“We have five 2nd class knights and fifteen 3rd class knights, 50 officers, and 100 volunteer soldiers. Whatever you need them to do, tell me and I will have them do it. Unfortunately, they can’t stay past a month.” Heir Serio Marron explained, handing over several official documents to the Marchioness sitting in front of him. “I also brought 1 Baron and 13 sons of various County noble houses who’ve been trained in various aspects of fief management. Tomorrow 2 retired Viscounts will come over as well. The retired Viscounts say they can stay for up to three months, the Baron a month, and the 13 noblemen as long as needed. If the noblemen prove useful, they are willing to stay indefinitely. Their families can’t use their talents and they are eager to make a name for themselves.”

Felicia looked at the document she’d been given, nodding as he spoke. One document was giving Marron County permission to let their troops occupy Fresa March and then listing the names and ranks of everyone involved. The other was giving temporary power to the various nobles and noblemen to enforce rule-of-law over the March. Last was a document clearly stating when each group would leave. There were three copies of each she had to sign: one to keep, one to go back to Count Marron, and the third to go to the King. Or at least one of his clerks, who would then file it away somewhere most likely.

Whenever nobles helped each other, paperwork was always involved.

As she was signing, she said, “Send my hearty thanks to the Count and Countess. The troops and nobles will be a great help in bringing order back to the March. That traitor had his fingers in everything. Just thinking about the amount of nobles I’ll have to execute already is giving me a headache. Half the towns in the March won’t have a Lord by the end of the week.”

Heir Serio raised his eyebrows. “That bad?”

“Mmhmm.”

“How is…” Heir Serio hesitated. He’d arrived the day after the disposed Viscount had been executed. Because of the amount of people coming along with him, he’d had to deal with business first before inquiring about the Fresa Heir.

“He is alive, to which I am thankful.” Felicia paused and then sighed, setting down her pen for a moment. “I can’t say he’s doing well beyond that though. Between the torture and losing his hand, I’m afraid he’s in a lot of shock. Not to mention the pain.”

“Naturally.” Heir Serio looked at the Marchioness sympathetically. “I am sorry we can not do more to help.”

She snorted, quickly putting her signature down and stamping the paper with the Fresa herald.

“Your parents have done everything they are legally allowed to do to help me. How could I—”

“Brother! Where are you?! Get over here and help me—!!!”

Felicia stopped talking in surprise. That yell had come from outside. It was so loud it pierced through the glass window.

Heir Serio stood up, his expression one of alarm.

“Mother told her not to come!”

Felicia’s face twitched from trying not to laugh.

“It seems she didn’t listen.”

“Excuse me Marchioness!” He gave a quick bow before running out of the office.

Felicia finished signing the rest of the paperwork while she waited. After she was done, she turned to the young man standing to the side.

“Mister Petiso, put this away for me. And these need to be sent to the King first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, Marchioness.”

With the death of the Viscount, there’d been a re-arrangement of workers within the Mansion. The people she trusted were instantly promoted and those who she didn’t were tied up somewhere until she could deal with them later.

Most of the mansion workers were neutral and would follow whoever was in power. They weren’t hauled away, but neither were they promoted. They knew without being told their cowardness had cost them a big opportunity. But it was better to be alive to regret, then dead from taking a risk.

This was the nature of most humans. They often picked their survival over things like loyalty and doing the right thing. Truly loyal, moral people turned out to be rare. Felicia was a little disappointed at this discovery but getting angry wouldn’t change anything.

She supposed she was lucky enough to find so many top quality people despite the abysmal state of her fief.

Petiso was an example of a quality person. Loyal and smart. She had brought him in when he was 13 and over the last few years taught him the in’s and out’s of running a fief. The moment the Viscount died, she kicked out Barrera’s office lacky and replaced him with Petiso.

As Petiso was taking the papers to put away, Heir Serio came back. This time with a girl of about 14 years old. She had a riding outfit on and looked dusty. Likely she’d ridden non-stop to get here.

The moment she saw Felicia, she burst into tears.

Running over to Felicia, she hugged her and cried out, “Aunty! I’m so glad you’re alright!”

Felicia stroked the girl’s back soothingly.

“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

“It’s simply awful what happened!” The teenage girl sniffled loudly and declared indignantly, “I’m so mad! If you hadn’t killed that awful man, I would have! Papa taught me how to use a dagger, I could definitely do it!”

