Chapter 544: The Price of One Percent (Patreon)

Kenway Keep — Western Private Wing — Philadelphia

"'Laric, my nephew… it's good that I managed to see you. I need to talk to you."

Alaric looked from Linette's face to the ledgers stacked against her chest, then slowly toward William Penn, whose expression brightened with the unmistakable satisfaction of a man realizing someone else had arrived to occupy Alaric's morning.

"You look far too pleased," Alaric muttered.

William settled more comfortably into his chair and lifted his Celestial Tea. "I have just been granted a lifetime supply of excellent products and am no longer the person carrying the largest pile of paperwork into this room. My morning has improved considerably."

Linette crossed the sitting room and lowered her ledgers onto the table with enough care to spare the porcelain, though the resulting weight still made the cups tremble.

"Damn…" Alaric stared at the stack. "How long have I been ignoring Celestial?"

Linette pulled out the chair beside William. "Would you prefer the polite answer?"

"No."

"Too long, 'Laric"

William hid his smile behind his cup.

Alaric pointed toward him. "You have your own governmental disasters."

"Which I actually attend."

"..Tsk."

Linette sat down and began loosening the ribbons around several packets. "Good. If the two of you are finished behaving like brothers who have been left alone without supervision, I have several weeks of financial, production, inventory, and distribution reports to cover."

Alaric leaned back. "Several weeks?"

"You have been physically present during parts of those weeks," Linette clarified as she opened the first ledger, "but between Vanguard, Spain, France, shipbuilding, military inspections, your other projects, and your habit of disappearing, your useful involvement in Celestial's daily operation has been intermittent."

William looked toward Alaric.

Alaric frowned. "I dislike how accurate everyone has become today."

Linette ignored him and turned the ledger around.

At first glance, the pages resembled the ordinary accounting records Alaric had read thousands of times over the years. Columns tracked production, domestic allocation, export inventory, contracts, expected revenue, warehouse movement, damaged goods, returns, wholesale orders, and transportation costs.

The scale was what made them extraordinary.

Alaric's amusement faded as he read. "These are quarterly numbers?"

"No," Linette answered.

His eyes lifted.

"These are attached to the current major inventory cycle."

Alaric looked down again and William leaned forward as well.

Linette allowed them several moments before beginning. "Celestial has reached the point where I no longer think describing it as a Pennmerian company properly conveys what it is. Pennmere remains the center of production, ownership, research, financing, and administration, but the customer base is global now."

She pulled out a folded trade map and spread it across the table. "The largest foreign customers are currently the Qing Dynasty, the Ottoman Empire, the Mughal Empire, and Russia."

William's gaze moved across the marked routes stretching from Pennmere through Atlantic ports and onward through intermediary commercial networks.

"How large is large?" he asked.

Linette selected another report. "Large enough that losing any one of them would affect shipping schedules across multiple Pennmerian ports."

Alaric whistled softly.

Linette tapped the Qing figures first. "Medicine, preserved provisions, tea, hygiene products, sauces, dental goods, and several luxury lines are moving east in quantities we once would have considered impossible. The Ottoman and Mughal markets are similar, although the relative product mix changes by region. Russia's appetite for preserved goods, Salve, tea, tobacco products, and winter-use hygiene supplies has grown especially quickly."

William glanced toward Alaric. "And here I was feeling guilty about buying too much."

"You should still feel guilty," Alaric replied.

Linette's mouth twitched. "His Majesty is barely noticeable compared with foreign governments."

William immediately looked vindicated.

"Come on now, aunt," Alaric frowned. "Don't encourage him."

Linette turned to another page, where two countries had been marked in red. "France and Spain, however, receive nothing directly."

Alaric nodded. "Good, that's a given anyway…"

"They have noticed."

"I would hope so."

"France noticed immediately. Spain noticed faster."

William set his cup down as Linette produced several intercepted commercial reports.

"Both governments, along with private buyers, military hospitals, aristocratic households, and merchant consortiums, have been attempting to purchase Celestial goods through third countries. Celestial Salve is the primary target."

Alaric's expression became more serious.

That made sense. Even ordinary Celestial Salve could transform battlefield medicine by the standards of the eighteenth century. In a continental war where infection, blood loss, burns, damaged tissue, and untreated wounds killed enormous numbers of soldiers, reliable access to a Pennmerian healing product was more than commercial convenience… it was strategic.

