Chapter 192 Traveling Through the Middle Ages 192

Chapter 192: Journey to the Middle Ages 192

After obtaining the successfully tested coal briquettes, Louisa did not merely consider using them to aid the poor but also thought about widespread promotion. As a fuel related to people's livelihoods, these briquettes were both affordable and practical, making their widespread use clearly advantageous.

Lowering fuel costs would not only benefit the poorest but also significantly ease the burden on ordinary people—former firewood users, upon realizing that coal briquettes were much better than sea coal and even comparable to firewood, would likely switch to them for daily cooking and winter heating!

Especially for daily cooking... When it came to heating, firewood still held some advantages in fireplaces (though coal briquettes could also be burned in fireplaces, the effect was inferior to firewood. For heating with a stove, accessories like warming tables were needed for optimal warmth). But for cooking, unless it was roasting meat, coal stoves were far more convenient!

At this time, most homes didn't have Chinese-style stoves. Instead, they cooked over fireplaces or hearths. The hearth was just a shallow depression where fire could be lit directly. When cooking with pots, they were either hung above or placed on an iron stand over the fire.

One could imagine the huge money flow it would generate once coal briquettes were widely adopted—and the vast market potential behind it.

However, Louisa had no intention of profiting from this venture. She was not short on funds, and as part of the true "ruling class" of Vason, she had some civic-mindedness. Such a beneficial initiative for both the nation and its people wasn't worth nickel-and-diming over—so she had no plans to monopolize the coal business herself. Instead, she intended to delegate it to a few individuals.

Yes, multiple people. For essential livelihood commodities, giving the business to just one or two people risked dangerous monopolization.

But selecting the right people was crucial. Louisa saw this as a bargaining chip... Since she wasn’t after the industry’s profits, those getting a piece of the pie would naturally wield influence.

That said, there was no rush. Nobody could see the business potential yet, and she couldn’t just talk people into believing—while those with foresight could recognize the briquettes and stoves as excellent products, popularity and sales weren’t guaranteed. Many things couldn’t be judged with hindsight.

Louisa wasn't the pushy type. She decided to let the "prospects" speak for themselves. So, she would first establish a coal yard and a coal shop. This winter, besides distributing briquettes and stoves to the poor, she would also begin selling them publicly to gauge market reception.

Thus, Louisa called on merchant contacts to set up the coal yard and shop while discussing the briquettes with Guillaume. Before her marriage, as the heiress of Brudo, she had numerous merchant connections—many would jump at her command.

The coal briquettes were clearly a lucrative opportunity, but even if they weren’t, these merchants would comply to suck up to Louisa. Even if it failed, coal was cheap anyway, and gaining her trust would be a massive win (though failure was unlikely since the initial batch was entirely reserved for distribution to the poor).

Meanwhile, after seeing the briquettes and stoves delivered by the craftsmen and witnessing a demonstration, Guillaume immediately grasped their advantages.

As Louisa explained the cost benefits, he calculated the implications. Though not particularly adept at domestic governance, his schooling and big-picture view allowed him to recognize the briquettes’ significance for public welfare—especially in densely populated Xidai, the capital.

Another consideration was coal supply beyond Xidai... Once briquettes were adopted, coal demand would surge, making the old trickle of imports inadequate. Stable supply channels had to be established.

Xidai’s complication was its lack of local or nearby coal sources. The term "sea coal" stemmed from its maritime transport—similar to how China historically prefixed foreign goods with "foreign," like foreign lamps, cars, buildings, watches, or money.

However, the Middle Ages had one advantage over later times: coal was solely used as fuel, with no other applications. As mere fuel, consumption was inherently limited. Small mines deemed unviable in later eras were perfectly usable now. Targeting such mines near waterways could secure viable sources.

Of course, while small mines were acceptable, another requirement was shallow depth—mining difficulty had to be low.

Finding such mines wasn’t something to theorize about; it required fieldwork. But Guillaume didn’t need to handle that personally—he simply had to delegate the task.

"This is excellent. Lately, many have complained about rising firewood prices... If cities could adopt this sea coal, it might ease the burden on those struggling with fuel costs." Guillaume held his hands over the burning coal, feeling its warmth.

"At the very least, cooking could rely entirely on these stoves. As for heating with fireplaces..." Here, Guillaume hesitated.

"People complain to you about firewood prices? I’d guess it’s some palace steward... trying to inflate winter fuel expenses?" Louisa saw through it instantly and shook her head. "Ignore them. With the royal family wintering at Robendo Villa, the Queen Mother’s court should have fixed heating costs."

Currently, Louisa and Guillaume were the core royal members, the palace’s focal point. Their departure, along with many courtiers, left only Queen Mother Anna in Xidai’s palace—other "important figures" staying in the city didn’t reside there.