“Enthusiastic about justice, I like it.” Felicia chuckled before pulling the girl off her. “Montana, I heard your Mother didn’t want you to come?”

Montana tensed, glancing at the Marchioness’ face and biting her lower lip.

“I had to come though! How could I not come after hearing what happened to… to.. Rido…” Her eyes filled with tears again, once again devolving into crying.

Heir Serio sighed, hands folded across his chest.

“This is why Mother said you shouldn’t come. Exactly how are you helping anyone crying all over the Marchioness?”

Montana glared at her brother through her tears. “I can be moral support!”

Serio rolled his eyes.

“I can help take care of Rido too.”

Felicia frowned. “Ah, that might be a while.”

“What? Did the amputation not go well?” Montana asked anxiously. “Is he very sick?”

“No, that went fine…”

“Then—”

“My dear, it is already hard for him to accept the loss of his hand.” Felicia put a hand on Montana’s cheek and looked into her eyes. “It is not just his body, but his heart and mind are in turmoil. He is not ready to deal with guests.”

“But I wouldn’t be a guest, I’d be helping!”

“Montana, I can’t get him to talk to me. He won’t even look me in the face. His own mother. How do you think you’ll be treated?”

“He… he won’t look at you?”

“He won’t.”

“But why?!”

Felicia was quiet for a moment.

“Any number of reasons. I won’t know until he’s willing to talk to me again.” She raised her eyebrows. “Until he’s ready to receive guests, I’m sorry. You can’t help with his recovery.”

“Oh….” Montana looked down, lips quivering and sniffed pitifully.

Felicia took Montana’s hands and squeezed them.

“Thank you for being willing. I’m sure when he’s come to terms with what happened to him, he’ll appreciate knowing you came all this way, against your parents orders, wanting to help.”

Montana looked up, a little hopeful.

“R-really?”

“That’s right. And… well… having a charming young lady keep me company, how could I reject that?” She gave her a teasing smile. “Though I must warn you, I will be quite busy in the days ahead. You may find me boring company.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be bored! And I won’t cause any trouble either!” Montana side eyed her brother while saying so and stood up a little straighter. “Papa says when things go wrong, you’ve got to learn from them. Every failure, even another person’s, is a chance to grow. I’ll use this time to grow!”

Felicia raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’ve failed?”

Montana opened her mouth and then closed it, her expression awkward.

Felicia laughed. “In fact, things getting this bad.... The Count isn’t wrong.” She looked at Montana from top to bottom. “Putting all that aside, you’re absolutely covered in dust. How about I call someone over to get you some new clothes and a room to change in?”

After Felicia did so and Montana was sent away, Heir Serio scratched his cheek and looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry about this Marchioness. She’s really got no sense at all of her own abilities. She’s bothered my parents and now you too by coming here...”

“It’s no problem.” Felicia's face brightened. “I’ll keep her close and out of trouble.”

“If you’re being polite, there is no reason. I can have one of the officer’s tie her up and send her home.”

“I’m not being polite. She’ll learn the ins-and-outs of how the March is run following me around.”

“Somehow I doubt it.” Serio snorted. “She’s lived with my parents all this time and never managed to retain anything.”

“So little faith in your own sister...”

“It can’t be helped. Out of all my sisters, she’s been the most flighty and disobedient.”

“If you’re only judging her by current social standards, perhaps.”

His forehead wrinkled, “...what other standards are there to judge her by, if not the current ones?”

Felicia chuckled. “By the standards of her future mother-in-law, of course.”

Heir Serio was well aware of his mother and the Marchioness desire to set his sister up with Heir Rido. He didn’t understand it and thought the match wasn’t very good. But it also wasn’t his business to interfere, so he never said anything. However, this was a perfect opportunity to ask.

“Exactly what do you see in my little sister?”

“Oh, so many things! Let me see…. She’s curious and enthusiastic about the world around her. She’s persistent and can endure troubles if she believes in her cause. She’s honest and forthright with her thoughts and feelings.” Felicia smiled. “And lastly, most importantly, she sincerely loves my son.”

***

“Lord Curtidor, you have arrived. I must say I’m quite surprised.”

The retired-knight-turned-teacher walked in with a slight limp, taking his long all-weather jacket off as he did. The temperatures had dipped sharply the last few days and the wind had picked up. His hair was a mess and he was breathing heavily, indicating he had not bothered to rest after dismounting his horse and came directly to the office.