"How much markup?" Alaric asked. "The other countries would be stupid not to increase the price."

"In some cases, several times the official export price," Linette answered. "One intermediary believed French buyers were desperate enough to tolerate almost anything."

William's brow furrowed. "Were they?"

"For a while."

Alaric caught the wording. "Were."

"Don't worry," Linette smiled. "We sent out the warning."

William looked between them. "Which warning?"

Linette folded her hands atop the ledger. "Any government, commercial house, merchant consortium, or major port authority knowingly reselling Celestial products to France or Spain would lose access to Celestial Brand."

"Goodness me…" William's eyebrows rose."Entirely?"

"Entirely."

"No Salve?"

"None."

"No tea, hygiene goods, provisions, dental products, tobacco, or even sauces?"

Linette shook her head. "Nothing carrying the Celestial name."

"I'll be damned," William slowly leaned back. "That is vicious."

"I won't disagree," Alaric smiled. "But that's very efficient."

Linette nodded. "And it worked."

She traced several of the largest trade routes.

"The Qing have no particular reason to care whether France obtains Salve, but they buy too much from us to risk being cut off. The Ottomans reached the same conclusion. So did the Mughal commercial authorities and Russian buyers. Smaller states and trading houses followed because losing Celestial access for the sake of one profitable resale arrangement would be commercially idiotic."

William stared at the map. "So countries that are not allied to Pennmere are enforcing your embargo for you because the cost of violating it is too high."

"Essentially," Linette said.

Alaric's smile deepened.

William noticed and immediately raised a brow. "Do not look so pleased."

"I haven't fired a cannon."

"That is precisely why I find this somewhat frightening."

Linette sighed before she turned the page before either man could derail her briefing. "Now, individual products."

Alaric settled deeper into the chair. "Salve first?"

"Obviously, it's the very first Celestial product after all."

The figures Linette placed before him immediately justified her confidence.

"Celestial Salve remains one of our strongest lines. Wartime demand has changed how foreign buyers perceive it. It used to be treated primarily as an extraordinary medical luxury. Now governments are categorizing it as strategic inventory."

She ran one finger down the contracts.

"Armies want it. Navies want it. Hospitals want it. Merchant houses want emergency stock aboard long-distance ships. Wealthy families continue purchasing it privately, and several foreign governments have begun trying to establish permanent reserve levels."

Alaric studied the inventory depletion rate. "We're going to need more production."

"We already expanded."

He looked at her.

"Twice."

His brows rose.

Linette continued before he could comment. "Celestial Tea remains enormously profitable, although some of our oldest domestic markets are approaching the point where growth is slowing simply because most households that can afford the premium lines already buy them."

William lifted his cup.

"I see no problem."

"You are not a representative consumer," Linette replied dryly.

Alaric laughed as William looked offended.

Linette continued, "Bernard's Hot Sauce is expanding aggressively abroad. Leonard's Instant Ramen is doing even better in regions where merchants value food that stores well, transports easily, and can be prepared with very little fuel."

"That one always had ridiculous potential," Alaric remarked.

"You said that when Leonard first proposed expanding production."

"I'm occasionally wise."

"Occasionally."

Alaric stared at his aunt.

William smiled into his tea.

Linette flipped several pages. "Toothbrushes and Toothpaste continue growing steadily. Shampoo, Beauty Masks, Liquid Soap, and related household goods are increasingly normalized among upper-class foreign buyers, while Pennmere itself is experiencing the opposite transformation."

Alaric tilted his head. "Meaning?"

"What began as luxury is becoming ordinary."

She slid a domestic survey across the table.

"In Philadelphia, Boston, New York, Bristol's Pennmerian-linked households, and several other developed markets, many families no longer think of toothpaste, toothbrushes, shampoo, soap, or preserved convenience foods as indulgences. They simply expect to have them."

William looked impressed.

"That happened quickly."

"Prosperity does that," Alaric murmured as he examined the figures.

Linette nodded. "Which creates another problem. Domestic growth eventually slows when everyone who wants a product already owns or regularly buys it."

"So we push lower-cost versions."

"That is one option."

"Foreign expansion."

"Another."

"New products."

Linette gave him an approving look. "And greater penetration into ordinary households abroad instead of treating wealthy foreign customers as the entire market."

Alaric nodded.

That was a different stage of business entirely.

