Chapter 28
Marian Hall, at the heart of Munheim Castle, was said to have been designed by 'Margrave Munheim,' the former lord of Utrecht, for his wife, 'Marchioness Marian Munheim.' The beautiful tale of the margrave couple, who cherished and adored each other deeply, had ended over a century ago, but traces of them lingered throughout the castle, waiting to be discovered. For instance, graffiti on the kitchen wall like 'My love Marian gave birth to our first child today.' The castle, tended with their mutual affection, had grown somewhat eerie over time, but the kitchen remained warm thanks to the hearth that had been stoked just moments before. A plate of dried ham, Adel's special sausage, and bread was set before Frida, who sat awkwardly. Unable to even ask what it was, she stared blankly with wide eyes. Daniel handed her a glass filled with something.
"Eat first. Adel was worried that you hadn't had proper dinner."
A few days ago, the mint-flavored liquor he recalled drinking had drawn Daniel to the kitchen, where moments earlier he'd endured the head cook's nagging disguised as concern for the lady.
"Without Madam, this castle would be nothing but cobwebs. Oh dear, how can words express all that hardship? Now that the lord has awakened, she could finally live comfortably. But how can a frail woman still be so busy?"
In short, it meant stop overworking your wife and do your part as her husband. Compared to most women who wouldn't dare utter a word before Daniel, the head cook was remarkably bold. Her liquor-making skills weren't half bad either. Thirsty, Frida lifted her glass and gulped down a few sips before looking at Daniel with puzzled eyes.
"This is……."
"Water. As I told you. The Duchess should stay away from alcohol."
Whatever expectation she'd had, disappointment filled her eyes, her lips pouting out. Daniel turned his drowsily blinking eyes forward and sipped from his own glass filled with liquor.
"What brings you to the kitchen at this hour?"
Frida quickly chewed and swallowed the mouthful of sausage before answering.
"Th-Thirsty. Forgot to have water brought to my room. Kek."
Frida gulped water down her blocked throat and pounded her chest with her fist, ending with a burp. She whipped her flushed face away and pounded faster. Why of all days and times did she come to the kitchen now? How embarrassing. Grumbling silently, her mouth gaping wordlessly, her face scrunched up.
"Why did you build hearths in the castle?"
At her husband's sudden question, Frida stopped pounding her chest and turned to him. Daniel, with a calm expression, had twisted his body toward her on the right and was gazing at her.
"Hearths?"
That one right in front of her? Pointing to the hearth in the corner of the kitchen, Daniel elegantly shook his head.
"No. The communal hearths you built inside the castle walls. So the duchy residents could use them freely."
"Ah, those? Well…… there were several reasons."
Slowing her chest-pounding, Frida pondered her answer, rolling her eyes this way and that. Her purple eyes, blending mysteriously with the lantern light on the table, rolled over her white sclera. Daniel had no idea what thoughts filled that small head or the extent of knowledge packed inside. He'd been amazed countless times riding Valzak around the territory. He'd doubted his eyes multiple times at the completely transformed duchy compared to when he'd left to suppress the northern rebellion. Most astonishing was the systematic order extending even to villages outside the castle. Who else but her could have done what he, the lord, hadn't? It was fortunate the Harkbon family was famed for saints; if Frida had been a commoner, she might have been branded a witch and executed. Her achievements were that remarkable.
"While clearing ridges inside the castle, I surveyed the population near the duchy. But those coming and going were mostly adult men or women—able-bodied workers—so grasping full families was limited."
Her words speeding up, Frida's hand stopped pounding her chest.
"Excluding adults left children or the elderly. With Munheim Castle short on manpower to roam the territory tallying them, I thought: how to make them come on their own? What could lure them inside the walls? The answer was……."
Grabbing a piece of bread from the plate, Frida waved it teasingly before Daniel's eyes.
"Bread. Food."
Even recalling it now, it was a brilliant idea. Ricardo had praised her as a genius, thumbs up with both hands.
"Utrecht originally wasn't a farming region, so few homes had hearths. So we installed communal ones inside the walls to bake and distribute bread. Once we announced portions by headcount, they all came on their own."
Surveying Munheim Castle's surroundings took less than a fortnight. The greater gain was people hearing rumors and settling naturally around the castle. Villages formed, markets followed. Some who earned from land reclamation even started trade with nearby Baimar.
"Best of all, we grasped the number of children. Once they're of age, I'll select talented ones to send to Chellino University. Learning law or medicine and returning would greatly help the duchy; a theologian might even get the imperial family to establish a parish."