“I came as soon as I got the message.” Without preamble he walked to a chair in front of Felicia’s desk and sat down. Immediately Tie handed him a large cup of warm spirits, a light alcoholic drink typically served during autumn and winter. He thanked her and began drinking.

“I am fairly certain I told the messenger it wasn’t an emergency…” Felicia commented, eyebrows raised slightly.

“The message was passed on accurately.” His gaze wandered to a young lady sitting next the Marchioness as he spoke, an unasked question on his face. “But with the way things are right now, if I didn’t hurry you’d not see me until next year.”

Felicia clucked her tongue in annoyance before introducing, “This is Young Lady Marron, youngest daughter of Count Marron. She’s been assisting and keeping me company during these trying times. You may speak freely in front of her.”

Montana blushed slightly at the formal introduction and gave a nod to Lord Curtidor before saying, “It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Curtidor.”

Lord Curtidor blinked and then nodded slowly. It seemed the Marchioness had not set aside her plans to unite the Fresa and Marron households. How she managed to think of that in the midst of all the chaos in the fief was really something…

“The honor is mine, Young Lady.”

“Things have still not settled down among the knights?” Felicia inquired after they’d exchanged the bare minimum introductions.

Lord Curtidor slapped the knee of his good leg and scowled.

“That bast—” He stopped himself, realizing there was a girl present and reworded, “—traitor has corrupted every rank in every order within March and County.”

“Surely you’re not surprised?”

“Surprised? No, just disappointed...” His shoulders slumped slightly. “In my time the corruption was not so bad, I had thought... Even if those above us were morally dubious, we lived with honor in our day to day lives…. But of course back then, the old guard dogs of the March, like my Master, still held influence...” He exhaled sadly as he thought of better, simpler times.

“Even if they are corrupt, I can’t strip all of them of their knighthood. The Order of Greenwood doesn’t have enough people to make up for losing the other orders. We must salvage what we can.” Felicia pursed her lips in annoyance.

All fiefs had to maintain a certain number of trained knights that the King could call on in case a war broke out. Laws concerning standing military were treated seriously by the Royal Family. Having too many was a danger to the crown and neighboring nobles, having too few was a fatal weakness that could bring the whole country down during a conflict. Therefore if a noble failed to maintain their knight orders, they’d be stripped of their title and replaced.

Lord Curtidor grimaced in understanding and scratched his short beard thoughtfully.

“I have already identified the worst offenders.” He said slowly, thinking aloud. “Perhaps, as a stop gap measure, we can execute them and then promote the ones who committed the least offensive crimes… hm… but the major issue is their pages and squires. They’ll inevitably pick up the dishonorable conduct of their Masters… but dismissing them outright... seems too extreme...”

Felicia put her elbows on the table, propping her chin up with her entwined fingers and closed her eyes in thought.

Knights took in young boys as pages and older boys as squires. The relationship between the boys and their Master, the knight, was somewhere between teacher/student and father/son. The types of boys that became pages and squires fell into two camps: the “blue bloods”, those who were related to knights or nobles, or unwanted children who had nowhere else to go. For the latter’s case, they were often orphans or children from impoverished families who couldn’t afford to feed them.

While the unwanted children depended on their Masters to live, the blue bloods were only better off in that they had a family to feed them. Both groups would lose their place in society if they lost their position as knight’s students. To dismiss them as students would be the same as a death sentence, socially and literally, for them.

Of course, with Felicia’s position, it shouldn’t matter. That is, she shouldn’t care about whether those pages and squires lived or died. It was more important to maintain her control over her knights. She could, theoretically, use those children to bully them into obedience. If the knights cared about them deeply enough for that to work, that is. Which was already doubtful.

This was the unfortunate nature of aristocratic societies. They were rigid and stratified. Those in power maintained it with an iron fist and those without power just had to deal with the whims of those that had it. If a person lost their place in such a system, it was considered retribution from God for some hidden evil they’d committed in their life. There was no mercy and no compassion. Rather than pity, they’d be shunned as if they had a disease other’s could catch just by being near them. And as far as Felicia could tell, the entire world worked under this horrible system.

Count Marron's political faction, called Loyalists, were unpopular for bucking this tried and true way of living. It was revolutionary for daring to tell the powerful they owed something to those below them. It applied the religious concept of “created equal under God” directly into society, forming this world's version of noblesse oblige. If Loyalists gained a real foothold within Salvias and could spread their philosophy outward, it would shake the foundations of the entire region and perhaps the world….

