True Feelings

Count Boles's carriage, guided by the well-trained manor guards, slipped soundlessly through Rochefort Manor's heavy yet understated wrought-iron gates.

Along the way, fields crisscrossed in neat grids, ditches ran orderly, farmhouses stood sturdy, and the farmers working in the fields, though plainly dressed, had ruddy complexions—a world apart from the starvation corpses strewn everywhere and the deathly stillness seen in the rest of Herwenham.

Boles sighed inwardly. The Rochefort Family's reputation for capable governance was well deserved, and it gave him a few more measures of confidence in this request for a loan.

Led by a servant, Boles crossed the elegant but by no means extravagant forecourt and entered a spacious, bright reception room in the main building.

The furnishings within were centered on practicality and comfort, revealing the restrained depth of an old noble house. Above the fireplace hung a banner bearing the Rochefort Family's Griffin Emblem.

Two people were already waiting in the room. One was a middle-aged man in dark formal attire, his bearing meticulous in every detail—clearly the manor's butler.

The other made Boles's gaze narrow slightly: a young woman seated in the armchair at the head of the room.

She had neat short golden hair that set off the clear yet gentle lines of her face. Though there was an undeniable trace of weariness between her brows, her blue eyes were sharp and bright, like a glacier beneath a clear winter sky—calm and deep.

She wore a well-tailored dark-blue riding-style day outfit, both capable and efficient, yet not lacking the elegance of a noble young lady.

Simply sitting there in silence, she naturally exuded a presence that could not be ignored.

The butler stepped forward and bowed respectfully in introduction. "Your Excellency, this is Earl Rochefort's daughter, Charlotte de Rochefort Knight."

Boles understood at once!