With fewer courtiers and reduced activities, cutting heating expenses was natural. But some couldn’t accept this—after all, it had long been their source of income. From stewards to servants, all profited from palace procurement.

Guillaume had no patience for this. Had these been his own people, he might have hesitated—lords of this era had to be generous to secure loyalty, and turning a blind eye to minor graft was an unspoken rule. But these palace staff were appointed by the Queen Mother and still answered to her... Why bother with them?

"Indeed, many in the palace believe that even as we winter at Robendo Villa, heating and lighting expenses in Xidai shouldn’t be reduced. They argue that with servants and attendants still maintaining the palace, firewood and candle usage remains unchanged." Guillaume’s brows furrowed slightly—his tell when annoyed.

This gesture didn’t accompany every instance of displeasure, but when it appeared, it signaled both annoyance and a sense of absurdity.

"People always rationalize from their own perspective, convincing even themselves of absurdities... Don't sweat what they do. You control the treasury—they’ll face reality eventually." Louisa then showed Guillaume the warming table and heated blankets she had commissioned.

"You mentioned earlier that coal stoves can’t match fireplaces for heating? Take a look at these. Even if you skip the fireplace, a coal stove can provide excellent warmth with these additions."

The heated table and heated quilt were the kind commonly seen in later-era China—a square table could be placed around the stove, covered with a cotton quilt, so those sitting by the table and warming themselves under the quilt wouldn’t feel cold.

Guillaume and Louisa sat together by the heated stove, feeling the warmth beneath the quilt. Louisa even had someone bring fruits and drinks—perhaps a Chinese habit, as sitting by such a table made one particularly crave snacks and beverages.

Guillaume originally wasn’t eating, but since Louisa had already served some onto his small plate, he slowly began to eat as well. Between bites, he remarked, “…Some people in the palace will likely resent us. Most lack the courage or ability to do anything, but there are always a few…”

Here, Guillaume shook his head again—court schemes were the most tiresome.

“Then just stay at the Robendo Villa more often,” Louisa said, understanding his concern. After a moment’s thought, she added, “Didn’t you choose Robendo Villa as your base precisely to avoid the palace’s political squabbles? In that case, why not properly expand it into ‘Robendo Palace’?”

Louisa immediately recalled the Sun King Louis XIV from her past life. Early in his reign, he resided in the Versailles hunting lodge in Paris, but due to his distaste for the city (the citizens’ uprisings left a deep impression on him), he later transformed it into a grand palace, creating the world-famous Château de Versailles.

“If Robendo Villa is developed into a proper royal residence, shifting the court’s center there would be simple, wouldn’t it? There are precedents in other countries… When you need to inspect your territories or return to Cité, just stay at Robendo more often, and only come to Cité Palace when absolutely necessary.”

Guillaume found Louisa’s suggestion excellent and took mental note—such matters were best handled as an established fact, without publicizing them to avoid provoking resistance from certain parties.

However, news of the coal cakes spread quickly—Louisa had organized a successful charity event where all donated old items were sold, and with the proceeds, she purchased large quantities of coal cakes and stoves, distributing them to Cité’s poor in the donors’ names. This was an open affair, witnessed by all.

Well, not all donated items were sold to attendees—after all, they were secondhand, and Louisa didn’t enforce purchases, so some failed to interest the nobility. But even the unsold items found buyers among merchants, either for personal use or resale at a markup. With her connections, Louisa easily offloaded them.

With coal stoves and a stock of coal cakes, the poor fared much better through the winter. Their daily use of coal also served as advertising for other Cité residents. Seeing how effective these coal cakes were—unlike the sea-coal of the past—and learning they were cheap and readily available, many chose to buy them.

Previously, relying on firewood meant strict fuel frugality in winter. Now, substituting coal—even entirely—allowed for a warm and cozy season. Faced with such a stark difference, the practical townsfolk knew exactly what to choose.

Though the full market potential of coal cakes wasn’t yet clear this year, the current proof of concept had succeeded. When word spread that the production method wouldn’t be kept secret, inquiries poured in almost immediately.

“This is a technology beneficial to the people. It should be disseminated, allowing interested merchants to compete freely, ensuring maximum public benefit…” This was Louisa’s genuine explanation to visitors, though to their ears, it sounded somewhat high-minded.

After all, Louisa hadn’t openly disclosed the method… One could say noble intentions and practical plans weren’t mutually exclusive, and now, Louisa wanted both.

“Your considerations are truly thorough.” Regardless of their private thoughts, everyone could only praise Louisa—not just because they sought her technology, but also because, as a Queen deeply trusted and respected by the King, excessive deference was only fitting.

