Chapter 156. Strong Desire 

A breeze blew, and strands of Annette’s pale blonde hair brushed against Loic’s neck.

Before he could even register it, heat flared in the pit of his stomach.

Startled by the sudden tension, Loic guided the horse forward slowly.

“Are we not running on the way back?”
Annette glanced back at him with an innocent face.

“Do you want to run?”

He tried to sound calm, but the end of his voice shook miserably.

He didn’t trust himself to run again like earlier— it might be too stimulating for his already sensitive body.

“No, I like this too. The scenery is nice.”

Annette smiled and looked forward again.

Now that she was relaxed, she leaned her back more comfortably against him.

That light contact kept making his thoughts wander to the softness hidden beneath her clothes.

Loic discreetly pulled his waist back so she wouldn’t notice.

‘What was that toll fee Perel mentioned earlier?’

He forced himself to think of the driest, most boring topics he knew as he led the horse at a slow pace.

Back at the Grand Duchy

By the time they returned to the castle, the sun had already set.

Annette stepped into her room on trembling legs—only to see Cecelia sitting in the dark with just a small lamp lit.

“Cecelia?”

“You’re back.”

Her heavy voice sent a chill down Annette’s spine.

“…Why are you sitting like that?”

“There’s something I need to tell Your Grace.”

Worried by the serious atmosphere, Annette cautiously sat across from her.

On the table lay The Woman in the Flames.

Cecelia’s eyes were red and swollen in the yellow light of the lamp.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Cecelia hesitated dramatically, as if preparing a big announcement, before finally speaking.

“Your Grace, I want to rewrite The Woman in the Flames.”

“You, Cecelia?”

“I read it while Your Grace was out.”

She lifted the script reverently.

“I want to change Madam Violetta’s fate.”

“…Violetta? The heroine?”

Cecelia’s clenched fist trembled.

“Why does an innocent woman have to meet such a tragic end? I can’t accept it!”

After calming her down, Annette managed to understand the core of her frustration— in the original script, the heroine takes revenge on the cheating couple and then, disgusted with the world, enters a monastery. Cecelia desperately wanted to change that ending.

Cecelia was thoroughly immersed in the story.

“But Cecelia… you’ve never written a script before.”

Annette pointed out calmly.

“Well… that’s true.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but this is really important.”

“But Your Grace, I really want to try!”

“I need someone who can write it, not someone who just wants to.”

She spoke a little firmly to keep Cecelia—who sometimes rushed into things—from getting carried away.

But Cecelia showed no intention of backing down.

“I’ll work really, really hard! I won’t even take payment!”

Annette sighed faintly as she looked at Cecelia’s sparkling brown eyes.

“When you work, you should be paid. It’s not about the money.”

“I know.”

Cecelia’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“I just wanted to show how determined I am.”

“Why do you want to write a script all of a sudden? Because it sounds fun?”

“To be honest… I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

Cecelia admitted she’d wanted to try writing something new for some time.

“Your Grace, I’m really confident.”

Her desperate expression made Annette hesitate.

‘What should I do…’

This opportunity was precious— a prince of Rondoris had given them the chance despite making enemies in his own country.

But sometimes enthusiasm itself was the strongest advantage.

“Fine. Cecelia will write the script.”

Cecelia gasped loudly.

“Really?”

“But you must write it seriously. If I don’t like the script, I’ll find another writer immediately.”

“Of course! And I’ll make sure it doesn’t interfere with my maid duties!”

“You don’t have to. You’ll be busy writing—take a vacation for now.”

“That won’t do!”

Cecelia shook her head vigorously.

“There’s still an important task left—oh, I mean, something I must do.”

“What important task could my maid have without telling me?”

“There just is!”

Cecelia’s face lit up as she grabbed the script.

“Oh, by the way, there’s one thing you need to add.”

“What is it?”

“Snow Wine.”

“…What?”

Annette began explaining the idea she’d been forming in her mind.

Meanwhile

On the far western edge of the duchy lay a huge barren wasteland.

In the middle of that dry land stood a gray stone monastery, bleak and lonely.

