IMYL 11

Chapter: 11

“It’s going to be summer soon anyway. Monsters don’t appear in the summer. If we just hold out for three months, that’s enough. In exchange for Erenta, we’ll give you corn.”

From that, I learned one piece of information.

The food Harwin Barony currently had in the greatest surplus was corn.

“Well, Dalia.”

I shrugged.

“Even in isolation, would you really hand over Erenta—where you can fish—for nothing more than corn?”

Dalia broke into a sly grin.

“The marang fish aren’t in season anyway. They don’t come back until winter. So what—are you planning to survive a month eating tiny fish?”

The Erenta River had a fatal weakness.
A plant called jion grass, which fish disliked, grew there.

So despite being a river, under normal circumstances only small fish passed through it.

Marang fish, however, laid their eggs among the jion grass, which was why the villagers never cut it. Over the course of a year, that brought in more income.

In other words, surviving on fishing alone was impossible.

“Brisa, are you planning to starve your people to death? You can’t live by tearing up your pretty dresses and eating them.”

I shrugged again.

“Well, you took Jezel Street and the Beron Plains—and you took all the people with them. We don’t have many villagers left. Maybe fifty households fishing along Erenta?”

Originally, unless something extreme happened, peasants didn’t care much if their lord changed. It just meant the person collecting taxes changed.

And my father hadn’t even been the type of lord who communicated closely with his people.

“You seized everything at my father’s funeral and now you’re pretending to worry about us. That feels a bit ridiculous… though I suppose it does suit you.”

“Fine. The past is the past, and the present is the present—”

“You were never particularly smart to begin with, Dalia. Saying something inconsistent like that isn’t surprising.”

It took Dalia a moment to process my words.

Silence fell.

Then she snapped.

“What… what exactly are you implying?”

“That you are the ones who’ll be more desperate to feed all those villagers you suddenly gained.”

I deliberately paused, then tilted my head.

“We’re both in difficult situations—so why, exactly, should I cooperate with you?”

There was a reason I hadn’t simply thrown her out.

I couldn’t understand why she had come so suddenly.

You’d come straight here just to claim Erenta? Something feels off.

As soon as I showed even a hint of advantage, Dalia took the bait.

She puffed up proudly.

“Baron Forman is staying at our estate right now.”

That was unexpected.

“…You mean Baron Forman of the West?”

“Yes. He came to visit an acquaintance, but the warp malfunctioned and stranded him. He’s too old to use such an unstable warp, so he’s apparently quite shaken.”

This was new information to me.

The western regions should have been overwhelmed dealing with their own monster wave.

And Baron Forman had once been an information agent under Duke Nozen. He was retired now, but still—

Why was he here?

And… Baron Forman is Leopold Nozen’s maternal grandfather.

Which meant he was family by marriage to the Duke of Nozen.

The gap between their houses was enormous, and there had even been a master–vassal relationship, but Leopold’s parents had been one of the rare noble couples to marry for love.

They had both died during the monster wave ten years ago.

Which meant Leopold had become an orphan at the age of four.

Leopold Nozen…

Without realizing it, I pictured a tall boy with jet-black hair and golden eyes.

Knowing the future, at least I don’t need to worry about whether Leopold survives.

He would come back from this monster wave alive and well.

That, at least, was a relief.

I swallowed a sigh, remembering the bouquet that had arrived the day my engagement was annulled.

It had been sent anonymously, but I knew who it was from.

I’d thought we’d never be entangled again—yet now his grandfather was in the central region.

Dalia lifted her chin and continued.

“This is our chance to become vassals of Duke Nozen. If we show him how well we overcome this crisis.”

Oh, Uncle… you certainly dream big.

Now I understood why Dalia had been sent instead.

Baron Harwin was too busy fawning over Baron Forman to spare the time.

“We’ll overcome this crisis wisely, Brisa. Right before Duke Nozen’s very eyes.”

Dalia spoke proudly, as if the Harwin family were already vassals of the ducal house.

“It’s an incredible—truly incredible—stroke of luck. For our excellence to be reported to the ducal family at every turn.”

“Have you considered that your shortcomings might be reported just as thoroughly?”

“That won’t happen. You know the price of horses is skyrocketing because of the warp problems, right?”

Baron Harwin was a man of military merit—which meant, unlike us, he had possessed a knight order from the beginning.

And the barony he’d been granted had originally been a small horse-breeding region.

“We’re planning to sell horses and trade them for dairy cows. That gives us milk, butter, cheese… You might find that helpful too—”

Dalia smiled deeply at me, then added dramatically,

“Oh, right. You don’t have horses, do you? Since you don’t have a knight order.”

Apparently, she still didn’t know that Alphiers now had one.

I didn’t bother correcting her.

“In any case, it means we’re on a completely different level now.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s why I’m giving you this opportunity first. You’re barely surviving, aren’t you? So hand over Erenta. I’ll pay you fairly. We’re blood, and we’re neighbors.”

“Yes. Blood and neighbors—true.”

I nodded, then replied calmly.

“When you’re the ones barely surviving, hand over Jezel Street. I’ll pay you fairly too. It was originally ours, after all.”

“Originally yours?”

Dalia repeated coldly.

She already knew the negotiation had failed, but that word—originally—clearly struck a nerve.

She glared at me.

“My father lost everything to your father for the sole reason that he was born the eldest son.”

“So that’s how people describe following imperial inheritance law these days.”

“Shut up. Arrogant people with no real ability always fall sooner or later—like worms.”

“Really? Then Harwin’s downfall should be quite a spectacle. I’ll be sure to come watch.”

Dalia jumped to her feet.

“You’re proud to the very end, Brisa.”

Her pale blue eyes burned into me.

“And you’re rude to the very end, Dalia.”

I stayed seated and shrugged.

“I noticed earlier—your tea sloshed around quite a bit when you lifted the cup. You’ll need more practice. Especially in front of Baron Forman.”

At my remark, Dalia sucked in a sharp breath.

The maids seized the moment to clear their throats, stifling laughter.
To them, not knowing how to hold a teacup properly was the greatest insult in this entire exchange.

Silence followed.

“I would have—”

At last, Dalia glared at me again.

“If I’d had a mother who was a princess, I’d be far better at holding teacups too. Don’t act superior. The estate Baron Forman chose to stay at is Harwin’s, not Sears’s.”

“The ‘For’ in ‘Forman’ should be drawn out a bit longer. Western proper nouns are pronounced closer to the ancient language.”

“I told you not to show off! I would’ve known that too if I’d gone to the Capital Academy!”

“Ah.”

Only then did everything click.

Good heavens—sometimes the maids were right. Their assessment had been spot-on.

“So you were jealous of me, Dalia. That’s why you resented me.”

Dalia shot me one last glare, then spun around and stormed out of the drawing room.

She was clearly heading straight to her parents at the Harwin estate to throw a tantrum.

I let out a long, weary sigh.

Why envy something like this?
What was so special about holding a teacup without spilling?

I didn’t need a mother born a princess.
I didn’t need the Capital Academy.

What I needed was…