“Indeed, what’s even more admirable is Your Highness’s kindness. No matter what, you always prioritize the people of this country.”

“Your Highness has always been this way—your longstanding dedication to charity speaks volumes. I heard even back in Brudo, you did much for the poor, earning their particular devotion… Soon, the people of Cité will adore you just as Brudo’s do.”

Such flattery continued unabated, and Louisa, though level-headed—who doesn’t enjoy praise?—carefully selected who would take over the coal cake industry. First and foremost, only those aligned with her and Guillaume could share in the benefits.

This approach was beyond doubt. Even in later eras, people prioritized their own, with other criteria merely refining selection within that group. Otherwise, how could loyalty be rewarded? This was an unshakable truth, especially in the Middle Ages.

With alignment ensured, other factors—primarily character—came into play. As for merchant skills, those flattering Louisa weren’t merchants themselves but nobles who’d delegate the work to their merchant affiliates.

Before long, afternoon tea arrived, and Louisa naturally invited them to stay.

“It’s ‘quarter past three’…” someone remarked immediately. By now, Louisa’s “quarter past three” afternoon tea was well-known, unlike during her time in Troyes, when only her close attendants used the phrase.

No one criticized her for gluttony—such trivialities were meaningless to a Queen, and speaking up only courted trouble.

Once the extra meal ceased to be an issue, imitation spread quickly—after all, people naturally emulated the habits of higher social classes. As Queen, Louisa was at the height of society, making her the ideal model. Plus, her afternoon tea was exquisite and elegant, perfectly suiting aristocratic tastes.

Historically, hadn’t afternoon tea first flourished among nobles before reaching the masses?

Soon, the tea and pastries were served. Fortunately, today’s spread had been prepared in anticipation of guests, so there was plenty to go around.

In truth, the kitchen now always prepared extra, given the sheer number of Louisa’s court ladies and maids. While those who declined afternoon tea theoretically wouldn’t be served, most partook anyway. Those who abstained did so due to traditions of ladylike moderation or religious asceticism.

“Today’s tea is honey lemon chrysanthemum… and for pastries, we have cheesecake, finger sandwiches, pumpkin cheese biscuits, and Jeanne biscuits!” Gina recognized every item on the tray at once, naming them enthusiastically.

Honey lemon chrysanthemum tea, cheesecake, finger sandwiches, and pumpkin cheese biscuits needed no explanation. Only the “Jeanne biscuits” were unusual—originally known as marguerite cookies, a favorite of Louisa’s in Troyes. But now, calling them “marguerite” had no relevance, so Louisa had simply named them after Jeanne.

She was indeed the first person in this world to make this type of biscuit, and she did it exceptionally well!

Among the guests at this afternoon tea, some were trying these biscuits for the first time. Just like when Helena first tasted them, they couldn’t help but exclaim, "So crisp, so light—even the lightest, cloud-like altar bread can’t hold a candle to these! Only the Queen’s kitchen could pull off something this amazing."

No surprise—these biscuits got lumped in with altar bread again...

Everyone continued to praise the drinks and pastries of the afternoon tea, especially those who had never had the chance to attend Louisa’s afternoon tea before and had only heard about it. They were even more excited—now, Louisa’s afternoon tea seemed to be evolving into a kind of court event.

Louisa treated afternoon tea as her personal time for rest and relaxation, so unless it happened to coincide, she rarely invited people specifically to join her. This, in turn, made attending her afternoon tea all the more coveted, drawing even more noblewomen to eagerly seek the opportunity.

"...Please pour me another cup," Louisa said while asking the attending maid to refill her tea. Today’s choice was honey-lemon chamomile tea, one of Louisa’s preferred teas during colder weather.

"What a lovely floral scent," the Duchess of Westminster remarked delightedly. As the tea was poured from the pot, the fragrance of chamomile blended with the sweetness of honey and the freshness of lemon filled the air.

"Is this chamomile? I’ve heard that you drink water steeped with dried chamomile—even the people of Mubhan know about it! Just the other day, Princess Meili of Mubhan mentioned it. It was originally just a wildflower, but now, thanks to you, it’s all the rage—they say drinking its infusion aids sleep and helps with pain relief and coughs. Is that true?"

"Who knows? I just drink it and find it quite soothing... To me, these things shouldn’t be taken too seriously. If you like it, drink more; if not, choose something else. There are plenty of other things that are good for the body, aren’t there? What’s most certain is that a happy mood is the best for one’s health," Louisa replied very sincerely.

The chamomile Louisa used for her honey-lemon chamomile tea was what later generations would call Roman chamomile (aka Roman chamomile). According to modern knowledge, it does have the effects the Duchess of Westminster mentioned. But whether it really works—or how much—who’s to say?