Agentle autumn breeze brushed against the gray canvas of the field tent, causing the edges to flap lazily in the morning sun. Standing at Lansius’s side, Audrey looked stylish in her tailored black dress. It was barely a few months old, a gift from Lord Bengrieve, their benefactor. Contrasting that, a worn belt adorned her slim waist, the same one that she had worn when they first met last year.

Lansius thought the black dye used for that dress was worth a fortune. He still couldn’t fathom why they treated Audrey so well. A tingle of suspicion was always on the back of his head. “Who told you I received letters? Calub?”

“I doubt anyone will miss fifteen mounted armed guards escorting two carriages,” Audrey replied as she continued to massage Lansius’s shoulder.

Lansius licked his lips and felt that he might be overreacting. Messengers from high-ranking nobles usually came with armed men for protection, which easily attracted unwanted attention. “I got two letters. One from Lord Bengrieve and another from Sir Stan.”

“What did they say?” Audrey asked.

“Sir Stan, your adopted brother, is praising us for our surprising victory. He also sent sizeable gifts to commemorate it.”

“I’ve noticed the fully loaded carriages. How about Lord Bengrieve’s letter?”

“That’s the tricky one.”

“I doubt it’s that bad,” Audrey said as she kneaded his shoulder.

“Well, he . . . congratulated me for a brilliant victory.”

“That’s a good start.”

“But he rejected my pleas to send one of his captains along with fresh troops to take over Korelia.” Lansius exhaled deeply.

“That means we’re not going back then,” Audrey said, surprisingly calm.

“You don’t look unhappy?” Lansius asked.

“Why should I? Better to reign on the farm than serve in a castle,” she said eloquently.

Lansius tried hard not to grin at the wise words. Her education in Toruna was showing its fruit.

“Is that all he said?” Audrey asked.

“He thinks I’m foolish for believing that Midlandia would want to endeavor into another Lowlandia territory. I guess the last thing they want is to open an even wider front . . . He also calculated that it’ll be hard to achieve peace, with all the neighbors at each other’s throats, thus requiring great manpower just to keep the peace. And all that for a province with nothing but a sea of grassland.”

“Go on,” Audrey encouraged. She sensed that the more Lansius spoke, the more at ease he became.

“Umm . . . since we won the battle and were able to make an interesting deal with Lord Robert, he instructed me to . . . rule and survive.”

Audrey’s fingers froze. “Rule?”

Lansius met her gaze. “He offered me this land if I could survive.”

She took a step back. “Lans, that means lordship. Korelia is a barony.”

Lansius tried to downplay the issue. “The title may sound grand, but while the land area is huge, Korelia’s worth a mere fraction of Sir Stan’s Toruna. It’s all bark and no bite.”

“Did he really offer you that?” she asked again.

He looked up briefly, gathering his thoughts before revealing, “Attached to the letter is a vellum bearing the seal of the Lord of Midlandia. It’s a duplicate of a recommendation letter for patent to the High Court.”

Audrey gasped and covered her mouth.

Clutching his fur coat tighter, Lansius added, “I don’t know what Bengrieve’s scheme is, but that’s what he’s offering.”

Barely recovered from her surprise, Audrey tapped Lansius’s shoulder. “You realize it’s still a grand offer?”

“A grand prize for a grand risk,” Lansius quipped. “Lowlandia’s feuds run deep. Everybody has a claim to another’s land. Soon, they’ll be knocking on our door with a siege engine.”

Audrey seemed to struggle to find a response as Lansius continued. “That Bengrieve is dangling a prize in front of his pet and waiting to see whether I’ll bite or not.”

Dangling a morsel in front of a mongrel was a known proverb in Midlandia. It meant that it was likely a ruse, because the master would always eat it and leave only scraps for the pet. Still, Audrey sensed something was amiss. “Lord Bengrieve is taunting you.”

Lansius caught her eyes. “Even if he isn’t, my hands are too small for a prize like this. It’s unthinkable to defend Korelia against a siege without reinforcement from Midlandia.”

“I say we risk it,” Audrey declared.

Lansius chuckled but went quiet after sensing her serious gaze.

“You’re making ditches and fences, also inviting blacksmiths, carpenters, fletchers. Don’t tell me you didn’t come prepared,” she pointed out.

A hint of a smile was on Lansius’s lips. Noticing that, Audrey leaned closer and whispered, “I know your ambition too well, my lord.”

Lansius blushed at her words and tried to refute them. “You know well that I just want a peaceful place to live,” he said.

Audrey played along with his game. “You still thinking about returning to village life?”

“I have to say that I still fancy the idea,” Lansius admitted. “No politics, no responsibility, no guilt.” To live as a hunter in a distant village like Torrea was Lansius’s go-to escapist imagination.

But Audrey didn’t share his enthusiasm. “I only see hardships,” she remarked grimly. “Hunting weekly, butchering game, stitching my own torn cloth. Stuck in rainy seasons and only visiting town a few times a year for supplies.”

Lansius chuckled at her answer.

Undeterred, Audrey continued. “I’d rather live in a big city with a servant who does groceries. But then, I prefer to eat out when the weather’s nice. Also, watch plays or go to the festival,” she finished with a smile. “Trust me, I’ve been there. Secluded life isn’t fun.”

Lansius couldn’t help but tease her. “And what about cooks? You often say it’s a necessity.”

