‘Got him…!’
Even though I had heard exactly what I wanted, I kept my expression cold and irritated.
“Fine. I suppose it’s better than staying in this carriage.”
Olche immediately started coaxing me. After a bit of back-and-forth, I finally acted as if I had reluctantly given in and stepped out of the carriage.
“Only until my mother arrives. Got it?”
“Of course, my lady.”
“Then, let’s go. It’s just ahead.”
The farmer led the way. As I followed behind him, I hid a small smirk behind my fan. Everything was going exactly according to plan.
The farmer’s house was indeed very close. It was a small wooden cottage—cozy and well-worn, showing clear signs of age but exuding warmth.
Of course, I acted like I couldn’t care less about any of that. With my arms crossed, I took the best chair in the house and sat down with an air of superiority.
Olche and the farmer sat across from each other at a slight distance from me. I could see them sneaking glances at me and whispering—probably gossiping about me.
‘Good. Just as planned.’
The reason I had been acting so horribly was all part of the strategy.
The fastest way to bond two people was by giving them a common enemy.
By deliberately mistreating Olche in front of the farmer, I made sure he would pity her. The more he disliked me, the more inclined he would be to side with Olche.
That way, I could build a sense of camaraderie between them.
‘And thanks to that, I got inside the house.’
Now, the rest was up to Olche. She needed to extract information from the farmer naturally through conversation.
Feigning disinterest, I turned away from them and observed through a mirror hanging on the wall.
“This is a nice house…”
“Make yourself comfortable. It’s just me living here.”
“Thank you.”
They exchanged a few awkward lines, and Olche still looked tense.
‘Should I have switched roles with her?’
Honestly, if someone had to play the bullied victim, I was probably the better choice. But I had chosen to be the villain because I didn’t trust Olche’s acting skills.
‘She needs to step up now…’
As I worried, the farmer suddenly stood up and walked toward me. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended not to care.
“Um…”
“…What?”
I snapped my eyes open, making the farmer flinch. He forced an awkward smile, his tone making it clear he was only asking out of politeness.
“I have a bottle of wine at home. I was thinking of having a drink. If you don’t mind…”
“No thanks. Who would drink that stuff?!”
I turned my head away with a sharp flick and closed my eyes again.
Shortly after, I heard the sound of the farmer bringing out the wine and pouring drinks for Olche and himself.
Wine, huh?
It was probably Olche’s own little indulgence, but in the end, it worked out well. Alcohol would help loosen the conversation.
I had no idea how much time passed. They continued drinking, emptying the wine bottle before moving on to an old fruit liquor the farmer had been secretly storing in his shed.
“I like this guy!”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had such a good drinking buddy, old man.”
Before I knew it, they were chatting like lifelong friends.
The farmer, in particular, looked far past his drinking limit. His face had gone from red to nearly purple, and he was slurring his words.
I started to worry—if he got any more drunk, we wouldn’t be able to get any useful information out of him.
Fortunately, as if reading my mind, Olche finally brought up the real topic.
“By the way, old man. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course! What’s on your mind, my friend?”
“I heard Baron Gobet’s territory bought twice as many seedlings this year. Is that true?”
“Seedlings?”
“Yes.”
Olche kept her tone casual, as if it were just a passing curiosity.
“I overheard it somewhere, but it didn’t seem to make sense.”
“What do you mean? If they want to farm twice as much, of course they need twice the seedlings.”
“Come on, just having more seedlings doesn’t mean you can farm more. You need land to plant them on.”
I unconsciously held my breath, staring at the farmer.
But he was too drunk to even notice my gaze. With a tone suggesting it was obvious, he answered,
“Oh, that’s all thanks to the viscount’s land next door.”
“A viscount’s land?”
“Yeah, right next to us is the farmland of Viscount Krauss. I heard they lent some land.”
What?
I was so shocked that I jumped to my feet.
Did that mean Viscount Krauss was telling the truth? That so-called mutual aid system between the viscount and the baron—something I had dismissed as nonsense—was actually working?
“But what about the crops that were supposed to be grown on the viscount’s land?”
