Chapter 85

During my morning walk, I saw the figure of Count Crawford in the distance for the first time in half a year.

I know the Countess is recuperating in this land. Therefore, the Count himself likely leaves his territory and visits here when he finds the time. That is exactly why I hadn’t seen his figure until recently.

The Crawford Earldom. That land has wide cultivated fields, and is a land that responds as much as hands are put into it.

…If so.

When I returned to the office, I immediately issued instructions.

“Gather materials. The production status of the Crawford Earldom.”

Before long, documents were piled up. I run my eyes through the progress of cultivation, harvest yields, stockpiles, and distribution.

“…It’s appearing, huh.”

I mutter softly. Surplus production. The scale is not large yet, but it is certainly “beginning to be left over.”

The arable land responds, and people are moving too. And above all, the timing is good. Over here, people have increased too much. There is a flow, but the supply is still unstable.

I closed the documents.

“Tell Count Crawford. That I have something to discuss.”

---

A few days later, I welcomed Count Crawford in the stone reception room.

“…It’s been a while.”

I call out to him.

Count Crawford bowed deeply.

“It has been a long time, Your Highness.”

I give a light nod and continue.

“How is your wife?”

The Count’s expression softened slightly.

“Yes. She has gotten much better since then. I believe in a little while longer… we will be able to take walks together.”

“I see.”

I reply shortly. If it is an illness of the bones, it would be around that time. If not forced, recovery will continue.

Pausing a beat, I raised my gaze.

“How is your territory? Is there leeway in agricultural products?”

The Count made a slightly surprised face, but immediately answered.

“Cultivation has progressed, and we have secured stockpiles. A surplus is beginning to appear, and we are currently considering selling it.”

…As expected.

“Oh. Then, won’t you sell it here?”

The Count’s brow moves slightly. I continued.

“People have increased too much. There is a flow of supplies, but it has not completely stabilized yet.”

I direct my gaze far away.

“It will be too late once we run out.”

The Count was listening silently. Eventually, he opens his mouth.

“…Without going through merchants, is it?”

He’s sharp. He immediately understood that it was talk of a direct transaction between lords.

“Yeah.”

I answer without hesitation.

“Merchants are necessary. But we should not rely solely on them. It is better to have many methods.”

The Count sank into thought for a while. Eventually, he slowly nods.

“Understood. I will take this back to the territory, and after consideration, I will give you a reply.”

“That is fine.”

I looked at the Count and answered.

---

Half a month later.

I welcomed two people in the stone reception room.

Across the long desk. Count Crawford, and sitting beside him, his young daughter, the next successor, Lydia.

To have his successor present for a single transaction of agricultural products.

It means he is not taking this talk lightly to that extent. Not bad.

“It was sudden talk, but may we proceed?”

I broke the ice. The Count nodded and looked at Lydia beside him.

“Yes. I have been looking at the numbers in detail. I believe it is fully possible.”

I gave a light nod.

“That is reliable.”

Lydia, keeping her back straight, slightly bows her head.

“…I am still inexperienced.”

Her voice is small. But she is not running away.

“I might have more things to ask of you from here on. I’m counting on you.”

I said so. Lydia paused for an instant, and

“…Yes. Until the end of time.”

At those words, the air in the room relaxed slightly.

The Count gives a bitter smile.

“Lydia. The words are wrong.”

He continues low, but without reproaching her.

“It is ‘I look forward to working with you from here on as well’.”

Lydia’s face turns red all at once.

“…P-Please forgive my rudeness. I look forward to working with you from here on as well.”

Correcting herself, she bowed her head deeply.

I gave a small nod.

Pausing a beat, I return the talk.

“Now then—I have one proposal.”

The gazes of the two raise.

“Won’t you try increasing the types of crops?”

The Count moved his brow slightly.

“Increasing, you mean?”

“Not only those that bear fruit above ground. Including those that grow in the soil as well. People gather in this land. Pilgrims, those recuperating… those who come from afar will pay money for unfamiliar things.”

