Allies

Boles followed Charlotte to a more elegant and private side hall. The view here was excellent; through the huge arched windows, the gallery along one side of the courtyard below could be seen clearly.

His aide and scribe were seated across from Rochefort Manor's meticulous butler. Paper, brushes, and an abacus had been laid out on the small table between them; clearly, they were already deep in tense negotiations over the exact amount of the loan, the types and quantities of grain, the handover method, the repayment details, and so on.

Seeing this, the heart that had been stuck in Boles's throat finally settled slightly. An indescribable feeling, mingled with relief and emotion, welled up in his chest.

They had actually... reached an agreement? The enormous military pay and grain problem that had troubled him for so long, nearly driving him into a dead end, was about to be solved so easily in this quiet side hall of the manor, with a young noblewoman making the final call? It had gone so smoothly that, for a moment, he felt dazed, even a little as if it were unreal.

He had originally prepared himself to be politely refused, or to face harsh conditions.

But reason quickly pressed down that relief. He knew very well that borrowing money and grain was merely the first step of a march of ten thousand miles—one might even say the simplest step.

The real challenge was only just beginning now.

How to make good use of this newly supplied Eagle Nest Cavalry, how to effectively wipe out those Bandits who knew the terrain and appeared and vanished like spirits, how to gradually restore production and order amid these ruins—and especially...

How to dig back, with principal and interest, the profits those deeply rooted, greed-bred old officials