Chapter 17

"What, what do you want me to do?"

Daniel's eyes, confused, grew even rounder than Frieda's. As he hastily pulled back his shoulders, Frieda, who had moved closer by the distance he had retreated, pointed to her forehead.

"Come on, Duke. Feel here. My fever has gone down."

Seeing no sign of Daniel moving, Frieda, unable to bear it any longer, pulled his left hand and brought it to her forehead.

"Right? No fever, right?"

After repeatedly confirming, Frieda smiled brightly and moved away from Daniel. She had felt a bit lighter since waking up, but she didn't expect her fever to have gone down. It seems the medicine given by Anton is finally taking effect. If it was going to go down so easily, why didn't it go down sooner? Why did it make her waste so many days? She was already busy to the point of exhaustion. Frieda quickly turned her mind to the tasks at hand. First, the advance payment to the Turk merchant should be 50,000, no, 30,000 ducats should be enough. Half of the remaining balance can be paid after inspecting the condition of the bulbs, and the other half can be paid after confirming that the bulbs bloom properly in the spring. The trial cultivation of the precious bulbs will start in the farmland created within the city walls. There is still an area on the eastern hillside where herbs have not been planted, so this fall, I'll plant the bulbs there first. The most urgent task is to gather workers to finish the logging by fall. To speed up the work, at least three to four times more people are needed than now. With sufficient funds, I need to gather as many as possible. Although Utrecht has a warmer winter compared to other regions, it's still difficult to cut trees in the winter. There's also the risk of waking up hibernating animals, which could endanger the workers. To create the farmland as soon as possible, the easiest method would be to use slash-and-burn agriculture. It's cheaper and attractive in many ways, but once the land is burned, it won't last long. It might not be possible to farm the next year. Therefore, it's best to clear the land and cultivate it, even if it requires money and time. Spring is already halfway through. To develop the mountain outside the city and create a village and farmland before the frost sets in, I need to hurry. With a busy mind, Frieda kept glancing at the key on the side table. She knew her fever was gone after feeling her forehead, but she was anxious because her husband wouldn't give her the key. Frieda reminded him of the promise he had made.

"Sir, you said you would come to find the key when my fever went down, right? Do you remember?"

Daniel, who had been staring at her restless blue eyes, slowly nodded.

"Yes."

"Then could you please give me the key now? I'm in a real hurry, Sir."

Her slender, white fingers, clasped on her skirt, fidgeted anxiously. Her white wrists, as thin as her fingers, would also be white under the sleeves, unseen. The skin visible between the half-torn collar might be as soft and delicate as that.

'Huh, what a fool.'

Daniel laughed hollowly at the absurd thought that had momentarily crossed his mind. It was more like a bitter laugh. He had built a wall in his mind, yet he had let his thoughts wander at her request. Daniel handed her the key.

"A Turk merchant came to the city, didn't they? Are you going to do business with them?"

Frieda, who had quickly taken the key, nodded with a smile.

"Yes. I agreed to give them an advance payment for the bulbs I'll plant this fall before they leave the city."

"Bulbs?"

"Yes. They say there's a flower in Turk that can only be planted in the royal garden. Interestingly, if you plant the bulbs in the fall, they spend the winter underground and bloom in the spring. The shape of the flower is exactly like..."

Frieda raised her arm and demonstrated by wrapping a cloth over her head.

"It's said to resemble the turbans worn by the Turk merchants. You've seen them, right? The cloth they wear on their heads like a hat."

Frieda, gripping the key tightly, her white skin showing the knuckles, spoke with sparkling eyes.

"The flowers come in various shapes and colors and are sold at an exorbitant price in Turk. The rarer the color, the higher the price."

Her lively eyes and energetic voice conveyed that she genuinely enjoyed this project.

"The trend from the East will inevitably spread to Svergen. If we succeed in cultivating these flowers in the duchy, we will become incredibly wealthy! Just wait and see. Utrecht will become the wealthiest and most livable fief in the Svergen Empire."

Daniel found it hard to understand Frieda. Why? Why was this such a cause for happiness? What did it have to do with her if the duchy became the best land in the empire? He himself... might not live to see that day. Unable to voice this, Daniel asked a somewhat foolish question.

"Do you like it here?"

"Of course. Naturally, I love the duchy."

The answer came instantly without hesitation. Yes, she must love it. She must be working so hard because she loves it. Pouring money to gather people, helping them settle, and ensuring their roots grow strong. If she didn't love it, why would she, with her frail body, work so hard? No matter how much more they talked, he would never understand her, just as he never understood his mother's relentless love for his father. Daniel stood up to end the conversation. At that moment, a delicate voice, like morning dew on a willow leaf, trembling precariously, held him back.

"Sir, I also... I really like you."

***

"Mother, this is too..."

Emperor Leopold Bolshchak II hesitated before speaking.

'Cruel.'

No, 'Heartless' might be better. To convey the raw feeling, 'Vile' might be fitting.

"Heartless."

