Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 289: Chapter 284: Each Family’s Troubles

Dawn Territory, the Count’s castle.

Sunlight streamed through the tall, dust-covered arch windows, casting columns of light.

The light fell upon the long table in the council hall, illuminating Diana Dawn, who sat at its head.

Her back was ramrod straight, like a rapier ready to be drawn, as she struggled to maintain the dignity of the Dawn family.

But the pale blue linen dress, washed a little too white, hung loosely on her frame. The once-snug tailoring now had a little too much room at the waist and across the shoulder blades.

Clearly, the recent period of exhausting worry had made her figure even more slender than before.

Her treasurer, Hubert, stood before the table. His graying hair was impeccably combed, yet the cuffs of his old, stiffly starched coat were frayed at the edges.

He opened the ledger in his hands.

"My Lady, the treasury... only has three thousand, four hundred Golden Suns left."

He paused, then added with difficulty.

"The summer tax isn’t due for another four months. If we want to guarantee the garrison’s pay and the castle servants’ rations... we’ll have to tighten our budget even further this year."

Diana didn’t look at the ledger she had already flipped through countless times.

Her gaze went past Hubert’s shoulder and settled on the world outside the window.

To cut costs, the fountain’s Array in the courtyard was inactive, and the ice in the pond had not yet fully melted.

The stone Water Nymph in the center of the pond was mottled from years of wind and rain, but one could still see the delicate expression it had when first carved.

"Viscount Valerius’s envoy came again today," Hubert’s voice grew lower.

"He delivered one hundred Longswords and thirty sets of chainmail, and they’re piled up at the armory gate. But he reiterated that you must grant the Wind Crow Knight Order free passage throughout the territory, and... accept his participation in command decisions during wartime."

"Count Philippe’s steward also paid me a visit yesterday," Hubert said, closing his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to continue.

"He is willing to provide an interest-free loan of two thousand Golden Suns. The collateral... is the farmland by the Black Water River in the eastern part of the territory."

Valerius wanted her soldiers.

Philippe wanted her land.

Two starving wolves, both waiting for the weakened doe to collapse before they pounced and tore her to pieces.

Diana’s fingers tightened around the quill pen, the tips turning white.

She was silent for so long that Hubert thought she wasn’t going to speak again.

"I understand. You may go."

Hubert bowed and retreated from the council hall with heavy steps.

The oak door closed, shutting out the world.

Diana was alone in the room once more.

Her tense shoulders finally slumped, and she leaned back in her chair, letting out a long sigh.

She picked up the letter in front of her again.

At the foot of the letter was a branded, vaguely familiar emblem of thorns.

Velin Klein.

That name. It was once the source of a hazy infatuation in her youth, then the object of her confused anger—a "fallen one"—and last year, he had somehow become her political tutor.

She picked up the letter and read it again.

The wording of the letter was polite, its content concerning the threat of the Sea Race invasion. He proposed that Grey Marsh Territory and Dawn Territory launch a pincer attack from the north and south to jointly defend Gray Bay against their formidable enemy. He also requested an urgent meeting to form a military alliance.

’An alliance?’ she thought. ’What do I have to offer in an alliance? My one-hundred-odd garrison guards who can’t even get a full meal?’

Diana gave a bitter smile.

She wanted to help Velin with his problem, but she could barely save herself right now.

She stood up and walked to the window.

Her body was a little stiff from sitting for so long, and she stretched her waist.

The movement instantly pulled the faded linen dress taut, clearly outlining her slender waist and the firm curve of her hips.

It was not the softness of a pampered life, but a sense of strength maintained through daily Swordsmanship training and self-discipline.

She looked out at the lands beyond. The townspeople no longer had the vibrant energy she remembered, and the castle, like the early spring sun, was cold and pale.

The Dawn family was still teetering on the edge of ruin. She knew she couldn’t wait any longer.

Diana returned to her desk, spread out a fresh sheet of parchment, and dipped her quill in ink.

The tip of the quill hovered over the paper for a long time. She was about to write the conventional pleasantries used between nobles.

But in the end, she chose a different approach.

...Regarding your proposed alliance, I am deeply honored. The Dawn Territory would be pleased to contribute to the defense against the Sea Race.

...Before making a final decision, I am personally facing a small predicament. Viscount Valerius and Count Philippe...