Though the mission objective never specified how Rido was supposed to positively change this timeline, Felicia suspected it was this way. By changing this one aspect of society, it would allow people to flourish and flounder. The process of freely being able to succeed and fail based on their own efforts instead of who birthed them was how the world improved and people lived better, healthier lives each generation.

It was her hope that through popularizing Marron’s political and social system, she could bring this world near to her original world’s standard of living. Perhaps even better, because she might be able to implement it without as many revolutions and beheadings as happened in her world. Though that was just a hope and already proving difficult if her fief was any example to go by.

Still, she often dreamed of a better future for Rido and those that would come after him...

But back to the present!

Felicia naturally didn’t want to cut off a child’s livelihood and future. Despite her host’s apathy, she wasn’t heartless. But leaving them in the care of men who proved to be morally bankrupt wasn’t an option. Some other method was needed…

She opened her eyes as she thought of something.

“We will have to think outside of the constraints of tradition.” She said, straightening her spine. “Who trains conscripts during a war?”

“Ah, that would be sergeants.”

“And the commoners conscripted aren’t trained one-on-one, correct?”

“No, as a group by the sergeants. If we trained them one-on-one, it would take too long.”

“Do you know any sergeants?”

Lord Curtidor paused and then his eyes widened in realization, “You don’t mean to have sergeants teach—”

“Yes and not only that.” She grinned, eyes narrowing in delight. “Didn’t Barrera build a huge house to rival Fresa Mansion? Why not convert it into a school?”

“....school?” He looked completely confused. Weren’t schools for teaching things like reading, governing, and religion? And knights already teach their students to be literate. So what good would a school be for warriors?

“Yes, a military school. Instead of focusing on philosophy and politics, this school will teach things related to war and fighting. It will be highly disciplined and rigorous…” She rubbed her chin. “And they will be grouped into classes, learning to fight as a unit and valuing their honor as a group over their honor as a single man. When they’ve completed the courses, they will be sent to trustworthy knights— oh, I’ve a better idea. We can have a test and let the knights pick the classes they like best. Those knights will be put into the orders that are hurting for people...”

The more she talked, the farther Lord Curtidor’s mouth fell open. He’d never heard of school like that in his entire life!

“What do you think?” She asked, eyes sparkling.

He snapped his mouth shut and thought seriously about her proposal. He’d been working with her long enough to know better than discounting an idea simply because it’d never been done before.

After a bit, he said, “Will Barrera’s home be able to hold that many students? If you’re talking about collecting every page and squire, that will be a large number. Not to mention, the cost and time involved…”

“It is worth the money to break the cycle of corruption. The time would still be an issue regardless, since squires can’t become knights until they are 18. As for housing…” She looked towards the ceiling, slightly to her left, as if in thought.

DARS was directly in her line of sight, having been there the whole time, listening quietly.

‘What do you think? Will housing be a problem?’

[It’s true the location in question is not big enough. However, that is not the only location in Floreciente that is empty. Barrera’s followers that lived there were also executed. Their homes were large as well and could be converted into dorms. By putting several bunk beds in each room, you could squeeze up to 8 children into a single room depending on its size. You might consider recruiting the elderly that are loyal to the Escudo family to be Dorm managers.]

‘Thanks DARS!’ Felicia thought, giving him a mental thumbs up for his quick thinking. She repeated the information she’d been given, with some modifications, to the man in front of her.

“Then…. I suppose the next thing would be what would be taught and who would be doing the teaching.” Lord Curtidor said thoughtfully.

“My suggestion is to find the most experienced sergeants for practical aspects of fighting and experienced knights who’ve retired for theoretical subjects such as war tactics and regional history.”

“History?”

“Of course. How can you beat an enemy you don’t understand?”

“....ah.” He supposed that was true.

“Do you know anyone?”

“Of course.”

In the last 10 years, Lord Curtidor had expanded his connections thanks to his dealings with Robin Hood, now called Baronet Escudo. Most of his Master’s generation were dead but a few still lived and his generation was still very much alive. The majority had defected to Baronet Escudo, training farmers and craftsmen in the art of fighting and tactics, or battling the former-Viscount directly.

“Very good. We’ll talk about that more in depth later, for now I would like to talk about the original reason I called you here.”

“Oh right.” He’d almost forgotten he’d come at her request and not to report on his findings.