I pause.

“Conversely—also for the tastes of their hometowns.”

Lydia’s eyes moved slightly.

“…Nostalgic things, rare things, is it?”

“That’s right. Don’t you think they’ll sell?”

The Count crosses his arms and sinks into thought.

“There is logic in that. However… what should we grow?”

“I will prepare that here. Both the seeds and the methods to plant them.”

Silence. Eventually, the Count nods.

“…If so, we likely can.”

His decision is fast. Beside him, Lydia was also giving small nods. I entrust my body deeply to the chair.

The talk came together.

I certainly obtained one source for agricultural products.

---

I watched the state of the two for a while before quietly opening my mouth.

“There is one more thing. I will draw a road.”

The Count’s gaze raises. Lydia also turned her face. For an instant, a pause fell as if measuring the meaning.

“…A road, is it?”

The Count repeats low.

“Yeah. A road connecting your territory and here.”

I continued matter-of-factly.

“Even though we are neighbors, you make a large detour. Avoiding mountains, passing through forests, and going around valleys. It is nearly double the distance. I assume you came like that this time as well?”

The Count narrowed his eyes slightly.

“…Did you know?”

“I can tell by looking.”

I reply shortly.

“The way your shoes and horses are tired is different.”

Lydia dropped her gaze as if startled. Certainly, the path leading here was not easy.

“It is inefficient. If the volume increases, it will eventually clog.”

Lydia’s fingers move slightly.

“…Certainly, we will not be able to carry it all as things are.”

“Right now it is still fine. But if we are to create a flow, it’s a different story.”

I direct my gaze straight at them.

“Goods will increase. People will increase. If so, a road that can be passed through by the shortest route is needed.”

Silence.

“…You mean to newly pass a highway through.”

The Count’s voice was quiet, but within it was the color of measuring.

I raise my body slightly.

“That’s right. A road for carrying things here, for coming here. A road to prevent them from flowing elsewhere.”

There was a presence of Lydia gasping.

“…Giving shape to the flow itself.”

She says small, as if muttering.

“You are quick to understand.”

I replied shortly.

The Count kept his eyes cast down for a while, but eventually slowly nods.

“…It will cost both expenses and labor.”

“It will.”

I answer immediately.

“But we can recover more than that. As long as it continues. It is worth making.”

After silence, the Count gave a small laugh.

“…I see. To think you are looking this far ahead.”

He raises his face.

“Understood. Let us draw a road.”

Beside him, Lydia also nodded strongly.

“—I will definitely see it through.”

I nodded slightly.

That is fine.

---

A stone-built room.

Once again, a place for a meeting with Count Crawford was set up.

Seeds and seedlings have already been sent into the Earldom, and the growth of new crops has begun in the fields.

But that alone is not enough. I quietly opened my mouth.

“I hear they are growing smoothly.”

“Yes. We are still fumbling, but the sprouts have certainly come out.”

The Count answered in a calm voice. Beside him, Lydia is dropping her gaze to a writing board.

I nodded.

“Then next. Food does not end with being harvested.”

The gazes of the two raise.

“Preservation and processing—the real thing starts from here.”

A slight silence. The Count slowly opened his mouth.

“…Drying, salting, that sort of thing?”

“That too. But that alone is weak. Turn them into powder, press oil, make alcohol, change their shape. If you do that, they won’t rot, they can be carried, and their value will rise.”

Lydia’s fingers stop slightly.

“…You are raising their value, aren’t you.”

“That’s right. And, we change the way they are sold.”

The air pulls slightly taut. The Count narrowed his gaze.

“…The way they are sold, is it?”

“Send all processed goods here once. We will place a market in the hot spring resort. People are already beginning to gather. Both pilgrims and those recuperating.”

A slight pause until understanding caught up.

“…In other words, narrow the place to sell down to one.”

The Count chooses his words.

“That’s right. Make it a form where they cannot be sold unless they pass through here.”

Lydia raises her face with a start.

“…Then, the prices?”

“I will decide them here.”

