Dark Clouds Gather

Under the Rhine Alliance's calm surface, undercurrents were churning. Unseen tension was quietly spreading.

The late-summer breeze had begun to turn cool as it swept past the towering spires of Weissenburg City.

Frederick and Maria had ended their honeymoon and returned to the duchy's capital.

The dust of the journey had barely been washed away when Maria set off for a routine inspection of Bohemia, as scheduled. Frederick, meanwhile, hurried to Chestnut Village to personally inspect the year's crucial Winter Wheat harvest.

He stood atop a high field ridge, dry soil beneath his feet. The late-autumn sun shone on the Wheat Field before him, which should have been golden and full, but its light seemed feeble.

Frederick bent down and rolled a heavy ear of wheat between his fingertips, examining it closely.

The grains were far less plump than expected. His brow furrowed tighter and tighter, as though a cloud had settled over it.

"This year's harvest isn't looking good," he said quietly to the Minister of Agriculture, Monoflo, beside him. His voice carried an unmistakable gravity.

Monoflo's expression was as heavy as the soil beneath their feet.

He bent to pick up a few fallen grains and replied in a low voice, "Your Excellency is quite right."

"The cold last year caused widespread crop failures. The farther north you go, the worse the losses."

"I've heard that in some parts of the Lowlands, the harvest was practically nonexistent. They may not even recover the seeds they sowed."

He shook his head gravely, his worry plain to see.

Frederick fell silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the sparse-looking ears of wheat.

He had indeed observed the fields along the way back, and conditions in the north had been even more dire.

Each winter's cold was harsher than the