IMYL 17

Chapter: 17

I knew this would happen.

I looked at the servants of Baron Harwin gathered in the potato field.

They were standing with torches, their faces showing panic.

“You planning to throw torches in the potato field?”

I asked calmly.

“Don’t throw them. Instead, I’ll let you roast some potatoes there.”

The servants gasped.

“Even if you tried, you’re surrounded, and the fire would go out quickly anyway.”

Buckets of water were around me. I had already filled them from the river in advance.

“Well, a few potatoes might get ruined, I suppose. The outcome is set—you just get to choose.”

I said quietly.

“Whether they get ruined or you eat them, we don’t care about the process. We’re only concerned with the final result.”

I had thought the potato field might be in danger. Knowing Baron Harwin’s temperament, I didn’t expect him to leave things alone.

So every night, I had the servants place buckets of water around the potato field.

‘After all, it’s water for the potatoes tomorrow—it’s not wasted labor.’

Labor must be conserved. Strength comes from what we eat.

I also increased the number of patrolling knights at night. If an arsonist appeared, they were to immediately surround him with the water buckets and contact me.

Finally, tonight, I got that call. I had been sleeping when I was summoned.

In front of the hollow-cheeked servants, I gestured to the maid.

The maid promptly brought out a few plates.

“Salt is here, and I’ve prepared cold tea made from boiled lotus root.”

The hungry intruders immediately surrendered.

“W-we’ll eat!”

“See? I knew it. You’re human.”

We gave them three large potatoes each.

Watching them roast the potatoes over the torch made us a little hungry too, so we roasted one for a late-night snack.

Warm, fluffy potatoes dipped in salt, eaten with chilled lotus root tea—it was perfect.

Of course, Wendy couldn’t eat.

I had brought several knights, one of whom was Wendy.

She wasn’t starving—just couldn’t eat the potatoes. In the current state of our estate, not being able to eat the staple food was very painful, especially when others were eating.

“Wow, it’s so fluffy and delicious. Wendy, this is really tasty.”

“Warm and soft. How long has it been since I felt a softness like this? Wendy will have to wait longer, though.”

The knights even enjoyed teasing her while eating in front of her.

“Wendy, you should have a better attitude. It’s your personality that keeps you from enjoying such delicious potatoes.”

“Yes. You can stick to dried fish and eggs. It’ll help your character grow.”

At this point, I wasn’t sure if the knights’ personalities were good or bad.

Anyway, Wendy was always miserable. A few days ago, she even knelt before me, begging for forgiveness.

But I didn’t lift the potato ban.

“All right then.”

After the snack, I signaled the knights.

“We need to take you to Baron Harwin.”

The knights quickly tied up the intruders with ropes.

The intruders blinked stupidly, muttering.

“W-we could have gone on our own…”

“Do you think I’d just let criminals go?”

I said indifferently.

“They need to pay Baron Harwin.”

“…What?”

“Let’s go.”

I headed toward Baron Harwin’s estate with a group of knights, including Wendy.

It was a moonless night.

“Um… miss.”

One of the intruders, pacified from eating potatoes, spoke.

They were peasants who had recently thought Sears was their lord.

“But there’s really nothing in our estate. How will you collect your debt…?”

“There’s probably only a few corn cobs left in the baron’s estate too. And our baron isn’t the type to hand things over willingly…”

“He’ll probably never admit he ordered this. He’ll pin it all on us!”

Then Philip shouted from behind.

“How dare you speak to the lady, you thieves!”

I hadn’t brought the maid along to Baron Harwin’s estate, but Philip acted as if I had a maid with me.

“You lot aren’t even worthy to look at such a noble lady!”

Philip glared and issued threats.

“Bow your heads! Walk properly! If even a speck of dust from your actions soiled the lady’s skirt, know that the day will be your blood on my sword!”

The intruders immediately lowered their heads. Probably more intimidated by Philip’s size than his words.

Philip then approached me, whispering proudly.

“This is the way of the nobility, right, miss? I did well, didn’t I?”

Actually, the handmaidens of Liente were excessive; nobles in the capital weren’t this strict.

Philip had learned incorrectly.

“You did well.”

Still, by Liente’s standards, he did well. The problem was that Liente had fallen.

I answered haughtily.

“Let’s record this in the history books.”

Philip was satisfied with my comment for the first time.

* * *

‘What on earth is going on!’

Baron Forman thought as he returned to Baron Harwin’s estate.

‘To have to come back again!’

The old informant’s joints ached from sneaking around.

In the dead of night, Brisa stormed into Baron Harwin’s room with the intruders in tow.

No one could stop her, especially with the well-fed knights accompanying her.

“Hmm.”

Baron Harwin, confronted with complaints about the intruders, stroked his mustache.

“I know nothing of this, Brisa. Why would I ruin my nephew’s field?”

Of course, he was denying everything.

Brisa asked sharply.

“Then why did they come in the middle of the night, risking labor, to set fire to our field guarded by all these knights? If it wasn’t on your orders, uncle.”

Baron Harwin dodged.

“Well, this is delicate to say in difficult times… I suppose they were just jealous of you.”

“You should be more careful with your words.”

Brisa shrugged.

“The intruders don’t look happy.”

Indeed, the intruders tied up with ropes were glaring at Baron Harwin as if they wanted to kill him. They resented their master who had cut ties with them.

“Brisa, I’ll give you a piece of advice, but don’t take it badly.”

“That’s exactly what will make me upset as soon as I hear it.”

“You’re quite disrespectful to elders. Did your mother teach you to come to a senior’s house at night and argue like this?”

“See? I was right. I’m upset now.”

“I clearly remember, three or four years ago, when I last saw your mother…”

“‘Three or four years ago’ isn’t something you can clearly remember. It’s inaccurate, so I won’t listen.”

Brisa folded her arms and said proudly.

“More importantly, I want you to take responsibility for this.”

“Responsibility? Why me?”

Baron Harwin had a tantrum at the word “responsibility.”

“A lord can’t manage every subject in his estate, can he?”

“Then how will we punish them? Can I handle it myself?”

“Well…”

When Brisa pressed with questions, Baron Harwin’s eyes darted nervously.

“Still… they’re my subjects. The final decision should be mine, right? That’s the principle.”

By principle, a lord had the right to punish his subjects. Brisa’s protests couldn’t change that.

Then Brisa asked calmly.

“Then how about selling them off?”

At that moment, the elderly informant eavesdropping outside the door—Baron Forman—almost fainted.

Sell… them off? What does that mean?