her safety, naturally."
"But—" Albert began, his weathered face already showing the first signs of what Philip recognized as the 'Natalia Effect'—that peculiar combination of protective instinct and internal turmoil that she inspired in most men.
"Time is of the essence," Lydia proclaimed, already mounting Buttercup with a grace that spoke of long practice. "Miss Natalia requires an experienced horseman to ensure her safety on her first proper ride."
Philip watched Albert's expression cycle through duty, embarrassment, and something that looked suspiciously like a man mentally composing his own eulogy as Natalia approached the bay gelding with barely contained excitement.
"How thrilling!" Natalia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with childlike enthusiasm. "I've studied the theoretical aspects extensively. According to A Song of Lust and Glory, Volume Seven, the heroine always describes the experience as 'feeling the beast's raw power beneath her, submitting to the rhythm of its gait.'" She paused thoughtfully. "Though I must confess, the author spent three entire pages on the sensation of 'mounting' which seemed excessive for such a simple action."
Albert made a sound somewhere between a cough and a prayer.
"The books were quite specific," Natalia continued as Albert helped her mount sidesaddle behind him, her movements somehow both graceful and endearingly clumsy. "About the importance of... proper positioning. The author writes, 'She pressed herself against him, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric, moving as one with the powerful creature beneath them.'" She adjusted her position, causing Albert to stiffen like a man who'd just realized he was sitting on a live wire. "Am I doing this correctly? The novel emphasized finding the right... rhythm."
"Perhaps," Lydia interjected with arctic composure, though Philip caught the way her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, "we should focus on reaching our destination? Master Philip, if you would?"
Philip found himself seated behind Lydia, his arms wrapped around her waist with all the dignity of a sack of potatoes strapped to a racehorse.
"Master Philip," Lydia said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement, "while I appreciate your enthusiasm for safety, perhaps you could refrain from attempting to merge our torsos? Breathing remains a biological necessity, even for devoted servants."
"Sorry," Philip mumbled, loosening his death grip to merely desperate clinging. "How far is this place again?"
"Approximately four and a half hours at a comfortable pace," Albert called back, his voice notably higher than usual. Behind him, Natalia had discovered the fascinating physics of horseback riding.
"Oh!" she gasped as the horse transitioned from walk to trot. "The books didn't adequately convey the... intensity of the experience. When the rhythm changes, the whole dynamic shifts! It's like..." She paused, searching for words. "Like that scene in The Viscount's Secret Passion where the heroine describes 'waves of sensation with each movement, building to an almost unbearable crescendo.'"
"Miss Natalia," Albert managed, his ears now the color of fine burgundy, "perhaps we could discuss literature at a more... stationary time?"
"But this is the perfect opportunity for practical application of theoretical knowledge!" Natalia protested, shifting again in a way that made Albert grip the reins like a lifeline. "In Midnight in the Duke's Stable, the heroine specifically notes how the motion creates a 'delicious friction', but feeling it is really different from reading it."
Lydia's shoulders were now shaking openly. "You're doing splendidly, Miss Natalia. Simply follow Albert's lead and try to... minimize the literary analysis."
"Of course! Though I must say," Natalia continued, blissfully unaware of Albert's suffering, "the actual experience far exceeds the descriptions. The warmth, the constant motion, the way every adjustment creates new sensations... No wonder the heroines in these books are always eager for long rides. Chapter twelve of The Rake's Racing Wager makes so much more sense now!"
The horses picked up pace, and Philip instinctively tightened his grip on Lydia again as Buttercup's gait smoothed into a steady rhythm. The movement was hypnotic, almost soothing once he stopped fighting it.
"Master Philip," Lydia said conversationally, "might I suggest a topic of discussion to distract from your... current predicament? Perhaps we should review our approach to the sales office?"
"Yes!" Philip agreed with desperate enthusiasm. "The plan. We need to look like potential buyers in order to get an accurate firsthand understanding of the market condition."
"Middle-class merchants," Lydia confirmed. "Successful enough to afford luxury, not so elevated as to buy grand estates."