Celestial had begun by selling impossibilities at luxury prices.

Now some of those impossibilities were becoming habits.

Linette turned toward two reports near the bottom of her stack. "Then there are Liquid Soap and Premium Cigars."

Alaric immediately recognized the names attached. "Reuben and Thulani's."

"Yes."

He expected the poor numbers he remembered. Instead, Linette slid both reports across the table.

Alaric raised a brow before he read the final inventory lines twice. "Sold out?"

"Essentially."

He looked at her.

Linette gestured toward Eleanor's name beside several operational approvals.

"Reuben and Thulani have not abandoned their divisions, but between Vanguard command and the war, expecting either of them to manage production schedules, foreign orders, pricing, warehouses, and distribution continuously became ridiculous."

"So you stepped in."

"Eleanor and I stepped in."

Alaric's eyes moved between the pages. "And turned the two weakest lines into sellouts."

Linette shook her head. "Do not exaggerate. We did not magically make them the strongest products in the company. We stabilized management, corrected inventory allocation, adjusted distribution, and stopped orders from sitting unanswered simply because their managers were occupied with military matters."

William looked toward Alaric. "Which proves your wife's earlier point."

Alaric frowned. "Which one?"

"That things keep functioning without you."

"That theme is becoming insulting."

Linette smiled faintly. "The more important lesson is that Celestial itself can now compensate when an individual manager becomes unavailable."

She closed those reports and opened the thickest ledger.

"Now we reach the part you are going to pretend does not surprise you."

Alaric leaned forward. "I don't like that introduction."

Linette rotated the ledger.

At the bottom of the page, beneath pages of projected sellout values, stood a number large enough that William initially assumed he had read it incorrectly.

$719,984,375.00

Silence settled over the room.

"…"

William leaned closer.

"…"

Then farther back.

"…"

Then closer again.

"Is that…"

"Yes," Linette said.

William looked at her. "For the Celestial company?"

"For the projected gross revenue if the current major Celestial inventory sells completely."

William turned toward Alaric.

Alaric, on the other hand, was already calculating. His lips moved faintly while his eyes narrowed.

"Seven hundred nineteen million, nine hundred eighty-four thousand, three hundred seventy-five dollars," William said slowly, as though speaking the full amount might make it more reasonable… and of course, it did not.

"That is almost three-quarters of a billion dollars."

Alaric scratched his jaw. "Huh…"

William stared at him. "Huh?"

"It grew."

William's face became incredulous. "That is your reaction?"

"I'm processing."

"You agreed to lend me one million dollars fifteen minutes ago as though I had asked for lunch money, and now I understand why."

Linette waited until William's outrage had subsided before turning one page.

"And now we remove the part that does not belong to Celestial."

Alaric immediately looked suspicious.

William's mood improved.

Linette pointed at the Royal Charter tax calculation. "Fifteen percent."

Alaric sighed.

William smiled broadly.

"Why are you smiling?" Alaric asked.

"I am the government."

"You personally are not receiving this."

"I can still enjoy it."

Linette continued with impeccable calm. "Projected Commonwealth tax obligation at complete sellout is one hundred seven million, nine hundred ninety-seven thousand, six hundred fifty-six dollars and twenty-five cents."

William stopped smiling before he looked down, then back up.

"How much?"

Linette repeated the figure before William stared at Alaric.

"My old friend," Alaric leaned back smugly. "You're welcome."

William pointed at him. "You have not paid it yet."

"Technicality."

Linette continued before they could begin another argument. "After the fifteen-percent Royal Charter obligation, Celestial retains projected after-tax proceeds of six hundred eleven million, nine hundred eighty-six thousand, seven hundred eighteen dollars and seventy-five cents."

Alaric nodded slowly.

"So the money is still mine."

Linette looked at him.

William's smile returned.

"No," Linette said.

Alaric blinked. "I own Celestial."

"You own Celestial. That does not mean every dollar inside the company should be removed and placed in your pocket."

"I know that."

"You said, 'the money is still mine.'"

"Technically—"

"Hahahahaha…" William started laughing.

Alaric looked toward him. "You were asking me for money earlier."

"That makes this better."

Linette tapped the ledger. "Factories require expansion. Workers require wages. Farms require capital. Ships require maintenance. Warehouses require construction. Raw materials require purchasing. Research requires financing. Foreign distribution requires reserves, and wartime commercial risk means I would like substantially more liquidity kept inside the company than you historically considered necessary."

