“Maybe you should... do something, Your Ladyship?” Stella asked tentatively.
Francesca was currently rolling around on her bed, deep into the climax of a romance novel. She paused, resting the book against her chest, and looked up at her maid. “What do you mean by that, Stella?”
“I... I mean, it has been an entire week,” Stella said, concern written all over her face. “Miss Maria is still in charge of every household affair, and you haven't stepped out of this room. I fear that if this continues, the servants might never respect you as the true Lady of the House.”
Francesca offered her a mysterious smile. “Who said I am doing nothing? I am doing exactly what I need to be doing.”
“Hmm?” Stella tilted her head, looking utterly confused.
Francesca leaned against her pillows and sat up, her expression turning sharp and focused. “Before we arrived at the Viscounty, Miller told me he would handle the household affairs in my stead. He was worried his aides and vassals wouldn't trust me yet, being a LeonCraft and all.”
She set the book aside. “So, I proposed a little deal.”
Her mind drifted back to the hallway a week ago, the night they arrived. The rhythmic thump of her cane had echoed as Miller escorted her to her room.
“I want you to wait,” Francesca had said, her arm linked firmly with his. “Don't ask your aunt to hand over her authority just yet.” Miller had looked down at her, confused. “Why? This is the perfect chance for me to get the rights, isn't it?”
“Think of it as a gift,” Francesca had replied with a playful glint in her eyes. “A reward for rescuing me from my crappy family. I’m going to show you something... interesting.”
“You really don't have to give me anything,” Miller smiled warmly as they reached her door. “If anything at all is uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he had added, his voice full of sincerity.
…
…
“Actually, there is something,” Francesca had replied, her smile widening. “I am glad to have such a respectful husband. I was just going to say... my turn never came when we were playing in the carriage.”
Francesca snapped back to the present, a satisfied smirk dancing on her lips as she looked at Stella.
“Now then... a week has already gone by. I think the timing is perfect.” She sat up fully, the "lazy shut-in" persona vanishing in an instant, replaced by the calculating mind of a woman ready to live differently compared to her two previous lives.
“Stella,” she said, her voice dropping into a commanding tone. “Send word to His Lordship. Tell him I would like to play my turn tonight.” with that Stella left.
As Stella walked toward the main study, she found the heavy oak doors slightly ajar. The voices of Miller and his vassals echoed down the hall, growing clearer with every step. The air in the corridor felt heavy with the tension bleeding out from the room.
“The construction plans for the two new roads have been delayed again!” a man’s voice roared, thick with frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening after we went through so much trouble to secure the funding.”
Another vassal let out a weary sigh. “His Lordship had to accept Duke LeonCraft’s deal specifically because we needed the funds to build those roads. We need a way to import food, medicine, and vital supplies without relying on a single mountain pass. But now? Even the one road we do have is under the Duke’s priority use.”
“Even so,” the vassal continued, his voice straining, “we should have been able to start construction with the remaining funds. But the prices of raw materials in the neighboring territories have suddenly spiked by multiple folds!”
“And whose doing do you think that is?” a woman’s sharp, elderly voice cut in.
Miller’s voice followed, calm but laced with a cold edge. “I sent men from the mercenary troop to gather intel from the towns beneath the mountain. It’s confirmed: Nobles in cahoots with Duke LeonCraft have bought up the local supply of stone and lumber. They’ve even employed every available builder in the region just to drive the prices out of our reach.”
“Duke LeonCraft again!” the first man shouted, the sound of a fist slamming against the table echoing into the hall. “It’s as if the Second Prince’s faction wants us to stay helpless!”
“That is precisely what they want,” Miller replied. “A war hero aligned with the Third Prince is a threat to them. They intend to keep us in check by sabotaging our growth until we are nothing but a hollow shell.”
The elderly woman spoke again, her tone analytical. “But they can’t outright eliminate His Lordship. The Second Prince has the wealth, but almost no military power compared to the First Prince. We are their buffer.”
“And by marrying Lady Francesca,” another aide added, “the LeonCrafts are now his in-laws. His Lordship won’t be able to refuse a request for military aid if the Duke asks. It’s a perfect trap, the First Prince won’t attack the Second Prince's faction if they think they'll have to face Lord Miller’s mercenaries.”
Just as the aide finished his piece, a soft but firm knock sounded on the door.
Stella entered the room, feeling the weight of a dozen suspicious glares. Miller looked up from a map spread across the table. “What is it, Miss Stella?”
Stella bowed respectfully. “Her Ladyship has sent word, My Lord. She is asking if you are free after the meeting to visit her. She wishes to play her turn in the game you started previously.”
A few snorts and scoffs broke the silence of the room. To the vassals, the idea of playing games while the territory was strangling felt like an insult. But the room went silent the moment Miller leveled a sharp, warning look at them.
He turned back to Stella, and for the first time in the meeting, a genuine smile touched his face.
“Tell her I shall be there. I am free as soon as we conclude here.”