Olche asked again, and the farmer shook his head.
“How should I know? Not my concern.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I stepped closer and asked the farmer directly. After all, judging by his drunken state, he probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation tomorrow.
“They’re not just growing the viscount’s crops here instead, are they?”
“Huh?”
The farmer, too drunk to even recognize who I was, shook his head again.
“What kind of foolishness is that? If we were just swapping farmland, we might as well grow our own crops! Of course not! The viscount is just helping us!”
‘The viscount is only helping them? But…’
That would mean the viscount’s own harvest would plummet. Was he really willing to sacrifice his territory’s crop yield just to support Baron Gobet?
No, that didn’t make sense.
Even if the viscount was some kind of selfless saint, he had already set conditions during the previous meeting.
The agreement had been that both Viscount Krauss and Baron Gobet would increase their yields.
If that condition wasn’t met, then Baron Gobet increasing his crop yield alone wouldn’t matter. The viscount knew that just as well as I did.
‘Then what is he planning? How does he intend to maintain his own yield…?’
At that moment, an impossible thought flashed through my mind.
‘No way. It can’t be…’
“Sir Olche, do you have a map of the empire?”
“Huh? Ah, yes!”
Olche, who had been dazed from drinking, quickly fumbled through her coat. She handed me the map, and I spread it out across the table.
The full imperial map unfolded before me. The capital, Summerhill, Baron Gobet’s territory, and right beside it—
“Krauss Viscounty…”
And next to that…
“Hetchian Barony.”
Baron Hetchian.
He was a noble from the aristocratic faction. Not a particularly notable figure, but still one who had remained loyal even after Duke Spiegel’s downfall.
‘Of all places, another noble faction’s land is right next to the viscount’s?’
This wasn’t a coincidence.
Viscount Krauss had planned this from the very beginning.
Baron Gobet borrowed land and manpower from the viscount.
Then, Viscount Krauss borrowed land and manpower from Baron Hetchian.
That way, Baron Gobet’s crop yield would double, while Viscount Krauss’s yield would remain the same.
Baron Hetchian wouldn’t be able to borrow land from anyone, but that didn’t matter.
His declining yield wasn’t relevant—his land wasn’t part of the empire’s official export system. More importantly, his harvest wasn’t included in the conditions set during the meeting.
‘What an absurd scheme…!’
I stared at the map in disbelief.
This was nothing but a shell game.
They were just shifting resources around to appear as though they had increased their yield. It wasn’t a sustainable plan—it was nothing but a temporary trick.
And yet, they had gone through with it.
The reason was obvious: Caesar.
This was a direct attempt to obstruct Caesar’s plans—no matter what it cost them.
‘They don’t care what they lose, as long as they can hinder him.’
But why was Baron Gobet going along with it?
He wasn’t even part of the noble faction. He had no reason to take this risk or suffer losses just to follow Viscount Krauss’s orders.
‘Why? There must be a reason.’
I was deep in thought when Olche, who had been waiting patiently, finally asked,
“Um, my lady. Is there a problem?”
“…Yes. A big one.”
But the biggest issue was something else entirely.
Even now that I knew the truth, there was nothing I could do about it.
They hadn’t technically broken any laws.
No one had expected them to pull such an inefficient and reckless scheme, so there were no regulations against it.
And they had fulfilled the conditions set in the meeting.
Even if I exposed them, nothing would change.
They would just shamelessly insist that their crop yield had increased, and in the end, Summerhill would lose its chance to become an export hub.
Images of the Summerhill villagers flashed through my mind—the farmers who had already begun cultivating the mountainsides.
If we lost the export rights now, the damage would be devastating.
I couldn’t let Viscount Krauss’s scheme succeed.
Rolling up the map, I spoke firmly.
“We need a different approach.”
“Huh? What kind of approach?”
There were only two ways for an export designation to change.
Either the noble in charge committed a disgraceful act that ruined their family’s reputation…
Or a disaster struck their land, making farming impossible.
I looked straight at Olche and said,
“We need to uncover Baron Gobet’s disgraceful secrets.”
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