The morning after the competition dawned lazily over Tarenfall, golden light pooling across tiled roofs and wagons still loaded with half-eaten turnips and abandoned ribbons. Eren stood outside the farmstead, arms crossed, looking like soone who'd just survived a war made of vegetables and unwanted attention.
Mira was already up, humming as she swept the porch, clearly still riding the high from yesterday's chaos. "You're a local hero now," she teased, not even bothering to hide the proud grin tugging at her lips.
"I planted a glorified zucchini and smiled at the mayor. That's not heroism. That's PR," Eren muttered. "Also, my shoulders still hurt from all the back-patting. Do nobles have a training camp for that?"
Lira flickered into view beside him, arms folded, deadpan. "Analysis: your social discomfort level is at 87%. Impressive resilience."
"It's called shutting up and nodding. Very advanced skill."
Eren didn't expect much from winning second place—he was fine with the gold and the property, obviously—but he also hadn't expected the wave of attention. The girls from the competition had all taken turns dropping by to deliver congratulatory gifts that were just a bit too fragrant, soft-spoken, or suspiciously wrapped in lace.
Cael the Rootmaster had sent him a crate of glossy turnips that spelled Nice try in carrots.
Helena of Hearthglen had mailed him a glowing herb bouquet. They still pulsed at night like a cursed lava lamp.
And Mila of Suntrail? She sent a polite note and a basket of perfectly symtrical strawberries. The note read: Let's dance again soti—your rhythm was adorable.
Eren wanted to bury himself in compost.
Ciel, however, had been different.
She'd visited him late the night of the celebration, once the crowd had thinned and the wine had stopped flowing. She ca alone—no guards, no servants—just her black gloves, silver-blonde hair, and a strange softness in her eyes.
He rembered her words clearly.
"You surprised , Mr. Eren. I expected you to be resourceful. I didn't expect you to be charming."
Eren had blinked. "...I assure you, that was accidental."
She had smirked, touching the brim of his hat before leaving. No long speech, no veiled threats—just... interest.
And now he had to deal with the fallout.
They were back to work, thankfully. The competition might've changed how the town saw him, but weeds still grew, chickens still pooped, and the soil didn't care if you'd kissed victory on the cheek.
"Lira, status update."
Her blue eyes blinked to life, scanning the hovering system panel. "Current Funds: 132 Gold. Land Tier: Upgraded to Basic Tier 2. System Perk Unlocked: Green Thumb."
Eren raised an eyebrow. "Green Thumb?"
"Allows for a 10% increase in growth speed and 15% yield when you tend to plants directly. Additionally, unlocks subtle plant empathy."
"Plant empathy? Like... I can talk to my tomatoes now?"
"Not talk. Feel. Don't get dramatic."
Mira peeked over his shoulder, leaning in far too close for Eren's emotional safety. "You're glowing a little. System perk?"
He slamd the panel shut. "Nope. Just heartburn. From too many victory cabbages."
She giggled, brushing a speck of dirt from his sleeve. "Well, you do look a little more... farr-y today."
Eren squinted at her. "That better not be a euphemism."
By midafternoon, things had settled. Mira was helping with irrigation layout, humming tunelessly and sohow managing to splash more water on herself than the plants. Eren was bent over a patch of stubborn lettuce, whispering dark threats, when footsteps approached.
Ciel stood at the fence.
This ti, she wasn't alone. A small retinue of city guards waited behind her, but none moved without her word. Her posture was straight, her expression unreadable.
Eren stood, brushing dirt off his hands. "Governor. Didn't expect royalty today."
"Neither did I," she replied, voice light. "But I thought it proper to congratulate Tarenfall's new agricultural prodigy in person."
"Again? You already did that. Very mysteriously, I might add."
She stepped forward. Mira quietly stepped back, her eyes darting between them.
"I didn't just co to repeat myself. I ca to make an offer."
Eren blinked. "Is it marriage? Because I'm very flattered but also slightly terrified."
Ciel snorted. "No. Not yet."
She pulled a rolled parchnt from her coat and handed it to him. It bore her seal.
"It's a grant proposal. For land expansion, better irrigation tools, and import rights to specialized seeds. You'd be the first farm in the region with access."
Eren opened it, scanning quickly. "That's... generous. Why ?"
Ciel's gaze was steady. "Because you've already shifted the town's attention. People are talking. They believe in you. I believe in efficient investnts. And honestly—"
She paused.
"—I'd like to see what you do next."
Behind them, Mira watched with soft eyes and a furrowed brow.
That evening, under a sunset painted like wine and fire, Eren sat alone in the field. The plants around him were silent, but sohow... content. Like they knew the soil had just beco sothing more.
Lira appeared beside him, cross-legged and floating a few inches above the ground.
"You're in a spiral."
"I'm thinking."
"Sa thing."
Eren looked up. "Is this how it starts, Lira? The kingdom-building thing? Not with conquest. Just... compost and curious won?"
Lira raised an eyebrow. "Statistically, that's how 41% of sim-based empires begin."
He chuckled. Then sighed.
"I just wanted to plant so damn beans."
"And now you have emotional lettuce."
He lay back, arms behind his head, watching the stars blink into existence.
And sowhere in the field, a tomato vine nudged a bit closer to his boot.
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