The meeting in the Commandery Governor's residence had only just ended, and the cold wind had yet to strip the room of its lingering warmth.
A timid figure quietly appeared at the study door.
It was Mrs. Grant.
Head bowed, like a dead leaf that might be swept away at any moment, he hesitated before the heavy oak door, then raised his hand and knocked softly twice.
"L-Lord Louis, could I... speak with you?" His voice was as soft as a feather falling to the ground, carrying a faint tremor.
The door opened. Louis sat behind his desk, looking through documents.
Louis looked up at the doorway, unsurprised, since an attendant had already announced the visitor, and offered a gentle smile.
"Of course. Please come in."
Mrs. Grant's formal gown was clearly no longer in fashion. Its tight waist left faint red marks, and the gauzy skirt was somewhat worn.
As he entered, he clutched a crumpled handkerchief, as though it were the only thing that could keep him calm.
He hesitated beside the chair before sitting down gently, his legs pressed together, looking as nervous as a maid newly arrived at court.
Grant spoke softly, as though afraid of disturbing something. "I really... don't know what to do."
Then he described his family's predicament, the land so barren it could not grow wheat, and how he had tried to manage things by following the account books his father had left behind, only to find himself unable to untangle even the most basic income and expenses.
His voice faltered, his gaze wandered, and he never once raised his head to look at Louis.
"I tried asking my former liege and my husband's family for advice, but no one would give me the time of day.
"Those men... they think I'm