She took a piece of paper that had been sitting in front of her and handed it to the Young Lady, who then walked over and gave it to Lord Curtidor. After reading the first few lines, his expression turned incredulous.

“Me? A Viscount???”

“Mmhmm. I plan on sending a letter to the King requesting your title be inheritable. Since I’m lacking a permanent Viscount, I doubt he’ll turn it down. I would like to give Baronet Escudo back his family title of Baron, but due to the charges of treason against his father that will require more time.”

“...inheritable…” He mumbled, still stunned.

Any higher noble could give out the titles Viscount and lower to whoever they liked, but they were only for that one person. To have the title passed down to children required the King’s consent. A lower noble who could inherit their title was considered more influential than the “one and done” titles given out by higher nobles.

Felicia nodded, “Oh yes, speaking of children. I recommend marrying Madam Flor before you’re officially announced a Viscount.”

Lord Curtidor froze, a subtle red blush working its way up from his neck.

Madam Flor, once Rido’s Nanny, remained employed at the mansion long after her charge grew up. Her “official” duties were maintaining and cleaning Rido’s room and belongings. But in truth she was the only other person besides Felicia who knew that Rido’s hair was dyed. It was her sole and sacred duty to keep his hair perfectly black at all times. She had a secondary role as secret messenger, which occasionally required her to leave the Mansion but never for long stretches of time.

Initially, Nanny Flor’s secret messenger services were used to contact Claro Curtidor. To make being seen with him believable, she chased him all over the Mansion like some love struck fool. Everyone outside the people involved thought Claro was in a weird, scandalous love triangle between the mute Nanny and the lascivious Marchioness.

Perhaps because they had the same things to commiserate over—dealing with a weird boss and their reputations being in tatters—they ended up getting along extremely well over the years. At some point the like turned to love, though it was unspoken and few noticed the change. Felicia was close to both and noticed first.

Felicia humorously thought that what really did Claro Curtidor in was the quantity and variety of ways in which Nanny Flor enthusiastically threw herself at him. At first she’d been shy, but over time she adapted. Eventually she perfected her flirtation skills and, being the constant target, Claro fell quickly thereafter.

The only thing Felicia felt bad about was that they’d had to put their relationship on hold thanks to her. She brought them together but also kept them apart. This was partly why she was bringing up marriage to him, to alleviate her guilty conscience.

“Noble marriages are quite the hassle and I dare say you’ve both waited long enough. If you wait any longer, one of you is going to die of frustration. Just exchange your Crest Coins and move in together. Do it today! I’ll be your witness in case anyone gives you trouble about it.” She paused and added thoughtfully, “You can use the little cottage out in the woods for the next few nights. Madam Flor used to live there with my son, she’ll know where to go. That way you both can have plenty of privacy and the other servants won’t be woken up by your—”

“Marchioness!” He cried out in embarrassment.

“What?”

“How could you talk about— about— especially in front of a child!”

Felicia paused and turned to the teenager who’d been sitting quietly next to her.

“What do you say my dear? Am I being shameless?”

Montana had a slight blush on her cheeks and a mischievous look in her eye. Rather than behaving like a modest young lady who should be scandalized, she looked as if she was suppressing her laughter.

The Young Lady turned to Felicia and grinned cheekily.

“Why, Marchioness, I think you’re the pinnacle of thoughtfulness! Giving newlyweds a space of their own and saving everyone else the annoyance of having to listen to them. I’d have never thought of such a thing myself, but now I’ll never ever forget your shining example.”

Felicia turned to the blushing man in front of her and smirked.

Lord Curtidor internally groaned, recognizing he was being ganged up on for their amusement. If he continued to object, they’d only heckle him more severely. The phrase “two peas in a pod” flashed across his mind and he felt his spirit sag. If this young lady really became the next Marchioness, he’d have to deal with two of them rather than one.

He vaguely wondered if he should grow his beard out more, to offset the balding head he was sure to suffer from after his Lord was married...

Straightening his face, which was still pink, he tried to change the topic to something less threatening.

“Are you sure you want me as a Viscount? You are aware of my family history…”

“Why would that be a problem?”

“Though I’m illegitimate, I am one of the only sons born of the Fresa lineage. Unless you plan on getting rid of all the witnesses, at some point that will come out. People might push me forward to fight for Marquess title...”

Lord Curtidor felt it was better to talk about his family’s sordid past than to have his bed matters aired in front of a teasing Marchioness and Young Lady.

