“Then let’s prepare a meal while we discuss. You won’t be able to eat properly once you leave, so make sure to fill up here.”

Squeak, slam!

“A-a-aristocrats…”

As soon as the door closed, Romandro clenched his neck and grumbled. This kind of behavior might actually give rise to prejudice against the real frontier counts.

Ian started to go through the documents Romandro had been reading, one by one.

“The prices are one thing, but the list doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Exactly. There are hardly any staple crops.”

In anticipation of a harsh winter, what they needed were staple crops with short harvest cycles and relatively abundant yields. But what Merellof offered were high-end ingredients that only nobles would consume.

“Ridiculous. Could it be that relations with Dergha aren’t good?”

“I can’t say for sure about that. But apart from that, the trade itself will likely be unpleasant.”

They were hard-pressed for food, and now an advisor from the Imperial Palace had arrived, further depleting their resources. Furthermore, due to the battle in Bratz territory, they had unknowingly suffered losses.

“Some had tried to flee to Merellof during the battle. A steward from the Bratz estate was beheaded here too. The people here couldn’t leave during that time…”

Unable to gather firewood in the forest, unable to hunt, unable to gather fruits. Trade would have been affected as well. While they couldn’t know exactly what difficulties they faced during their isolation, they could guess.

Romandro let out a grumbling, pained noise as he massaged his head.

“Advisor.”

“Hmm?”

Ian tapped the table gently and then slowly called Romandro. In fact, Ian had other options even if they didn’t procure food here.

“It may be presumptuous, but I estimate the subsidy to be about 3,000 gold coins. Is that correct?”

“Well, I can’t disclose that, as it’s a sensitive matter.”

“I know of a much more valuable way to use that money than buying dairies and olives here. If you trust and follow me, that is.”

Ian had four bags of seeds from the grula plant, known as a divine blessing for eradicating famine.

Compared to other staple crops, it had an overwhelmingly short cultivation period, abundant yields, and nutritional value.

Why would they spend this money buying such items here when they have access to such a perfect food source?

“What are you talking about?”

“We can’t waste precious subsidies sent from the Imperial Palace like this. This is wasteful and, beyond that, it’s extravagant.”

“I agree, but what other options do we have?”

Ian threw the documents aside as if they were worthless and pushed them away. He then asked Romandro’s subordinates to check if anyone was eavesdropping. As they stepped into the corridor, Ian whispered softly.

“I intend to buy something else here.”

“Something else? What?”

“People.”

Romandro’s eyes widened in surprise.

“…Slave markets are only held centrally. Is Count Merellof actually hosting one here?”

“No, that’s not it. I mean to buy labor.”

Even if they don’t spend all 3,000 gold coins, it would be more than enough, Ian whispered. Completely clueless about what Ian meant, Romandro alternated his gaze between Ian and the proposed transaction documents, contemplating deeply.

“Lend me your ear for a moment.”

With a sly grin, Ian whispered into Romandro’s ear about grula’s existence. Romandro’s complexion changed gradually, as if he couldn’t believe it, but only for a moment.

* * *

“Are you simply leaving?”

“Yes, my Lord. Let’s consider the deal null and void.”

Count Merellof glanced at the food spread out on the table. Contrary to his earlier statement that they would prepare something extravagant, the table was filled mostly with meat stew—a meal commonly enjoyed by commoners that left no room for waste.

The count twirled his mustache and grimaced slightly, “I guess you’ve had your fill.”

“Shall we escort you out?”

“It’s settled. Just be casual about it.”

Publicly, he didn’t turn away from helping them. It’s just that they chose not to accept it. Count Merellof was worrying about what to do if they agreed to trade for that price.

‘Soon, the Cheonrye tribe, who can’t withstand the cold weather, will leave, and there’s no way to avoid everyone starving to death.’

The reason why Merellof ruled like a king in the frontiers was primarily because the domain was far removed from the imperial palace’s attention.

Physical and psychological distance meant that whatever happened, the imperial palace would remain unaware.

But what if someone from the imperial palace took over the lordship of Bratz?

‘Damn it. Just thinking about it…’

For the neighboring domain of Merellof, being in sight of the imperial palace would be the same. Rather, it would be better for Merellof to occupy Bratz. Geographically, there’s the burden of dealing with barbarians, but that’s much better than having the imperial palace as a neighbor.

The Count walked briskly to check below the window. Near the front gate, Ian and the advisor were seen standing in front of the carriage. The two were facing each other, engaged in conversation.

* * *

“Perhaps they don’t like the mere presence of someone from the imperial palace in Bratz.”

“It would be burdensome to have them as neighbors.”

“Ethically, there are problems, but that’s not really an issue, right? Once you die, ethics don’t matter.”

Due to the distance, Count Merellof did not realize that he had been precisely read by Ian. After pondering for a bit, Romandro nodded his head in agreement, finding the statements reasonable.

“Right. That makes sense. I hadn’t thought that far.”

“By the way, isn’t the butler running late?”