"But arriving on horseback?" Albert managed to contribute, though his voice cracked slightly as Natalia adjusted her position again.
"A practical choice," Lydia explained. "Motorcars is far too luxurious. Our own carriages bear the Redwood arms. Hired carriages in the current climate, with assassins potentially lurking, would be foolish. Horses suggest we're... economical. Practical."
"Besides," Natalia added brightly, "this is such wonderful exercise! My whole body feels so alive and tingling! Is that normal, Albert?"
Albert's only response was what sounded like a prayer in three different languages.
The journey continued with Natalia providing increasingly enthusiastic commentary. She marveled at how "every muscle must work in harmony," questioned whether the "building warmth in her core" was typical.
Part 2
By the time they'd reached the halfway point, Albert had achieved a complexion that suggested severe sunburn, Lydia had given up all pretense of maintaining dignity, and Philip was seriously considering whether falling off the horse might be preferable to continuing this journey.
Mercifully, the Sapphire Sanctuary development finally came into view, and Philip felt his stomach drop in a way that had nothing to do with horseback riding.
The development sprawled across what had once been prime agricultural land, a monument to architectural ambition and financial optimism. The entrance featured massive stone pillars topped with brass plaques that proclaimed "SAPPHIRE SANCTUARY - EXCLUSIVE SUBURBAN LIVING" in letters that managed to be both elegant and desperate.
Beyond the gates, Philip could see row upon row of houses—magnificent houses, he had to admit. Many reminded him of the French Provincial Manor style that had been popular among suburban McMansions in his old world. They were decorated with elaborate stonework, two-bay carriage houses, and enough architectural flourishes to supply a small baroque palace. Each one screamed "new money trying very hard to look like old money."
The problem, immediately apparent even from a distance, was that most of them stood empty and lifeless as mausoleums.
As they approached the sales office—a converted manor house that looked like it was trying to cosplay as Versailles—Philip noticed the small details that spoke of struggle. The brass fixtures showed telltale signs of tarnish. The elaborate gardens, while maintained, had the slightly desperate look of reduced maintenance budgets trying to keep up appearances. The ornate fountain in the entrance circle was dry, with a discretely placed sign claiming "Maintenance in Progress" that had clearly been there long enough to grow moss.
The parking area contained exactly two vehicles: a modest carriage that had seen better decades and an ostentatious motorcar that probably belonged to the sales manager and represented their entire net worth.
"Remember," Lydia murmured as they prepared to dismount, "we're the Ashworth family. You're Theodore Ashworth, a modestly successful silk merchant from another province. I'm your mother Clara, Albert is your father George, and Natalia is..."
"My wife," Philip supplied, then immediately regretted it as Natalia's face lit up with such genuine delight that something in his chest performed an elaborate gymnastics routine.
"Oh, how wonderful!" Natalia exclaimed, then caught herself. "I mean—yes, of course. Your devoted wife who loves you very much. Just a normal, human wife who enjoys horseback riding!"
Albert muttered something that sounded like a plea for divine intervention.
As they tied up their horses, the sales office door burst open with the desperate enthusiasm of a jack-in-the-box that had been wound too tight. A woman emerged who appeared to have been assembled from spare parts of different real estate agents—the smile of a barracuda, the handshake of a desperate vice grip, and the eyes of someone who hadn't made a sale in three months.
"Welcome to Sapphire Sanctuary!" she trilled, her voice hitting frequencies that made nearby dogs consider relocating. "I'm Millicent Goldwater, senior sales executive and lifestyle consultant! Oh my, what a lovely family! Please, you must come in immediately—the opportunity to join our exclusive community won't last long!"
Her gaze had locked onto Natalia with the intensity of a targeting spell, and Philip could practically see the calculations running behind her eyes: Beautiful young woman plus modest clothing plus ordinary-looking husband equals desperate housewife he's trying to keep happy equals easy sale.
"Mr...?" Millicent prompted, extending her hand to Philip while never taking her eyes off Natalia.
"Ashworth," Philip supplied. "Theodore Ashworth. This is my wife, Natalia, my mother Clara, and my father George."