...If you could spare the time to come to the Dawn Territory, perhaps you could offer some valuable advice to this troubled neighbor of yours...

After finishing the letter, she sealed it with wax.

She summoned a messenger. A raven with glossy black feathers flew out the window and soon disappeared into the gray sky.

Hubert pushed the door open and entered shortly after.

"My Lady."

"Baron Velin will be visiting soon." Diana’s expression returned to its usual sternness. "Cut the castle’s reception budget by half."

Hubert was stunned.

"No," Diana corrected herself, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Cut it to a quarter. You can take out the stale bread from the kitchen pantry. Water down the ale. We have no money, and we need to look the part."

"...Yes, My Lady." Though full of doubt, Hubert accepted the order and withdrew.

The door closed once again.

The stern look on Diana’s face melted away.

She walked to a cabinet in the corner, expertly opened a secret compartment disguised as a brick in the wall, and took out a small, carved tin box.

She gave a quiet order to the shadows in the empty room: "Eira."

A young girl in a maid’s uniform emerged from the shadows behind the door, her steps as light as a cat’s.

Diana carefully handed her the tin box, her movements as gentle as if she were touching a priceless treasure.

"Prepare honey almond cakes for two for the next few days," she said, a cheerful note in her voice that she herself didn’t notice. "And use the silver tea set my mother left me. I might need it at any moment."

The maid took the box, a flicker of confusion crossing her lowered face, but she asked nothing and quietly melted back into the shadows.

...

「Two days later. Minas Tirith, the Lord’s Mansion.」

A beautiful raven, several times larger than a normal one, landed on the windowsill.

A guard untied the wax-sealed message tube from its leg and hurried it to the study.

Velin broke the wax seal, read the letter quickly with no particular expression, and simply handed the paper to Tristan, who was beside him.

Tristan scanned it, his brow furrowing slightly.

"A predicament? Her territory is being eyed by two starving wolves! This Count of the Dawn family, she’s really something else..."

"She needs help, but her pride won’t allow her to ask for it like a beggar."

Velin walked to the window and looked down at the bustling harbor below.

Workers were hoisting crates of supplies from the Golden Sail Commerce Association’s cargo ships. The entire dock was noisy and full of life.

"This is a cry for help addressed to ’Velin Klein,’" Velin added, "not to the ’Baron of Grey Marsh Territory.’"

Tristan put the letter down and tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop.

"I know a little about these two ’suitors.’ Viscount Valerius, a newly-promoted military noble and commander of the Wind Crow Knight Order. He worships martial strength and acts crudely."

"Count Philippe, heir to an old noble family that controls the sugar and tea trade in the southern part of the Duchy. He’s a master calculator. What he wants is likely the lands of the Dawn Territory and the ancient bloodline of the Dawn family, to complete a respectable political marriage and commercial takeover."

Tristan summarized: "One represents the sword of the new aristocracy, the other the purse of the old. Neither will be easy to deal with."

Velin walked back to the desk.

"Since they’re both nobles," Velin said with a confident smile, "I have a little trick up my sleeve. I wonder if they’ll like it."

Tristan asked curiously.

"Are you planning to take the Knight Order? Ola and the others have been itching for some action. I imagine nothing would declare your position better than a victorious military parade."

"No," Velin said, shaking his head. "I’ll tell you when I get back."

He turned and walked toward the door.

"I’ll be back soon. Have someone prepare Nefarian."

Velin passed through the barracks, crossed the Knight Order’s training grounds and the Municipal Square, and headed toward a newly built stone church in a corner of the port district.

The church wasn’t large. It had no ornate stained-glass windows or towering spires. Its style, like all the buildings under his rule, was simple and practical.

Sunlight shone through the plain, narrow windows, falling on a priest who was polishing the Holy Emblem.

Bishop Fabian, dressed in a gray linen robe, was repeatedly wiping the Holy Emblem with a coarse cloth.

Velin walked up behind him.

"Fabian."

The man’s body shuddered slightly.

He put down the rag, turned slowly, and bowed his head respectfully, the gray hood obscuring his face.

"My Lord."

Velin looked at him.

"Pack your things. You’re coming with me to the Dawn Territory."

He added.

"It’s a business trip."

Fabian’s head drooped lower, his expression hidden in the shadow of his hood.

After a moment of silence, he replied in a tone devoid of emotion.

"As you command, my... Lord."

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