TL: Etude
Paul felt a surge of unease as he observed the fervent, almost envious gazes of his subordinates.
If he couldn’t deliver what they desired, would they unite against him and overthrow him, just like Malron’s father had been?
The officials from the Administration Council were manageable. Being from the civil service, they could be appeased with a combination of honorary titles and material rewards.
But what about the military leaders, those who had proven themselves in battle?
Of course, having been a lord for two years, Paul had led troops, fought wars, quelled lawless pirates, and contended with the arrogant Kent family. He had weathered many storms and, despite his internal fears, maintained a dignified deanor.
He pondered his next steps, maintaining a composed exterior.
Suddenly, a loud “snap” shattered the montary silence.
The sound drew everyone’s attention in the hall to its source.
Ladi Sertia Gerard, the green-haired female advisor and acting head of the Departnt of Education, slamd her notebook shut.
Standing up at a asured pace, the usually silent and note-taking advisor during etings suddenly beca the center of attention.
“Ladies and gentlen,” she spoke slowly, “the Count has announced the end of the eting. It’s ti for us to return to our duties.”
Her voice was calm but carried an indescribable authority, Paul noticed.
She nodded at Paul, “Lord Grayman, I take my leave.”
Then, picking up her notebook, she left.
“Ah, we should also take our leave!”
“We need to get back to work.”
Following Ladi’s departure, everyone got up and left the hall, though their expressions were sullen.
Paul was left in confusion.
They just… left?
What about the coup?
Ah, spit it out! Am I suffering from paranoia? Why would I doubt my (so far) loyal subordinates?
After sitting in his chair for a long ti, Paul had an epiphany.
It must be Ladi! She must have used so unknown thod to make the attendees leave obediently.
He had experienced Ladi’s abilities in the church at Port Fran, which she called “suggestion.”
What? Had Ladi evolved to the point where she didn’t need to glare through her glasses to suggest?
Was he already under her “mind control” without realizing it?
Wait, wait, wait, she just solved your problem, how can you suspect her like that?
Ah, right, a suggestion works only if the other person also thinks it’s correct. So, that ans…
Paul’s brain whirred into action, thinking of a solution.
He needed to choose soone loyal, who considered the bigger picture and had made significant contributions…
He made his decision.
…
“Achoo!”
Bryce, sitting in the first infantry battalion’s office, sneezed. Rubbing his nose, he continued to ponder the events at the end of the eting.
Really, could the Count have forgotten about that matter?
The news that the Grayman family had the right to grant fiefdoms spread quickly among the upper echelons, leading to much speculation.
Especially among the military leaders! Not to ntion that most of the high-ranking officers were generations of “knights” for the Grayman family. Since the Count’s accession, they had made significant achievents. �
Eliminating pirates, quelling the Baylding rebellion, defeating the watchful Kent family – these series of wars had expanded the Grayman family’s controlled population and territory several tis over.
Surely this counted as expanding and developing territory?
For achievents such as expanding territories, the most fitting reward was naturally granting the contributors a piece of land.
The thought of becoming a titled noble stirred even soone like Bryce. Previously, they were just unrecognized knights, but now, they had the opportunity to leapfrog to true nobility!
Bryce wasn’t greedy; he only desired five villages near his manor and a small forest. As for a title? A vicounty would suffice… no, a barony would be enough. Contentnt is important!
The prospect of having land and a title to pass down through generations excited Bryce imnsely.
Not only would it benefit his descendants, but it would also bring honor to his ancestors. His family could rightfully update their genealogy.
With his own lands, he would continue serving under the Count, and after growing old, he would retire there.
He fantasized about a carefree life, hunting with falcons, dogs… and omitted the last part of his thoughts.
Such an idyllic life!
“Report!”
A guard’s voice interrupted “Lord Bryce’s” daydreaming about the future.
“Co in.”
“The butler from the lord’s manor, Philip, is here to see you.”
“What? Quick, let him in!”
The white-haired but spry butler was soon ushered into the office.
Bryce rose to greet him. “Ah, Butler Philip, you could have sent soone to summon . I would’ve hurried over imdiately.”
Old Philip adjusted his glasses and smiled. “The Count himself sent .”
“Oh? Does the Count have sothing important?”
“Not exactly. He would like to invite you to dine with him at the manor at 7 tonight.”
“That’s an honor! Will there be others?”
Philip shook his head. “Not that I know of, you’re the only one invited.”
“What?”
Bryce was surprised but quickly composed himself. “Please tell the Count I’ll be there on ti.”
After respectfully seeing off the butler, Bryce felt a wave of excitent.
Lord Grayman invited alone!
What could it be for? He pondered, wondering if it was about the reward.
Lord Grayman didn’t invite anyone else, just him. Bryce felt a surge of excitent.
Indeed, apart from old Ford, he was the true backbone of the Grayman family, even ahead of Cecil.
Bryce was confident about this.
“I am the Count’s loyal hound,” he always believed.
He imdiately sent word ho that he wouldn’t be back for dinner and began preparing ticulously.
…
“Clank! Clank!”
Accompanied by the sound of tal friction, a peculiarly dressed figure approached the manor’s main gate.
He was called peculiar because he was clad in full knight armor – the kind that covers every inch from head to toe.
Such attire had long disappeared in Lakeheart Town since Paul reford the army and equipped them with firearms.
The Alda army still had tal armor, like breastplates and helts, but they were lighter.
More notably, the visitor wore a large red cloak on his back.
He seed like a character straight out of a knightly novel.
That’s what the manor guards thought.
As they approached to inquire, the “knight” removed his helt with a face shield.
“Lord Bryce?”
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