"Charming! Absolutely charming!" Millicent's smile widened to anatomically improbable dimensions. "And Mrs. Ashworth, may I say you have the most exquisite bearing! One can always tell quality, regardless of how... modestly... it chooses to present itself."
Natalia, bless her, tilted her head in genuine confusion. "Thank you?"
Philip covered his laugh with a cough.
"You are most welcome! Come right in!" Millicent practically yanked them toward the office. "Though I should mention, inventory is moving quickly. This exclusive release only launched this morning, and we've already had tremendous interest!"
Philip caught Albert's eye. The older man's expression suggested he was already turning into a human lie detector.
They entered the sales office, and Philip had to bite back a groan. It was like someone had asked an AI to design "desperate luxury" and then cranked the settings to maximum. Every surface that could be marbled was marbled. Crystal chandeliers hung with the frequency of fruit on an overloaded tree. The walls featured oil paintings of the development that showed it populated with happy families, playing children, and what appeared to be a spontaneous garden party that would have required a platoon of staffs and military-level logistics.
"Please, sit!" Millicent gestured to chairs that looked like they'd been upholstered by someone with a personal vendetta against the concept of comfort. "Can I offer you refreshments? We have imported tea, coffee, and our specialty—Sapphire Sanctuary Spring Water, bottled from our own artesian well!"
"How impressive," Lydia murmured, settling into her chair with the poise of someone accustomed to luxury. "The development seems quite... ambitious."
"Visionary!" Millicent corrected. "Lord Philip Redwood himself conceived this community as the future of suburban living. Each home is a masterpiece of design, featuring imported marble, hand-carved woodwork, and the latest in magical conveniences!"
Philip tried not to wince at hearing his own name invoked as a figure of authority.
"And the pricing?" Albert inquired with the blunt practicality of his assumed merchant-father role.
Millicent's smile flickered for just a moment. "Well, for the first 80 purchasers, we are offering a 'Spring Celebration Pricing Event'—a limited-time opportunity to join our community at friendship prices!"
"It's summer," Natalia observed innocently.
"Extended spring!" Millicent rallied. "Now, let me show you our available models. We have the Duke—4,500 square feet of pure luxury above ground. The Marquess—3,800 square feet of refined elegance. And the Earl—a cozy 3,200 square feet perfect for the intimate family!"
"Cozy," Philip repeated. "At 3,200 square feet."
"Well, one must have room for the servants' quarters," Millicent explained, as if this were as obvious as needing room for breathing. "And the second parlor. And the music room. And the conservatory..."
She launched into a presentation that would have impressed a carnival barker. Every feature was "exclusive," every amenity was "world-class," and every aspect was "inspired by nobility." The development apparently featured its own private security force—"For that peaceful aristocratic feeling!", a planned country club—"Memberships available for additional investment!", and future plans for a private school—"Ensure your children mix with the right sort!"
"And the current occupancy?" Lydia asked with the casual tone of someone planting a landmine.
Millicent's smile became slightly fixed. "Well, as I mentioned, we only opened sales this morning. The developer had been holding back after completion to ensure absolute perfection. A full year of quality inspections!"
Philip glanced at the wall-mounted map showing lot status. The legend told the real story:
Sold (Green): 2 lots
Sold Conditional (Yellow): 28 lots
Available (Red): 137 lots
Most of the "Sold Conditional" sales were probably conditional offers that would evaporate like morning dew if the market declines further down the road.
"Could we tour the model homes?" Natalia asked brightly. "I'm particularly interested in the architectural details."
Millicent practically levitated with enthusiasm. "Of course! Let me just get my colleague to prepare the Duke model—it has the most spectacular master suite with a private bathing chamber featuring the latest in heated water technology!"
She bustled off, leaving them alone in the office with no opportunity for rejection.
"The twenty-eight conditional sales in this market," Philip muttered. "How many do you think will actually close?"
"If you're lucky? Half," Lydia replied. "If you're realistic? Five to eight. If the market continues softening? You'll be lucky to close any."
"The lot sizes are excessive," Albert observed, studying the map. "Forty to fifty-foot frontages. That's significant land cost per unit."