“Indeed,” Audrey replied. “I need someone who can indulge me with a variety of seasonal dishes for lunch. Glazed fire pit roast for supper. And don’t forget a maid who’ll help this lady bathe and dress.”

The image of this stiff-faced cavalry captain being pampered like a princess sent Lansius into a fit of laughter. Normally, Audrey would hit him when he laughed at her expense, but this topic turned out to be an exception. Audrey looked proud of her jest, even delighted.

Despite his laughter, Lansius felt that Audrey’s dream was justified. She had gone through so much in her life: been driven out of her family, lost her knight master, and been a victim of war twice, even almost sold into slavery.

“How about marrying a baron?” Lansius teased.

“I hope not one of the small barons who till the land and shear sheep,” Audrey replied almost deadpan.

The image of himself dressed in gaudy clothing, wielding shears against a flock of sheep made Lansius laugh. “All title, no substance,” he exclaimed as if venting out frustration.

Audrey happily added, “All glitter, but not gold.”

Their shared laughter reflected a deeper understanding between them.

Afterward, the wind picked up again, causing the canvas above them to flap noisily. Feeling the chill in the air, Audrey signaled their entourage in a separate tent to ready the horses. She then turned to Lansius with her last concern: “Was the battle that hard on you?”

Lansius tried to shrug it off, but the memories were still fresh in his mind. “The battle was gruesome,” he admitted. “But what shocked me the most was the aftermath.”

This memory triggered a wave of guilt inside him. Around forty had fallen in battle, but almost a hundred had died after from blood loss, infection, and gangrene. Despite Calub’s stockpile of alcohol, Lansius’s knowledge of sanitation, and his order not to perform bloodletting, they still lost that many.

“I seriously think that you got sick because you exerted yourself too much,” Audrey disagreed.

“Is that so?”

“You were doing so many things, taking care of the wounded, also the deal with Lord Robert.”

“Well, there are so many things to do. Our men need treatment, supplies, and housing. And I certainly couldn’t treat Lord Robert and his men badly, since I wanted them as allies.”

“See? You’re doing too much,” Audrey replied warmly. “Next time, put more faith in your subordinates. After all, it’s not your first time leading men into battle.”

Lansius felt a weight on his mind. “You know, the first time I led men into battle was against slavers, and I didn’t pity them. But the last time . . . I don’t hold any grudges against the Lion and his men.”

“Lans, we’re not fighting without a cause,” Audrey reminded him. “The end goal is to get our home back. That’s as noble as it gets.”

Lansius disagreed with her take but realized that modern values were not always applicable in this feudal world. He reminded himself that Audrey was born and raised in this society. Still, he tried to explain his stance. “Trampling on others who are not our opponents to advance our cause isn’t exactly noble.”

Audrey almost laughed. “Nobles fight, and men die all the time for lesser causes. A little blood on our hands is tame compared to them.”

Lansius understood that Audrey was merely pointing out the reality, but he couldn’t help feeling a churn in his stomach. “I’m not heartless. Witnessing men die haunts me.”

“You’re a softie, you know,” she remarked.

“Sorry, but not sorry.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it badly.” Audrey turned to face him. “I mean, I actually like it that way.”

Her words surprised him.

“What’s the word . . . ? Ah, compassionate heart! Perhaps you’re the rare kind of noble who could rule with one,” Audrey remarked, teasing him gently.

“I take that as a compliment?”

“Rightly so, my lord,” Audrey exclaimed, bearing a rare, cute smile.

Lansius noticed a squire, a pageboy, and a cup-bearer girl coming from a smaller tent in the distance, leading the horses.

“Can’t we choose older candidates?” Lansius asked, feeling bad for employing underage children.

Audrey shook her head. “They’re the lucky ones. Their parents fought hard to put them into your entourage. And that was before Lord Bengrieve said anything about making you a baron.”

Lansius looked Audrey in the eyes. “Do me a favor, even if I’m a lord, call me by my name as usual.”

“Not possible, my lord. At least not in front of people.”

As her hair swayed in the wind, Audrey continued, “You know, the locals speak ill of the wind. They believe it carries diseases and miasma.”

Lansius nodded. Even with his fur coat, he wasn’t feeling all that well. “You’re right. Let’s head back.”

Without waiting, the two walked toward their entourage.

In the first month of fall, 4424, Lansius declared himself as the new Lord of Korelia, claiming the support of Midlandian nobles. This news spread quickly, and Lord Robert of White Lake confirmed the transfer of ownership and pledged his support to Lansius.

Lord Robert’s support was driven by his own predicament. As a fallen lord, he and his house faced the possibility of ruin or exile. Even if Robert had escaped to his castle, life would not have been the same. His own nobles would betray him and plan to oust him from power.

Lansius’s decision not to imprison or exile Robert and his loyalists came as a surprise to Robert, and he knew it was his house’s last chance to survive in Lowlandia politics. In their struggle, Robert and his loyalists grew to rely on Lansius’s mutual support.

This bond was further strengthened when Lansius made generous terms, allowing Robert to rule nominally as the Lord of White Lake. This was in stark contrast to the brutal takeovers often seen in Lowlandia.

Lansius’s aim was only to claim a portion of White Lake’s income instead of ruling directly. To ensure submission, he integrated a portion of Robert’s men-at-arms and stationed them in Korelia. He also incorporated neighboring estates owned by Robert’s knights to gain their service.

However, Lansius was not the only one making moves. Behind the harvest and festivities, the seeds of conflict were being planted and set in motion in the shadows.

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