I declare without hesitation.

Silence fell.

It is not pressure. It was the quiet weight when understanding the structure. The Count exhales low.

“…Are you saying we will turn to the side of producing?”

“We will split the profits. But I will consolidate the flow. That way, the whole becomes stronger.”

Lydia gives a small nod.

“…Certainly. If the selling destinations scatter, the prices will collapse.”

“Exactly. Furthermore, place stockpiles here as well. A portion of them, without fail.”

The Count’s brow moves slightly.

“…Is it to prepare for poor harvests and calamities?”

“That too. And, to stop them if necessary.”

At those words, the air changed. The Count stared fixedly this way. But, eventually gave a small laugh.

“…I see. Meaning you have no intention of leaving it entirely to us.”

“Naturally. I will not rely on one thing. I will hold multiple flows.”

I replied matter-of-factly.

“Even if the direct transaction, the market, or the flow of pilgrimage stops, the others will move.”

Lydia is quietly taking notes.

The Count nodded slowly.

“…I understand.”

And, he slightly relaxed the corners of his mouth.

“This is—not a mere transaction.”

I did not answer.

Instead, I say shortly.

“It is to feed them. …Both those who come to this land, and those who live here.”

The Count bowed his head deeply.

“If so, let us entrust them to you. Our harvests, and what lies beyond them.”

Lydia too, quietly follows.

“…In a form that can support you until the end of time.”

This time, she did not mistake her words.

I gave a slight nod.

This is fine. Those who make, those who carry, those who buy.

All the flows are, little by little, gathering into one in this land.

---

Lydia’s Perspective

After leaving the stone reception room.

The corridor was quiet, and the outside light shone in thinly. Lydia was walking without uttering a word for a while.

…The inside of my chest still hasn’t settled. She hadn’t thought she would see His Highness the Third Prince from so close.

Since that day, she had been preparing all along. So that she could puff out her chest when she could meet him again someday.

And, so that she could properly convey her gratitude for what she received that time. She read ledgers, looked at the soil, begged for teachings from people, and piled up failures.

Prepare, increase, protect.

Believing that is her duty as one living in this land, and a modest return of favor to His Highness.

She didn’t mind even if she couldn’t meet him.

What she piled up would directly connect to the peace of the people of the territory. She thought so, and yet.

When actually standing before him, words did not come out.

He is much larger than she had envisioned. Quiet, unshakeable, merely existing there changes the flow of the place.

The state of being of one who overcomes war, raises a territory, and moves people. It was as if he were a person from another world.

…I am no match.

Deep in her chest, she honestly thought so.

“…To think it would be in this form.”

It leaked out small, like a breath. Count Crawford walking beside her directed his gaze slightly. But, he says nothing. He likely understands.

How heavy a meaning this presence held.

“If it is the next successor, it will not be rude even if you are present. Rather, it can show that we are serious.”

Before departure, her father said so. She understands the logic. She understands it, but.

“…My mental preparation, did not make it in time.”

She let slip absently. The Count gives a slight bitter smile.

“It doesn’t show on your face. Be at ease.”

“…Is that, so.”

But, the problem is not there. Lydia slowly let out a breath. The conversation had been established.

…But, it’s different.

What she recalls is that gaze. Quiet, and unshakeable. Eyes that seem to see everything, yet only look at what is necessary.

His words are not many, but each and every one is heavy.

…That is, the “side that decides the flow.”

Her fingertips are gripped slightly tight. What they had stepped into just now. Delayed, the realization catches up.

“…Father.”

“What is it.”

“…He is truly an amazing person, isn’t he.”

The Count narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You finally have a face for it.”

He says shortly. Lydia looked forward.

The heat in her cheeks no longer remained.

“—Yes. Next time, I will make it so I can speak a little more decently.”

Small, but clearly, Lydia said. To those words, the Count returned nothing.

He just nodded once, looking satisfied.

Beyond the corridor, light was spreading.

…If I am to sit in the same seat once more. So that I can puff out my chest in front of that person.