"Classic boom-time thinking," Philip said grimly. "When everyone thought prices would rise forever and credit would flow like water. Fear of missing out meets the Greater Fool Theory."
Natalia had wandered over to study the artistic renderings more closely. "These paintings depict a lifestyle requiring at least six servants per household," she observed. "But the floor plans show accommodations for one, perhaps two at most. The mathematical impossibility of the portrayed lifestyle is quite striking."
Millicent returned with another person in tow—a young man who looked like he'd been pressed from the same desperate real estate mold but with less success. His smile was equally wide but somehow more tragic, like a drowning man's last attempt at optimism.
"This is Reginald, our junior sales associate! He'll be showing you the Duke model while I prepare our exclusive buyer incentive packages!"
"Incentive packages?" Philip inquired, though he dreaded the answer.
"Oh yes! For qualified buyers who commit today, we're offering complimentary upgraded fixtures, credited closing costs, and—this is very exclusive—a three-year exemption from community association fees!"
The desperation was practically palpable.
Reginald led them out toward the model homes, maintaining a steady patter about the development's virtues while carefully steering them away from certain streets—probably the ones where the maintenance was slipping.
The Duke model was, admittedly, impressive in its excess. If one didn't think about how the imported marble and gilt fixtures only emphasized the desperate grasping for status.
"The great room features twenty-foot ceilings!" Reginald announced, gesturing grandly. "Perfect for entertaining!"
"All those aristocratic friends that we aspire to have," Philip thought with sarcasm.
They toured through room after room of excessive space. The kitchen could have serviced a small restaurant. The master suite was larger than most middle-class homes.
"And here," Reginald said with the reverence typically reserved for religious sites, "is the master bathing chamber!"
It was spectacular in its excess. Marble everything, gold fixtures, a bathtub that could have doubled as a small swimming pool, and what appeared to be a chandelier hanging over said bathtub because apparently formal lighting enhances the beauty of nakedness.
Natalia examined the bathtub with scientific interest. "This seems designed for multiple occupants. Is communal bathing common in suburban living? The romance novels I've read suggest... oh." She paused, her eyes widening with sudden understanding. "Oh! This is like that scene in The Duke's Secret Chambers where—"
"Perhaps we should view the other fixtures!" Philip interjected hastily.
"The fixtures," Lydia observed, deftly redirecting, "are they all included in the base price?"
"Ah, well, these are the upgraded premium fixtures," Reginald admitted. "The standard fixtures are... also very nice! Would you like to see the Earl model? It features more... economical appointments."
They trudged through two more model homes, each one a monument to optimistic pricing and overbuilding. By the time they returned to the sales office, Millicent had prepared what looked like enough paperwork to purchase a small kingdom.
"Now then!" she chirped, spreading contracts across the desk like tarot cards. "Let's discuss how we can welcome the Ashworth family to Sapphire Sanctuary! Based on your obvious discernment and—dare I say—eyes for quality, I think the Duke model would be perfect!"
"The pricing?" Philip asked, though he dreaded the answer.
"The original list price was $13,780," Millicent said, then quickly added, "but with our spring celebration pricing and your early adopter incentives, we could offer it for just $11,980!"
Philip felt his soul leave his body. A 15% discount and they still couldn't move inventory.
"That seems... substantial," Albert said carefully.
"For 4,500 square feet of luxury? It's practically giving it away!" Millicent's desperation was beginning to show through her professional veneer. "And financing is available! We work with several banks who are very motivated to support Sapphire Sanctuary buyers!"
"We'll need to discuss it as a family," Lydia said in her best matronly voice. "Such a significant investment requires careful consideration."
"Of course! Of course!" Millicent began gathering brochures with the fervor of someone who knew the sale was walking out the door. "But don't wait too long! We have several other families viewing this week, and at these prices, the remaining inventory won't last!"
"Yes," Philip said dryly, eyeing the red pins on the map. "I can see how quickly they're moving."
Millicent's smile finally cracked. For just a moment, Philip saw the exhausted, commission-dependent sales agent desperately trying to navigate a rapidly cooling market. Then the professional mask slammed back into place.