“The count must be busy wrapping up some matters.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, he probably won’t see us off.”

Ian murmured as he fidgeted with his pocket watch. Having confirmed Merellof’s stance, all that was left was to return to the fiefdom and introduce grula to Romandro.

“Oh my.”

At that moment, a woman emerged through the garden’s back door. She was a noblewoman with platinum blonde hair, tied up and adorned with all sorts of fancy decorations.

“…Countess Merellof?”

“Ian! So you are Ian?”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Hiding his disconcerted expression, Ian greeted her by touching her hand lightly. Unlike Count Merellof, she was a vibrant woman. He had presumed her to be a middle-aged peer like Mary, but she was considerably younger.

“I’m Rien Merellof. So, you’re leaving already? Why not stay for a meal?”

The lady was younger but in every way outranked Ian and Romandro. It was an obvious hierarchy, and Ian didn’t mind. Though he felt her manners were somewhat lacking.

“We’re grateful for the Count’s invitation, but we have a mountain of work and can’t stay. Maybe another time.”

Chwaak

Countess Merellof fanned herself gracefully, offering an inscrutable smile. Ian and Romandro exchanged puzzled glances. Why is the Countess acting like this? Something about the atmosphere seemed off.

‘A dress out of season, and some misaligned gazes…’

It was the kind of impression one should avoid if met in an alleyway. An impression not easily obtained from a graceful countess.

“Advisor?”

“Ah, it’s Romandro.”

“It’s an honor. I thought I never heard your name.”

“My apologies.”

“Is this all your party?”

She asked, twirling her fan with a gentle motion. Half of their company had already left for the city center to recruit the ‘people’ Ian had mentioned.

“We sent them ahead as we might be delayed. We are waiting for the butler.”

“Ah, I see. How is the Bratz territory faring? My husband never tells me anything about it.”

“Yes, thanks to your husband.”

“Ho ho ho. And there’s something I’m curious about.”

“Please speak, my lady.”

Countess Merellof approached with her fan hiding the lower part of her face. The servants seemed to close both their eyes and ears, bowing their heads.

“Who is using Lady Mary’s room?”

“Lady Mary’s room?”

“You see, there’s something I couldn’t return to her.”

Softly. As if telling him to lower his voice, the tone of Countess Merellof dropped. Ian recalled Mary’s final moments and sighed.

“Ah.”

Countess Mary, who had said that there was something helpful if taken to Merellof, did not specify what it was. Considering she mentioned it until the moment she left the house, it mustn’t be something easily lost.

Countess Merellof’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Ian.

“Hm? Is the room still intact?”

“…It should be. No one really goes in there. Feel free to visit anytime.”

“Is that alright?”

“Of course. The room has lost its owner, so who would say otherwise?”

Countess Merellof’s eyes curved in satisfaction at Ian’s words. Just then, the butler came out carrying a small box, and the lady turned her head as if nothing had happened.

“My lady?”

“What about the Count?”

Satisfied with Ian’s answer, the Countess’s eyes crinkled. At that moment, the butler emerged holding a small box, and the Countess turned her head as if nothing had happened.

“My lady?”

“The guests are leaving. Where is the Count?”

“Ah. He finds it difficult to leave due to sudden business. He sends his apologies to the guests, and this is a small token of goodwill from Merellof. He also said that if there’s anything we can help with as a neighboring estate, to let him know.”

As the butler gave a polished bow, the Countess chuckled, covering her mouth with her fan. The butler has a knack for smoothing over the Count’s blunt words. Ian nodded as he received the box.

“Please convey my thanks.”

“Very well, then. Ahem.”

Romandro briefly greeted everyone and climbed onto the carriage. As they left through the main gate, the Countess couldn’t take her eyes off them until the very end.

Clip Clop

“So, what’s this ‘token of goodwill’?”

“Judging by the smell, it seems like dried meat.”

“Good heavens, it seems the rumors about the frontier have some basis.”

The rumors they refer to are societal prejudices that border nobles are crude and barbaric. Noticing that Ian understood the meaning, Romandro checked that they had distanced themselves from the mansion.

“The Countess is quite peculiar too.”

“I didn’t expect her to be so young. I thought she’d be around the same age as Countess Mary.”

“The Count seemed a bit older; is this his first marriage?”

“I’m not quite sure about that…”

“Never mind. Now, tell me in detail. You said there is a crop that’s about a month away from harvest?”

Romandro eagerly leaned in closer to Ian. To think that there was such an extraordinary crop here that he had never heard or seen of before!

So, there’s a saying that to see the center of the world, go to the capital, and to see the changes in the world, go to the frontier.

“Where did it come from? The desert? Ah, it must be resilient if it grows in the desert. What’s its name? What do you call it?”

“You, Advisor-nim, should also know.”

“Huh? Know what?”

“Grula.”

“… Grula? The weed Grula that I know of?”

Ian gave a subtle smile, but disappointment was clearly written all over Romandro’s face. The thought that he’d been fooled seemed to fill his mind.

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