Alaric held up both hands.

"I understand retained earnings."

"I know you understand them. I also know your first instinct is to ask whether they still count as yours."

Alaric smiled sheepishly.

"They do."

Linette sighed.

"Yes, because you remain the sole equity owner. Celestial Brand is one hundred percent yours."

William watched the exchange with visible enjoyment.

Linette continued, "The managers have profit participation. They do not own equity."

She opened another sheet.

"The existing arrangement allocates one percent each to six established managers: myself, Caroline, Eleanor, Bernard, Leonard, and Aveline."

Alaric's attention sharpened.

"One percent each of eligible after-tax distributable proceeds."

"Yes."

Linette tapped the first calculation.

"Using this cycle as the example, one percent equals approximately six million, one hundred nineteen thousand, eight hundred sixty-seven dollars and nineteen cents."

William nearly inhaled his tea.

"One percent?"

Linette nodded.

"Each?"

"Yes."

William put his cup down very carefully.

Alaric stared at the number.

"That used to sound like a generous little bonus."

Linette raised an eyebrow.

"Little?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I would genuinely like to hear you explain how six million dollars became little."

Alaric wisely declined.

Linette continued. "Collectively, the six-percent managerial pool would receive approximately thirty-six million, seven hundred nineteen thousand, two hundred three dollars and thirteen cents."

Her finger moved lower.

"That leaves approximately five hundred seventy-five million, two hundred sixty-seven thousand, five hundred fifteen dollars and sixty-three cents inside Celestial Brand, representing ninety-four percent of after-tax proceeds."

Alaric nodded.

"So ninety-four percent stays mine."

Linette closed her eyes.

William laughed outright.

"Company," Linette corrected patiently. "Ninety-four percent remains inside your company."

"Which I own."

"Yes, 'Laric."

"One hundred percent."

"Yes."

"So—"

"Do not."

Alaric grinned.

Linette stared at him for another moment before pulling out the final report as her humor faded.

"This is where the structure becomes a problem."

Alaric noticed immediately.

"What?"

"The six people receiving participation are no longer the only people doing managerial work."

She placed three names on the table.

Reuben.

Thulani.

Edward Kenway.

Alaric's expression became thoughtful.

Linette rested her forearms against the table.

"Reuben still carries responsibility for Liquid Soap and shares oversight involving ration-related products, even though Vanguard consumes most of his attention. Thulani remains responsible for Premium Cigars and associated operations while spending increasing amounts of time on military duties."

She touched Edward's name last.

"And Edward is no longer merely helping."

William raised a brow.

Linette explained, "He is involved in Caribbean distribution, shipping contacts, commercial intelligence, movement of tea and dental products, informal merchant networks, and several logistics arrangements that directly affect Celestial sales."

Alaric nodded slowly.

"That sounds managerial."

"It is managerial."

"And they receive no one-percent participation."

"No."

Alaric leaned back.

"In case you misunderstand," Linette watched him. "I am not accusing you of intentionally underpaying anyone. The problem is that Celestial grew while the arrangement remained informal."

She pushed a new calculation toward him.

"If Reuben, Thulani, and Edward each receive the same one-percent participation beginning with a future distribution cycle, the managerial pool rises from six percent to nine percent."

William read the next figure aloud.

"Fifty-five million, seventy-eight thousand, eight hundred four dollars and sixty-nine cents."

Linette nodded.

"Nine managers collectively, using the present cycle as an illustration."

"And Celestial retains?" Alaric asked.

"Approximately five hundred fifty-six million, nine hundred seven thousand, nine hundred fourteen dollars and six cents."

Alaric calculated mentally.

"Ninety-one percent."

"Correct."

He stared at the names.

Linette gave him time.

Then she said, "The actual issue is not whether the company can afford three more percentage points."

Alaric looked toward her.

"The issue is when a person earns one."

William's expression became more serious.

Linette continued, "When Celestial was smaller, promising someone one percent sounded generous but manageable. Now one percent from a single major inventory cycle can exceed six million dollars."

She tapped the paper.

"We cannot keep deciding this casually over dinner."

Alaric's mouth opened, but Linette raised one finger.

"No."

So he closed it, making William Penn smile.