The word he finally chose might be appropriate to give to his mother, but it fell short of expressing his true feelings. However, the Empress Dowager seemed satisfied.

"Fortunately, if the Emperor feels this way, Daniel must have accurately understood my intentions."

Who could fail to understand a mother's intentions? Leopold couldn't stick out his tongue in front of his mother, so he rubbed his face irritably.

"My brother, who nearly lost his life standing up to the Duke of Nottingen for me. Instead of holding a celebration for his safe awakening after three years, you send a spy."

The Emperor's voice grew louder, but the Empress Dowager showed no sign of being moved.

"Have you forgotten? How much the royal family was criticized for my brother's marriage to the daughter of the Harkbon Count. The noble character my mother had built up was destroyed in an instant. Are you going to repeat the same mistake?"

"At least I don't have to pretend to be a kind mother anymore."

'You are still quite repulsive, even now.'

Leopold swallowed a bitter cup of tea to keep from saying it. There was a time when he, even as her son, was almost fooled by her kindness. The one who pushed him to overthrow his uncle, Robov III, and seize the throne was his mother. The Svergen royal family, where blood ties intertwined, was surrounded by relatives. Following his mother's wishes, Leopold cut down his blood relatives one by one to finally ascend the throne. He did it to survive.

Women, mothers, are truly terrifying. The Emperor shivered, feeling a chill. The Empress Dowager Margaret, unaware of her son's inner thoughts, calmly filled the Emperor's empty cup with red hibiscus tea.

"I don't understand why the Emperor dislikes the Viscount Boild. Utrecht is a poor fief, both in terms of its lord and its lady. The Viscount Boild will be an excellent steward to restore the discipline of the unruly duchy."

"And a loyal dog to the royal family, reporting on every move my brother makes."

The Empress Dowager nodded calmly at the Emperor's indifferent response.

"A mutually beneficial arrangement."

Well, if the Viscount Boild doesn't die at the hands of those ruthless mercenaries. His relentless mother would continue to send others to the Duchy of Rihard if the Viscount Boild dies. It might be faster to hope that his brother, who is unexpectedly calm, doesn't cause any trouble.

"Hmm."

Taking a deep breath, Emperor Leopold walked to the window to avoid the stifling conversation with his mother. The garden of Schendal Castle, where spring had arrived, was filled with colorful flowers. His eyes were drawn to the purple flowers that resembled roses but were not, at the entrance to the dense forest. They were the flowers that his mistress, the Countess of Butten, Patricia, loved. If she hadn't been expelled from the royal family, she would have been buried in those flowers.

'What was the name of that flower again?'

Leopold furrowed his brow, trying to recall the clear voice of his mistress, who chirped like a nightingale. The name came to him like a flash of lightning, along with the scent of flowers that entered through the window.

"Ricinus."

A name with a similar lazy feeling to the spring breeze, like his mistress. Patricia... She was a good woman. Why did she have to provoke my mother's temper? Tsk. Feeling a great sense of loss, he gave her the land of the childless Duke of Jensbach and often visited under the pretext of hunting until recently.

'Now that it's spring, maybe I should visit.'

The place was close to Utrecht, so he could also see his brother, who had awakened after three years. Having made his decision, Leopold wiped away the uncomfortable expression on his face and turned back. He needed to please his mother, who disliked the Emperor leaving Schendal Castle for a while.

"I'll write to my brother. If I tell him I'm sending a steward I've carefully chosen for his frail wife, he won't kill him, right?"

The Emperor, who was holding a quill, suddenly looked at his mother with a thought.

"Mother, about the daughter of the Harkbon family who married my brother. Wasn't she seventeen when they got married?"

"Perhaps. Why do you ask?"

If that's the case, she would be twenty this year... Didn't they say all the daughters of the Harkbon family died before that? Leopold leaned his face on his hand, holding the quill.

"Is that woman really alive?"

***

It seemed that the courage of the Duchess of Rihard wasn't just used for searching her husband's room. After quickly and boldly confessing her love, Frieda's cheeks turned red in an instant. If this state continued, it would be reasonable to point out that her fever had returned and take the key back. Would she take back this sudden confession then? The gaze that reached the much smaller woman seemed expressionless and dry, but in fact, Daniel was confused. Because of his wife, who was as confident as a victor returning from an unfavorable battle.

"I really wanted to say it. It might seem a bit rushed, but it's true that I really like you, Duke."

Having heard the same confession twice, it was impossible to pretend not to know. Knowing it was a foolish question, Daniel still asked.

"Why? I didn't realize you knew me well enough to feel such emotions."

"Knowing too much about you might make me dislike you."

That's wise. Daniel was genuinely impressed by his clever wife, who had already realized that the more she knew about Daniel Rihard, the less she would like him. Just as he was about to admire her, a fresh smile, like spring sunlight, flooded his eyes.

"To me, tomorrow is an unknown time that may or may not come. So I live for today."

Crossing the line he had drawn.

"Today's Frieda is confessing to today's Duke."

A strong sunlight that seemed to pierce the wall he had built.

"I like you."