“...even after I just meticulously memorized all the regional land surveys and every individual complaint raised by our citizens,” Francesca continued, her tone suddenly shifting into that of a deeply saddened, young, and helpless maiden. She dropped her gaze slightly, looking fragile. “I understand now that sending every single person a personalized, handwritten reply to address their concerns was perhaps just immature handling on my part... I clearly have so much left to learn from the wisdom of the council.”
“Y-you... you memorized all of the information on every single person present here?” Lord Edward stammered, completely stunned by her claim.
Francesca nodded, acting increasingly self-deprecating. “Yes... for instance, like how Mister Rangle sitting right over there operates a 607-square-meter chicken coop. His baseline output averages 1,200 eggs and 150 kilograms of chicken meat a month, but he has been facing severe issues with multiple stray cats sneaking into his facility from the nearby dumping grounds.”
She smoothly pivoted her gaze to another section of the crowd. “Or like how Mistress Ginveru owns a 304-square-meter coop with a steady yield of 700 eggs and 80 kilograms of poultry meat a month, and she recently filed formal complaints about the chapel’s morning bell tolls causing severe stress to her flocks.”
Francesca effortlessly picked out individual faces from the packed crowd, detailing their specific, highly personal economic metrics in the span of a single breath.
Lord Edward stood frozen, utterly paralyzed by her rapid-fire recitation of precise data regarding people he hadn't even known existed until today. After all, to an elite noble like him, these were just simple, faceless peasants. He glanced around frantically, only now noticing that practically every single citizen in the courtyard was indeed clutching a neatly folded, handwritten document in their hands.
The two citizens she had named were staring at her in absolute shock, their expressions quickly melting into profound gratitude and satisfaction that the Viscountess had taken the time to personally understand their struggles. It was the exact same sentiment sharing across the crowd. Every resident who held one of her tailored response letters, complete with practical suggestions to solve their neighborhood complaints, now glared at Lord Edward with open hostility.
This is bad... incredibly bad... Lord Edward thought, sweat breaking out on his bald head.
He opened his mouth, desperately trying to find a way to pivot the narrative back in his favor, but Francesca didn't give him a single second of breathing room.
“Therefore, I will be stepping down immediately, just as Lord Edward has so wisely suggested,” Francesca announced to the crowd, a subtle, invisible smirk playing behind her sorrowful mask. “The Vassal Council, which has clearly read your files and carefully noticed each and every one of you for decades, will undoubtedly serve as a far superior advisor than me: an inexperienced, crippled girl who is just trying her absolute hardest but failing completely flat.”
She looked down at the audience, her voice dripping with mock humility. “Everyone, please, make the Vassal Council your advisor. They will be vastly more efficient with their vast manpower and administrative resources.”
In her mind, Francesca chuckled. Thanks to the perfect recall carried over from my past lives, I didn’t actually have to sit down and grind a single thing into my memory last night. I could instantly recall every single drop of text I merely glanced at on those survey forms and complaint sheets back when I was checking the logistics in my first life when I handled stuff from the capital.
Lord Edward clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He could easily tell from the vicious, dark whispers circulating through the crowd that the members of the Chicken Association were on the verge of a riot. Francesca’s display of unparalleled dedication was something the Vassal Council had never shown the common folk in the last fifty years. If she stepped down right now under his pressure, it would make the council look like the absolute villains of the territory!
Clearing his dry throat frantically, Lord Edward forced a loud, sweating laugh. “No... no! Your Ladyship, please, you don’t have to do that at all! The Vassal Council, as a heavy administrative body, has an immense slate of complex territorial tasks to oversee; we won't realistically be able to dedicate ourselves to this project with the same incredible, in-depth care that you can! You see... I merely meant that the council should perhaps join the project as a co-advisor alongside you, not that you should step down from your role entirely...!”
Edward was practically begging. After Maria’s massive embezzlement incident and the ruthless rent hikes the lords had enacted after, the citizens' trust in the council was already hanging by a thread. If the Viscountess stepped down right now after showing such unprecedented personal care to the poor, the council's public reputation would completely tank beyond salvation.
He caught sight of Miller standing near the edge of the stage, his massive frame imposing, and Edward forcefully gulped.
Lord Miller will clearly use this incident as political ammunition to criticize our incompetence in front of the public. It will give him more than enough legal justification to officially trigger the dissolution process for the entire council! I absolutely cannot let that happen!
“Whatever do you mean by that, Lord Edward?” one of the nearby citizens shouted out, completely devoid of fear. “You very clearly implied that Her Ladyship should step down from her position! We all heard it with our own ears. You explicitly stated that you spoke on behalf of the entire Vassal Council as well!”
Another farmer quickly joined in, crossing his arms. “Come to think of it... Lord Edward, you aren’t a member of this association, nor did any of us ever send an invitation to you. How exactly did you get here? Isn't crashing a private citizen assembly completely an overreaching of the council’s authority?”
“Exactly! He didn’t even offer a single constructive opinion on the coop before going straight to attacking Her Ladyship's competence! It’s almost as if sabotaging her was the sole reason he showed up here today!”
The voices in the crowd multiplied, overlapping as the commoners discussed the true meaning behind the noble's arrival, seeing right through his flimsy excuses. Lord Edward just stood there, sweat pouring down his neck as he scrambled to find a way to say something, anything to regain control.
“Wait, didn't that horrific embezzlement incident from a few months also involve multiple high-ranking members of the council?” a woman in the back row called out, shifting the narrative entirely. “I heard a rumor that they literally trapped poor orphans and forced them to do their dirty bidding!”
Thanks to Edward's blunder, the entire discussion completely fractured, shifting away from the community coop topic to aggressively dissecting the corruption of the council as a whole.
“I heard they were actively working against Her Ladyship by colluding with Miss Maria! This entire thing is so incredibly suspicious...”
“ENOUGH! HOW DARE YOU PEASANTS!”
Lord Edward completely exploded, his aristocratic pride snapping under the weight of his mounting embarrassment and fury. He glared at the crowd, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. The courtyard instantly went dead quiet, the citizens gasping in sudden fear of what a powerful noble might do to them in retaliation.
However, before Edward could utter another threat, a voice cut through the air with a fierce, razor-sharp edge, resounding across the courtyard.
“That is a question I should be asking you, Lord Edward. How dare you.”
Lord Edward froze, completely stunned. In his blind panic to suppress the commoners, he had completely forgotten that Miller was standing right there. He realized with sickening clarity that he had just dangled raw meat right in front of a hungry lion's mouth, with absolutely no shield to protect himself.
“Does the Imperial Charter not strictly guarantee our citizens the explicit right to criticize advisory councils and their reigning lords?” Miller asked, taking a slow, heavy step forward.
His stern expression carried a suffocating wave of pure battlefield bloodlust, an aura far too heavy for a pampered noble like Lord Edward to handle. Edward's chest heaved as he began breathing heavily, his knees shaking from sheer, unadulterated fright.