"Royal Trading Company?" Alicia repeated, tilting her head with a puzzled look. She had expected reforms, maybe a new tax code or an anti-corruption edict—not... a commercial venture.
"Yes," Lancelot replied without hesitation. "The Royal Trading Company."
Alicia blinked. "You already named it?"
"I've been thinking about it since the second hour of those reports," he said, stepping away from his desk and toward the blackboard. He picked up a stick of chalk and began to write quickly, outlining a triangle between Madrid, Manila, and Callao.
"I'm not trying to make a business, Alicia. I'm building a lever. One I can use to move the empire."
He turned to face her, chalk still in hand.
"The Royal Trading Company will be a state-chartered commercial empire. A more centralized trade and directly under crown authority."
"Wait—are you saying it's going to operate outside the existing ministries?" she asked cautiously.
"No. I'm saying it will replace them—at least in the realm of commerce. Think of it as a shadow government for trade and finance. One that answers only to the regency." He pointed the chalk toward himself.
Alicia crossed her arms. "That's ambitious."
"That's the point."
He returned to the board and underlined Madrid twice. "The headquarters will be here. A central board, chaired by me, will control all trade—every route, every port, every coin that enters or leaves the empire."
"Under what authority?" she asked.
"I'll draft the charter. You'll help me. It'll be issued under the royal seal by regency decree. Granting the company exclusive rights to all trade through our colonies, protectorates, and ports."
He began listing on the board:
Private fleets
Dock control
Taxation on foreign traders
Merchant licensing
Alicia's eyes widened slightly.
"You're going to anger half the nobility," she said.
"I'm going to buy off the other half," Lancelot replied, turning back to her. "And for those I can't bribe? I'll make them irrelevant."
He gestured to the map now drawn on the wall. "Sub-hubs: Cádiz for Atlantic trade, Manila for Asia-Pacific, Callao for Andean exports, and Havana for the Caribbean."
He underlined each one with a firm stroke of chalk. "These are our pillars. Cádiz will handle incoming and outgoing goods to Europe and West Africa. Manila anchors us in the East, tapping into Chinese silk, Japanese silver, and the Malay spice trade. Callao is our link to Andean silver and Peruvian dyes, and Havana serves as our checkpoint between the Old World and the New."
Alicia moved closer, brows furrowed as she followed the lines.
"And you want to run all of that from here?"
"No," Lancelot replied. "I want it coordinated from here. Each hub will have its own office, run by Company agents. Locals where possible. Trusted exiles or second sons where necessary. But the decisions, the profits, the taxes—all flow up to Madrid."
She moved closer to the board. "And how do you intend to deal with the colonial governors? They've been ignoring royal directives for years."
"I won't give them directives. I'll give them contracts." Lancelot's voice lowered with resolve. "We'll send agents directly to New Spain, Peru, Cuba, the Philippines. Each governor gets a fixed tax-in-kind—silver, sugar, cacao, spices—collected centrally by the Company."
"No negotiation?"
"They surrender their port autonomy in exchange for protection. We handle the trade, they get their cut. And if they refuse—" he gave a dry smile, "—we offer their rivals the same deal."
Alicia exhaled slowly. "Divide and conquer."
"Divide, standardize, and profit. It's going to be the plan of the game."
He picked up a thick folder from the edge of the desk and tossed it onto the map table. "And for the landowners, the nobles, the planters—we offer guaranteed purchase agreements. Fixed prices for their goods, access to Company fleets, and Company protection."
"Protection from what?"
"From pirates. From market collapse. From each other." He paused. "And in exchange, all their exports go through us. Taxed. Logged. Monopolized."
Alicia gave him a long look. "And the Crown?"
"Receives founder's shares. Direct equity." He leaned in. "This Company is the Crown. For once, we profit from our own empire."
Her expression shifted slowly from skepticism to something close to admiration. He wasn't bluffing. He wasn't improvising. This had been cooking in his mind from the moment he saw how empty the treasury was.
"And the foreign traders?" she asked. "What about the Genoese? The Venetians? The Mughals?"
"Selective licensing," he replied. "We'll allow some of them into the Company's framework—only under strict charter. They'll trade with our colonies under our escort, using our ships, paying our tariffs, and employing our agents."
Alicia gave a small laugh of disbelief. "You plan to infiltrate their networks."
He smiled. "With silk and pepper, not swords."
There was a long silence in the office, broken only by the faint creaking of the floorboards as Alicia slowly paced toward the window.
"I have to admit," she said finally, "when you said you wanted to start by 'raising capital,' I thought you meant another tax. I didn't expect this."
"That would be self-destruction if I do that."
"Still—I can't believe that you came up with an idea on how to solve our dwindling treasuries in just reading books and ledgers for five hours."
"Me too—but my father trusted me to run this kingdom for him so I have to give it my all."
"At dawn tomorrow, we begin drafting the charter. I want it signed, sealed, and presented to the court within a week."
Alicia didn't respond immediately. She was staring at him—no longer with suspicion, but something more subtle. Respect. Curiosity. Perhaps even a bit of hope.
"Then let the world take note," she said softly. "The Royal Trading Company is born."
Lancelot looked up, his eyes meeting hers.
"And from this day forward," he said, voice clear, "no merchant shall sail nor trade in His Majesty's colonies without bearing the seal of the Company."