Linette continued, "We need a formal participation rule. Does one percent begin immediately when someone becomes a manager? After a probationary period? After completing a full sales cycle? After meeting performance requirements? Only when you personally designate them?"

Alaric's eyes remained on the figures.

"And no equity."

"Correct."

"Ever?"

Linette considered that more carefully. "That is a different question. Under the current structure, no manager owns any portion of Celestial. If you ever decide to change that, it should be a deliberate equity decision rather than an accidental consequence of profit participation."

William finally leaned into the conversation.

"This is no longer merely a private-family accounting matter."

Alaric looked toward him.

William gestured toward the ledgers covering the table. "Your company is about to owe the Commonwealth more than one hundred million dollars from one projected inventory cycle."

Alaric smiled. "Still thinking about that?"

"I am the King. Of course I am thinking about that," Penn's expression became serious. "Celestial employs Pennmerians. Its ships overlap with wartime logistics. Its Salve affects survival rates. Its factories support industrial capacity, and its commercial embargo is influencing the behavior of foreign states."

Linette nodded.

"That is exactly why I came."

William looked toward Alaric.

"A poorly considered Celestial decision can now become a government problem even if the company remains privately owned."

Alaric did not argue.

That realization had been forming throughout the report.

Years ago, Celestial had been another brilliant way to make money while introducing modern conveniences into a world technologically unprepared for them.

Now foreign governments shaped trade policy around continued access to its products.

Pennmere collected more than a hundred million dollars from a single projected cycle.

Millions of consumers had built daily routines around products his family manufactured.

His company could deny medicine to enemies, reward neutral states for respecting Pennmerian policy, alter shipping patterns, finance industrial expansion, and make six million dollars of compensation appear as a one-percent managerial allocation.

Alaric slowly looked across the room.

The fire had burned lower.

William's abandoned government reports occupied one side of the table.

Linette's Celestial ledgers consumed the other.

The symbolism was difficult to miss.

Government and company had become enormous at almost the same time.

Linette leaned back.

"You cannot keep managing Celestial through personal promises."

Alaric sighed. "I had a feeling this was where you were going."

"You do know you disappear multiple times."

"That sounds accusatory."

"It is descriptive."

William covered his mouth.

Linette continued, "You become occupied by Vanguard. You become occupied by war. You vanish into matters nobody can ask about. Meanwhile, Caroline has Tea orders crossing oceans, Bernard is expanding Hot Sauce contracts, Leonard is trying to keep Ramen inventory ahead of demand, Eleanor and I are rescuing divisions whose managers are fighting Spain, and Edward has somehow become a commercial manager while still behaving as though he is merely a pirate doing favors."

Alaric's mouth twitched. "That does sound like Edward."

Linette, however, did not smile.

"We need structure."

Alaric looked down at the figures again.

For once, his first instinct was not to resist bureaucracy simply because bureaucracy irritated him.

Linette was right.

Celestial had outgrown the arrangement he built when one percent sounded like a generous reward among family and trusted partners.

Now one percent could create dynastic wealth.

A casual managerial appointment could carry compensation larger than the fortunes of European aristocrats.

He tapped Reuben's name.

"Future cycle."

Linette's eyes sharpened.

"Meaning?"

"If we add Reuben, Thulani, and Edward, it begins with the next qualifying distribution cycle. We don't rewrite a cycle already being accounted under the six-person agreement."

Linette nodded slowly.

"That is defensible."

"And before then…" Alaric looked at the remaining reports. "We write the rule."

William smiled faintly.

Linette did not quite allow herself to look satisfied. "Finally."

Alaric pointed at her.

"I heard that."

"You were intended to."

He shook his head before leaning back and studying the nearly three-quarter-billion-dollar gross projection one more time.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

William glanced toward him.

"What?"

Alaric looked around at the ledgers.

"I leave for a few weeks of scattered attention, and somehow my soap company becomes geopolitical infrastructure."

Linette stared at him.

"Celestial has not been a soap company for years."

"I know."

"You own banks, Medicine, Food factories, Ships."

"I know."

"International distribution networks."

"Yes, Aunt Linette."

"And you just called it a soap company."

"Huh…" Alaric smiled. "It annoys you."

Linette slowly reached for one of the thick ledgers and William immediately laughed.

Alaric eyed the book in her hands. "You wouldn't."

Linette smiled pleasantly.

"I have managed this company while you were gone, nephew. Do not test me."