“Oh that!” Felicia waved her hand dismissively. “As far as that goes, I’d say your lineage is more a boon than a problem. They can’t just strip my son of his right to the Fresa title simply because you exist. He was named the heir in the Marquess’ will, after all. My son would have to show gross negligence or you’d have to agree to fight for the title yourself.” She raised her eyebrow, “Unless you plan on trying to take the title…”

“Of course not!”

“Exactly. And my son will never fail in his duties.” Felicia spoke with the utmost confidence. “Therefore, having you support him will be a boon. One of the few sons in the Fresa line are directly supporting and working under the Heir. This only further legitimizes his claim to the title.” She tilted her head. “Speaking of my son, go to his room and see if you can’t do something about him.”

Lord Curtidor furrowed his brow. Though he’d wanted to be with his prize student during such a difficult time, they were pressed for reliable people. He’d been sent out almost immediately after Heir Rido had lost his arm and not been back for quite some time.

“What do you mean do something? I have heard he is healing well?”

He’d suffered from a debilitating fever and blood sickness that had almost ended his life after getting his foot amputated. In his mind, as long as there were no further complications then what could be wrong?

“Hah! His body is fine, it’s his needlessly stubborn temper that is the problem! He is being intolerable!” She smacked her desk, fiercely scowling. “He won’t get out of bed, he barely eats or drinks, and basically mopes around like a dog who’s been whipped. Is his arm more important than his future as a Marquess?! If I must put up with his sulking another day, I am going to go crazy! So do something about it!”

“I haven’t been able to see him even once since I arrived.” The Young Lady added, looking disheartened and pitiful.

“See?” Felicia pointed at Montana. “How can he improve his heart when he denies himself the help of a beautiful girl like Lady Montana?”

“Aw… Marchioness…” Montana blushed, ducking her head.

“It’s true my dear.” Felicia patted the younger woman on the arm. “One’s mental health is most important, and it starts with surrounding oneself with only the most beautiful things. Stuck in his room like a dying man, how can he possibly improve? Look at me, I only surround myself with the most handsome men and aren’t I happy?”

Montana blinked and tilted her head, as if seriously considering this advice.

Lord Curtidor felt his intelligence might drop if he listened further. He stood up hastily and gave a slight bow. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Felicia smiled in relief. “Good. You have some experience with that sort of thing. I am confident in your abilities.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She waved a dismissing hand and he right-away left.

Once he was gone, Felicia was silent for several seconds, watching the open door.

When she felt Lord Curtidor was a proper distance. She turned to Tie, who’d been standing nearby.

“Go to Madam Flor. Tell her to pack her things to that place I was talking about before and make sure she takes her Crest Coin. Oh, and—” She rummaged through a drawer in her desk and pulled out a heavy keychain filled with keys. She threw it to Tie, who caught it smoothly. “Give these keys to her and tell her to help the Lord Knight pack.”

Tie grinned mischievously. “And make sure to remind her to bring his Crest Coin?”

Instead of wedding rings, people in this region exchanged family crests, in the shape of a coin. For people of Flor and Claro’s position, their coins would be carved from wood. Felicia’s host had one, but it was made of solid gold and locked away somewhere.

“Exactly.”

Tie turned around to do as she’d been instructed when Felicia remembered something.

“Oh yes, tell the stable hand to get a carriage ready for them to ride out immediately.”

The young woman chuckled at this suggestion before finally leaving.

Montana turned to her and said with a hesitant look on her face.

“Is it really alright to force it on him like that?”

“Force it?” Felicia rolled her eyes. “My dear, those two have been wanting to get married for years now. But that man prioritizes his duties first and Madam Flor prioritizes his priorities. The fief won’t be cleaned up in a week or a month, maybe not a year.” She sighed. “Since it’s going to be that way, why should they put it off? They might as well get the deed done and multiply those loyal to the Heir.”

“Multiply?” The Young Lady looked confused. “What does that mean?”

“Babies my dear, babies.”

“Ooooooh….”

“Though of course I want them both to be happy, I’m not being selfless either. I am severely lacking in qualified, loyal individuals. Though I can do nothing about it at the moment, I can at least set things up so that my son will not suffer in the same way.”

Montana stared at the Marchioness with wide eyes.

“That’s thinking so far ahead…”

“Naturally. If I don’t think that far ahead, who will in my fief?”