Her hesitant voice had gained vitality at some point. Like a child thrilled by falling leaves, or a puppy seeing first snow. Clear. His own mind felt clearer too. Daniel's mouth curved softly without his notice as he asked.
"I heard you distributed utensils for eating too."
The stiffness in his voice had faded considerably.
"That came from Turk merchants' stories; I think it worked last summer. Anton said plagues dropped sharply after using spoons and forks."
Frida held up her ham-speared fork.
"Turks, noble or common, eat with tools, not hands. Safer for hot food, cleaner hands mean fewer illnesses, so I distributed them. Hard for busy commoners to make their own."
She let the fork and shoulders droop with a sigh.
"Anything but, I wish we had more doctors in the territory. Anton teaches a few promising kids; he'd like to send them to Chellino University. Know there's a university beyond Altas in Solz? They produce many capable physicians."
Her nonstop chattering mouth, arms and head moving dynamically with mood, sparkling eyes. Daniel's gaze clung to it all like poncirus vines wrapping a fence.
"Remember the flower I mentioned? The one like Turk turbans. It guarantees profit just growing it. But without funds, I agonized. If you hadn't given the vault key, we'd have waited till next herb harvest."
Whatever pleased her so, Frida's face flushed nonstop. As if happiness overflowed. Though incomprehensible, a strangely convincing situation found Daniel.
"Oh, I don't think I told the Duke this yet."
Frida leaned abruptly toward Daniel, beaming. Her smile warm, innocently bright to madness.
"Thank you so much. You are my benefactor who made my dream come true."
Feeling tipsy without a few drinks. No other words explained this emotion. Maybe she really was drunk. Otherwise, she wouldn't say such things.
"Does today's Duchess like today's me too?"
No sooner the question ended than her small head nodded without hesitation. Fluttering white lashes. Twin amethyst eyes fixed on him, unswerving. Daniel's gaze, touching it all, slowly shifted to the pink lips on her white face. At once, fingers gripping the glass handle delved into her softly rippling hair.
"Then let this be the Duchess's reward to her benefactor."
"Pardon? What do you……."
Daniel lightly tugged the hand grasping Frida's hair. Her small red lips drawn near, his gaze upon them swallowed her.
*** The Duchess had fallen ill again. Hearing the news, Adel hurriedly asked Muriel entering the kitchen about Frida's condition.
"Knight, how's Madam? Where does it hurt, how badly?"
Matilda, pushing dough into the hearth beside her, turned to Muriel too.
"Did she eat the soup I brought? She barely ate dinner yesterday—I'm worried."
Muriel, chin on hand upon sitting, tapped her cheek and furrowed her brow.
"No fever, yet she won't get up. I don't get it."
Adel dusted flour from her apron and offered Muriel a plate of bread, cheese, and ham.
"What'd the physician say? Anton?"
"Exhausted from decorating Skadi Hall."
"Pfft, just that? Hey, leave that and wash dishes first. Careful not to break them."
Directing the new maid, Adel sat across Muriel.
"Reviewing papers nightly, meeting merchants daily, tending herb gardens—how could her body hold? Good thing. Knight, guard her door this time so she rests fully for days. No going out."
"Already warned her not to move for three days. Or I'd confine her inside the castle at least a week."
"Well done. Otherwise, when would our Madam rest?"
Muriel stuffed cheese-slathered bread into her mouth, shaking off unease. ***
'Knock? Or not? Argh, what to do.'
Retracting her hand from the wall multiple times, Frida chewed her lips. One way out undetected by Muriel: ask help from the person she least wanted to face now.
"Get it together, Frida. Think only of what's most important. In this world, nothing trumps credit."
Ugh…… She knew. Knew, but…… How to muster courage to knock? Frida clutched her head with both hands and plopped to the floor. Shouldn't have lied about being sick. She had to deliver advance pay to workers via Dominic today. All introduced by the mercenary corps—hard-gathered, couldn't break promises. Problem: Muriel saw her unable to rise this morning, misunderstood illness, issued outing ban. Binding her feet when she needed to fetch money for Dominic now.
"I'm fine. Muriel. Just…… embarrassed."
Why embarrassed? That…… Recalling the hot breath overlapping her lips, Frida tore at her hair and slumped. Losing balance, she thudded her forehead on the wall. Face burning like midsummer sun—stinging hot. Then. Knock knock. This time, the opposite wall shook her heart.