"Here's my card," she said, pressing business cards on each of them. "And please, take these brochures. They detail all the amenities and the exciting future plans for the community!"
As they prepared to leave, Natalia approached Millicent with genuine concern. "You seem troubled. Is the market situation affecting your well-being?"
Millicent's eyes widened. "I... what? No! I just want to ensure such a lovely couple doesn't miss out on this opportunity!"
"Natalia," Philip said gently, wrapping his arm around her waist in their prearranged signal.
"Thank you for your time!" Lydia said brightly, physically steering Natalia toward the door. "We'll be in touch!"
They escaped to their horses, where Reginald was waiting with the desperate hope of the junior associate who sensed a possible save.
"If pricing is a concern," he said quickly, glancing around nervously, "I should mention that there might be... future adjustments."
"Oh?" Philip asked, unable to help himself.
"Between you and me?" Reginald glanced around nervously. "The development was released for sale this morning, so it might take a month or two before the Redwood family, yes, that Redwood, get tuned in with the current market reality and start authorizing additional price cuts. These houses are certainly great value for the long term, but in the short term..."
"Reg!" Millicent's voice cracked like a whip from the doorway.
"Just ensuring the customers have all the information for their decision!" Reginald called back, then whispered, "Seriously. Come back in a few months, if price is your concern."
Philip nodded thoughtfully, mentally filing the information away as they mounted their horses for the return journey. This time, he managed to climb behind Lydia with marginally more dignity, though he still gripped her waist like a lifeline once they started moving.
"Your thoughts?" Lydia asked on their ride home.
"Sell, fast!" Philip said firmly. "But we need to somehow boost the sales figures first to ensure a higher valuation when we sell the entire project to a commercial buyer. We need to get a few marketing experts and have this figured out."
"Maybe we could form some partnerships with banks to help with the financing side," Albert suggested from ahead, where Natalia had resumed her position with renewed enthusiasm for the journey home. "As the current high rates and relatively restrictive monetary environment is affecting many potential buyer's purchasing abilities. A lot of these middle class families relies on mortgages while others have much higher returns else where for their capital. The current lending rates by banks to businesses standing at around 8%, they rather use their funds to paydown business loans than buy houses. But if we could somehow manage to ease their access to the much cheaper mortgage loans, around 4%, then buyers who are business owners may no longer be deterred by the need to divert funds from other higher return priorities."
"So your specific proposal?" Lydia interrupted.
Albert continued, "We should partner with various banks and establish a separate, ancillary entity to facilitate easier access to financing for our buyers. This entity, operating similarly to a mortgage broker, would handle the administrative processes involved. Crucially, we can offer discreet, behind-the-scenes guarantees provided by the Trust to the lending banks on a case-by-case basis. These 'invisible subsidies' wouldn't appear publicly as discounts or explicit incentives for the development, nor would they be broadly available or known to buyers. Only the Trust and the lending banks would be privy to these guarantees, keeping them entirely confidential to the degree legally permissible. Buyers themselves would simply experience seamless mortgage approvals, unaware of the underlying support. It's essential that this facilitating entity remains entirely separate from the project itself to maintain a clear boundary and avoid any suspicion."
"But wouldn't it introduce a lot of risks onto the Trust?" Philip asked.
"Here is where we need to do more analysis. So we are offering the guarantee on a case by case basis at our own discretion. Hence, we can control the portion of qualified buyers at 20% of all the buyers, so that would make 33 buyers. Moreover, as these guarantees are private and not advertised as part of the project, I will discuss those details later, then, we can select base on our own meticulous research and assessment. The key is, as no one knows this exists, we only need to keep it up until the project is sold. In other words, say we want to make it appears that Sapphire Sanctuary project is selling really well, then in next 6 months, we should sell 30% of it, so that would be 50 houses that needs to be sold and 20% of 50 would be like 10 houses, and that limits our aggregate guarantee at approximately $100,000 in value, and that is secured by the house itself and the other assets of the debtor and we, as the guarantor, is only the payer of last resort. So in the most extreme case, say we lose 80% of it, then as long as the increased in apparent sales can boost our project valuation by more than $80,000, then it's worth it."
