“Mrh...”
Francesca let out a cute, contented sound, nuzzling her face deeper into Miller’s bare chest as the bright morning sunlight began to filter into the room and hit her face.
“Morning, sleepyhead...” Miller murmured softly, planting a loving kiss onto her forehead as she slowly blinked her eyes open, a radiant smile forming on her lips.
“Don’t you have to officially address the Vassal Council about Lord Edward today? What are you still doing lying here in bed?” Francesca murmured drousily, still clinging tightly to his chest, her bare skin pressing warmly against his.
“What? Did you actually want me to slip away before you even woke up after last night?” Miller asked, acting mock-hurt.
Francesca chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling. “Honestly... I was fully planning to hold it against you and trouble you for a lifetime if you did choose to leave early.”
“You really do enjoy troubling me, huh...” Miller whispered. Shifting his weight, he playfully pinned her down beneath him against the mattress.
Francesca gasped for a brief second, but a bright giggle quickly followed. “The sun is already out, Miller! We will be late!” she pouted, bringing her palms up to gently cup his cheeks.
“That’s... true. We both have important responsibilities to attend to. We really do need to get up and get ready for the day, but...” Miller trailed off, trailing a line of soft kisses down her jawline and onto her neck, before slowly working his way downward.
Francesca didn’t do a single thing to physically stop him; after all, she was thoroughly enjoying the affection herself.
“You know, we can be efficient about this,” she whispered, a clever thought striking her. “We won’t be late, while still being able to spend some time together this morning...”
Reaching her chest, Miller paused his kisses for a split second and looked up, blinking. “How?”
Francesca smirked, tightening her legs securely around his waist. “We can simply get ready for the day together.” She pulled his face down, giving him a deeply passionate kiss. Smiling into the embrace, Miller easily lifted her up into his arms, carrying her toward the adjoining bathroom so they could wash up together.
Splash... Splash...
The grand bathtub overfilled slightly, sending a small cascade of warm, steaming water splashing onto the stone bathroom floor as both Miller and Francesca entered the tub together. Francesca settled comfortably onto his lap, facing him. Dipping a soft scrub into the soapy water, she began gently wiping down his muscular arms, her body pressed closely against his chest.
“So, what exactly do you intend to do with Lord Edward?” she asked curiously, moving the scrub smoothly up toward his shoulders.
Reaching out to softly play with a strand of her silver hair, Miller answered, “I have a plan for the council. The current circumstances have actually turned out to be rather handy... I think you will thoroughly enjoy what I've managed to come up with.”
Once Francesca was finished scrubbing him down, Miller took the cloth from her hands. Turning her around smoothly, he began wiping her back, starting from her neck and moving down in slow, relaxing strokes.
As he worked, he casually noted, “Oh, yeah... I just remembered. I received a message from a messenger bird early this morning. It seems your brother, Ivan, has arrived in the North.”
As the cloth was moving down her spine, Francesca half-turned her body to look back at him, her eyes wide with slight shock. “What? So he is already here?”
A Tavern, Ironwood Viscounty
“Have you heard about the Chicken Association assembly yesterday?” one of the miners from the local gemstone mine commented to his friend, slamming his wooden mug down onto the table.
“Yeah, I heard all about it,” the second miner replied, shaking his head. “It’s disgraceful how the council openly disrespected the citizens, and how His Lordship had to personally step in to come to our defense.”
“Not only that, but practically everyone in the town square is talking about how bluntly opposed the council was toward Her Ladyship, especially after she personally suggested to organize those charity food camps,” a third man chimed in, pulling up a stool to join the two miners. He lowered his voice, adding, “I actually arrived late to the meeting myself and saw firsthand what a terrible hindrance Lord Edward was being. He even openly insulted the entire crowd!”
“My, I always knew Lord Miller and the council had been locked in a constant political tug-of-war, but I didn’t think it would be this severe!” the second miner added.
“Of course it is! Lest we forget, Lord Miller used to be a commoner mercenary before His Majesty formally bestowed the noble title upon him,” the man who had just joined pointed out. “From Lord Edward’s arrogant display yesterday, it’s clear as day how those highborn snobs must truly view His Lordship behind closed doors!”
“That must be the exact reason why Her Ladyship specifically suggested the new coop be entirely community-run by ourselves,” the first miner realized, nodding aggressively. “The Lord and Lady are actively looking out for us, putting the poor first so we don’t get caught up in their nasty politics!”
“To be completely honest, I didn’t have a very good view of Lord Miller originally,” the man who joined admitted. “After all, nothing seemed to change in the territory even after he took over from the previous lord. But looking at the grander scheme of things, the root cause of our stagnation must have been the council constantly standing opposed to his every move!”
“Remember the orphan embezzlement case from a few months ago?” the first miner yelled, completely drunk now, his face flushing red. “His Lordship caught three prominent vassals red-handed. While we are out here freezing and having trouble surviving the brutal northern winters, they are actively stealing our hard-earned money!”
“What’s even worse is that the vassals serve as the primary landlords for many of our rental homes. They have been aggressively increasing our rents ever since that embezzlement case came to light! Do you have any idea how much I'm forced to pay now?!” the second miner added bitterly.
Public opinion on Lord Miller has taken quite a sharp, favorable turn, huh...
Randell, the former butler of the estate, sat just a few inches away, quietly nursing his drink while listening to the heated discussion of the drunken laborers.
“That will be 36 Shella,” the tavern waitress said, placing his refill down on the table.
Randell reached into his pouch and counted out the coins, paying her silently. He let out a bitter, internal sigh. Most of the money I managed to secure from selling out Alan Hevel’s letter to Lord Miller has already been spent by now... I'm going to run completely dry at this rate.
He stared into his mug, his mind spinning with the rumors he had gathered. I still maintain a few secret connections with the LeonCraft estate staff, thanks to my past dealings with Miss Maria... and from what I’ve managed to piece together, the young Lord Ivan is currently traveling directly to the North. Given the timing, it must be for the upcoming Moon Light Day festival.
Randell muttered the realization under his breath, when suddenly, a brilliant, dangerous spark of inspiration flashed in his eyes. His lips curled into a smirk.
What if I sell this intelligence about the public opinion directly to Lord Ivan when he arrives in the North? Better yet, I can double down on my profits, I can send an encrypted report to Alan Hevel back in the Capital using my old courier connections there...
He stood up from his table, his heart racing with excitement as the massive web of profit links formed in his mind. And then... I can turn right around and sell the information regarding Lord Ivan’s location and Alan Hevel’s current activities in the capital straight to Lord Miller for another premium fee.
Placing a small tip on the wooden table, Randell turned and began walking out of the noisy tavern, chuckling quietly to himself as he stepped into the cold night air.
“Maybe... just maybe, I have a true, natural knack for the information trade...” He felt his realization felt like he was on the verge of a new beginning of sorts.