It used to house runaway criminals, until a high priest was exiled here.
The building was made into a residence for him.

It still resembled a prison more than a monastery.

But people called it Gallid Monastery, after the high priest.

“Miss, you still haven’t finished even half of your embroidery.”

A nun snapped sharply, pulling Meisel out of her daze at the window.

Meisel held a poorly stitched embroidery hoop of a flower.

The nun snatched it away and said:

“As punishment, you will make hay for a week starting tomorrow.”

“What?!”

“Everyone finishes this in a week. You’ve taken more than ten days. Sloth has consumed your body and mind. Hard labor will correct you.”

Meisel’s face turned red with anger.

“I’m a count’s daughter! Do you think you can make me do that and walk away unharmed?”

“If you refuse, you’ll skip lunch.”

“As if I want your pathetic bread crumbs! I wouldn’t eat them even if you gave them to me for free!”

The nun walked away, completely unfazed.

The nearby devotees glanced at Meisel, then returned to their tasks, uninterested.

‘How dare she treat me like this just because the monastery head isn’t here?’

At Gallid Monastery, self-sufficiency was the rule.

Devotees—who were basically treated like criminals—had to work every day to earn their food.

Meisel, as a noblewoman, received slightly better treatment only because her family sent donations.

Whenever the monastery head was away, the nuns took the chance to bully her out of jealousy.

‘Just wait until the head returns…’

But she bit her lip.

The favor she received was unspoken.
If she complained openly, she might end up in solitary confinement again.

Her eyes stung with frustration.

And meanwhile—
that woman was probably smiling beside the Grand Duke at this very moment.

Fury surged, and Meisel instinctively clutched the necklace around her neck.

It was the only personal belonging the monastery had not confiscated.

Every night she gripped the mana stone tightly, falling asleep while imagining the Grand Duchess meeting the most miserable end.

It was her only joy.

‘I’ll kill you someday, Grand Duchess.’

「Of course you will. The time is coming soon.」

The necklace resonated as if answering her thoughts.

Meisel didn’t even realize it.

She simply nodded faintly—
convinced that the time wasn’t far away.

***

“Now, let’s get to work.”

The early afternoon breeze drifted through the open window as Annette sat at her desk.

She had just returned from inspecting the lakeside shopping district.

The shopkeepers she hadn’t seen in a while were overflowing with energy.

― “Your Grace! Please have a cup of fresh juice!”

― “Please accept our gift! It’s a healing balm made from herbs we gathered ourselves!”

― “This is a paperweight carved by our village craftsman! It would be our honor if you used it!”

People said Blenheim had no real specialty goods.

That was completely wrong.

‘They simply never had a proper place to showcase them.’

Customers were amazed by the sheer variety of items.

It was a huge encouragement for the surrounding villages.

Many shops were cooperatives representing entire villages.

Villagers crafted specialty goods and took turns manning the shop.

― “We always thought it was just something every household dried at home. We never imagined people would pay for it!”

A jerky shop owner said proudly.

One success inspired another.
Villagers began creating more items, enriching the marketplace.

“Here is the list sorted by highest sales.”

Adem, recently promoted to administrative officer, handed her a document.

Annette circled the top three items—ignoring the few high-cost luxury goods.

“We’ll begin with these three shops.”

Adem smiled proudly.

“I’ll arrange meetings with the shopkeepers right away.”

These products, along with Snow Wine, would become signature Blenheim specialties.

Their popularity was already proven; all Annette needed to do was help them spread their wings.

She was happily envisioning the next steps when—

“Your Grace.”

Adem cleared his throat.

“We sent the official letter to the Merchants’ Guild, as you instructed…”

“No reply, right?”

“Yes.”

She had sent the letter yesterday morning.

She didn’t expect the guild leader, Baron Gelfry, to change—but it was his final chance.

“Should we remind them again?”

Annette shook her head gently.

They had already given more than enough time.

“Put up notices in Goldrain immediately.”

It was the perfect weather to welcome a new Merchants’ Guild leader.