Natalia whispered, her eyes lighting up with a spark of revelation and a smile suggesting she'd just enjoyed the most satisfying intellectual feast in ages, "That's brilliant!"
"But wouldn't that be a bit… ethically questionable… and legally murky?" Philip whispered.
"Well… special time calls for special measures… Just like how your father outsourced his university essays to experts in some imperial protectorate in Africa." Lydia chimed in.
"Wait—what?" Philip blurted in genuine surprise, nearly tumbling off balance before desperately flinging his arms around Lydia, clutching her in an unintentionally passionate bear hug as though they'd suddenly entered a spontaneous tango.
"Easy, Master Philip. But I really must say, your need some exercise." Lydia said. Then, Philip realized to his embarrassment that his belly was firmly pressed against Lydia's back.
"But yes, we need to do some careful financial analyses to ensure our assumptions are correct and we will have our legal team review it to ensure compliance. So there might be some delays—" continued Albert.
"However, the approach could potentially violate compliance requirements regarding transparency, disclosure, and equitable treatment in property transactions. It could also lead to reputational damage for the Redwood family if the hidden transactions were later discovered by media." Natalia stated with a thoughtful tone.
"Can't we maybe leverage some of my grandfather's network?" Philip asked.
"Well, the Duke would like to state out of the spotlight. The last thing he wants is to spend his laboriously accumulated political capital on something like this. So no." Lydia answered sweetly yet firmly.
"There is another way, to leverage the Duke's influence without eroding his political capital." Natalia said, surprising everyone.
"Do tell, sweetie." Lydia said with an encouraging voice.
"Given that the Duke is a peer in the House of Lords, he could introduce legislation advocating for the free movement of people across the Empire, irrespective of their current place of residence. Of course, such a bill stands virtually no chance of passing in the present political climate. But that's not the primary aim. Instead, the objective is to generate significant media coverage and public discourse, leading to media analysis of the potential impact of such a reform if enacted—particularly the possible impact on real estate values in premium locations like Yortinto where elites from across the Empire had been flooding into before the recent tightening in immigration rules. Even the smallest perceived chance of this bill becoming law would immediately attract speculators and investors, causing asset prices to rise, as valuations inherently reflect all anticipated future opportunities and risks." Natalia said in an analytical tone.
"Moreover, considering how sluggish imperial parliamentary proceedings tend to be—at least based on everything I've read—it's entirely feasible for the Duke to sustain the bill in various stages of discussion or review over an extended period. The longer he can maintain visible efforts towards its advancement, the longer the speculative premium on real estate valuations will persist. This will create an optimal window of enhanced prices." Natalia's expression turning increasingly cheerful as she continued to outline her plan, with her embrace on Albert getting inadvertently tighter.
"Additionally, the current state of Yortinto's real estate industry is such that investors and media alike are hungry for any promising news—no matter how speculative—that might uplift market sentiment. Consequently, the industry would eagerly seize upon and amplify the bill's potential impact." Natalia beamed with satisfaction as she continued outlining her proposal.
"And the beauty of this strategy? It's entirely legal. If executed carefully, it could significantly bolster the Duke's political reputation as well, casting him as a genuine champion of the common people, even if the bill ultimately fails. He would embody the spirit of reform, becoming a powerful symbol and perhaps even an iconic figure for the increasing number of political groups throughout the Empire advocating for equal rights for all citizens of the Empire. One common aspiration across all these groups' agenda is equal rights to cross-border mobility. It would further cement his already prominent reputation as a leading figure of the reform faction. Truly, it's a win-win scenario!" Natalia concluded, beaming enthusiastically as she gestured broadly, causing Albert to blush furiously at the sensation of Natalia's bosom repeatedly brushing up and down against his back.
"Woah, look at your sweetheart, already knows how to monetize power for money. What did they used to say in your old world? Petty criminals break the law; great criminals manipulates the law." The System's voice chimed in Philip's mind.
"I can see the urgency of instilling a moral compass now." Philip responded mentally.