July was the briefest and gentlest season of the year in the Northern Frontier.
The sunlight was faint, yet it spilled lightly over the wilderness, brushing the treetops and wheat fields. Even the bitter wind seemed to have stopped for a rest, leaving only a trace of coolness curling through people's hair.
On one such quiet afternoon, a convoy slowly approached along the main road outside Red Tide City.
At its head was an honor guard dispatched by Duke Edmund's household, followed by more than a dozen carriages.
"So this is the Red Tide Fief?"
Duchess Elena sat in the second carriage, lifting a corner of the curtain to look out at the changing scenery.
She came from the old nobility of the Northern Frontier and had seen much of the world since childhood. Over years of accompanying her husband on provincial tours, she had visited many renowned places in both the north and the south.
Yet the sight before her still gave her pause.
The streets were immaculate, without a scrap of paper in their corners, and the paving stones looked as neat and clean as if they had just been laid.
Workers carried sacks of wheat in orderly lines along both sides of the road. Their movements were practiced and disciplined, and there was not a hint of exhaustion on their faces.
Farther away, several children ran and played beside a low fence, their hair and laughter flying together in the summer breeze.
A middle-aged attendant with graying hair approached Elena's carriage window and murmured in wonder, "My lady... I've traveled through the provinces all my life, but I've never seen such a peaceful frontier fief."
Is this really... a central holding developed barely more than a year ago? Elena murmured inwardly.
Across from her, Olivia, the head