Morning came early, the estate still half-asleep when Rivelius settled into his study with a ledger open in front of him he wasn’t entirely reading.
A knock came at the door.
"Enter."
Reyna stepped in. "The convoy’s ready to depart, my lord."
He nodded, and then paused.
"Reyna."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Why do you serve me?"
"...My lord?" Reyna paused. "I— I don’t quite understand the question, my lord."
"Your loyalty," Rivelius said. "Where does it come from."
"It’s my duty, my lord," Reyna said. "As a Captain in the Imperial—"
"Duty is certainly not enough motivation to put yourself in harm’s way for a wastrel such as myself. Is it?"
A pause.
"Especially not for someone with your strength," Rivelius added. "You could serve anywhere in the Imperial Army. Anywhere at all. You didn’t need to be sent here."
Reyna’s shoulders loosened, just slightly, the formal posture slipping. She dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I’m strong," Reyna said, quiet now, none of her usual crisp formality left in it. "But strength alone doesn’t get you far without connections behind it. Not in the Imperial Army. Not anywhere. And I have a younger brother depending on what I send home every month." A pause. "I couldn’t exactly walk away from a posting... whatever it turned out to be."
Silence settled between them for a moment before she looked up. Something almost like a smile crossed her face.
"And I have every reason to believe you’re not the wastrel people think you are."
Rivelius leaned back, resting his chin against his palm, elbows braced on the desk.
"And you say that because?"
"Have you seen the way you move, my lord?" Something in her voice loosened further, verging on genuine enthusiasm now. "The tigermaw bowed to you the moment you looked at it. You cut Lord Rolin’s ear off in a single motion without flinching, and then talked him into handing over a hundred men and full trade permits without so much as raising your voice—"
She caught herself a beat too late, the smile still lingering even as her posture straightened back into something more careful.
"Forgive me, my lord. That was— I meant no disrespect."
Rivelius said nothing.
For a moment, plain and unmistakable in her eyes, he saw something he hadn’t seen directed at him from anyone but Cordelia: genuine, undeniable respect.
"What about your parents?" He finally said.
"They passed when I was twelve, my lord."
"So it’s just you and your brother."
"Yes, my lord."
He nodded, filing it away with everything else, and rose from the desk.
"We should leave now."
Reyna nodded and fell into step behind him as he made his way down to the courtyard.
Cordelia was already there, waiting beside Mireille near the carriage. She smiled the moment she saw him approaching.
"You’re not in the carriage yet," he said, once he reached her.
"I was waiting for you."
[Aw.]
He ignored it, and bent to lift her from the chair, carrying her into the carriage the same way he always did.
"The banners, my lord?" Reyna asked, glancing toward the crest folded away since yesterday. "Should they go back on?"
"No."
The convoy formed up the same way it had the day before; two riders ahead, the lizard-mounts flanking the rear, Reyna mounted on Ashen beside the carriage.
"Move out," she called.
The road back to the county town passed differently this time. People stared, openly, some pointing, others murmuring to each other as the convoy rolled through the streets. Word of yesterday had clearly traveled fast. Reyna’s hand drifted to the hilt at her hip more than once, though nothing came of it.
The carriage stopped near a cluster of stalls dealing in seed stock and small farming necessities, nothing large yet, nothing that required carts or beasts of burden to haul away.
Rivelius helped Cordelia down, set her into the wheelchair, and the small group made their way toward the stalls; Cordelia, Reyna, two guards, and himself.
"Which one," he asked.
Cordelia studied the rows of seed sacks for a moment, humming thoughtfully to herself before pointing toward one in particular. "That one. Grain. It’s the most reliable crop to start with. It’s what most of the empire actually eats, and it stores well if the first harvest doesn’t go perfectly."
They made their way toward the stall.
The stall owner’s face lit up the moment he registered who was approaching. "My lord. My lady." He straightened immediately, all warmth and eagerness. "What can I get for you today?"
Behind them, the murmurs from neighboring stalls carried just far enough to be overheard.
"...it’s the good lord..."
Rivelius glanced over, and in front of him, Cordelia murmured the word under her breath. "Good lord?"
The stall owner heard it, and smiled wider, clearly delighted to explain. "Word travels fast, my lord. Everyone’s heard by now. Lord Rolin’s had this county under his thumb for years. The taxes are higher than they should be, but no one dared say a word against him." He shook his head. "Then some stranger noble rides in and puts him on his knees in the middle of the street. Folks are calling you the good lord ever since. Whether you meant it that way or not."
[Ha. They think you’re the good guy.]
[Reputation (REP): 16 → 37 ↑]
Cordelia glanced at him, smiling faintly at the stall owner’s words.
[10 EXP received.]
[Marital Instinct — Lv. 4. EXP: 2,790/3,500 to Lv. 5.]
"How much for a single cup?" Cordelia asked, gesturing toward the grain.
"Fifty copper, my lady. Though for you—" the owner glanced between them, still visibly pleased to have them there at all, "—I’ll do forty."
"And for the full sack?"
"Six silver."
Cordelia considered that a moment, already doing the math in her head. "And if I bought your entire stock? Every sack you have."
The owner blinked, clearly not expecting the question at that scale. "That would be... considerable, my lady. I’d have to check exactly how much I’ve got left in the back."
"Check, then," she said.
The man’s face brightened further at that, already turning toward the back of his stall. "Of course, my lady. I’ll have the full count ready for you in moment."
"I’ll come back for the total," Cordelia said, and gave him a small nod.
Then she looked up at Rivelius and smiled.
[10 EXP received.]
He didn’t bother questioning why. As far as he was concerned, the reason mattered considerably less than the number.
The rest of the morning passed in much the same fashion. Cordelia moved from stall to stall, weighing quality, comparing prices, negotiating small discounts wherever the "good lord" reputation made merchants generous. Grain first, then corn, then millet and a scattering of vegetable seed she wanted for smaller test plots before committing the bulk of the land to a single crop.
By the time she’d finished, the grain alone had cost just over three thousand silver, paid in full and left in storage with the sellers until the farm was ready to receive it.
They loaded back into the carriage not long after, and the convoy set off toward Ashfall Hold. Rivelius sat with his gaze fixed on the passing road outside the window, the marker flickering quietly at the edge of his vision.
[Wife mood: Content.]
[Marital Instinct — Lv. 4. EXP: 3,210/3,500 to Lv. 5.]
Across from him, Cordelia was watching him. There was something curious in her expression. "What are you thinking about?"
He turned to face her, and paused for a moment before answering.
"Do people believe someone’s a good person that easily?" he asked. "From doing so little?"
Cordelia tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"
"The people at the market. They think I’m some good lord."
She laughed, quick and unguarded.
[50 EXP received.]
He looked at her, flat. "What’s funny?"
She shook her head, still smiling, watching his face. "It doesn’t matter whether you are or not. Doesn’t matter what people think or say you are, actually."
He stared at her for a beat before speaking.
"So you don’t care if I’m some villain," he said. "A devil, even."
Cordelia considered that for a moment, studying his face, then slowly shook her head.
"Why not?"
"Because you’re..." Something flickered in her eyes, quick and unguarded, before she finished. "...my husband."
She looked briefly shy at the last word, then met his eyes again, still smiling.
[100 EXP received.]
[Marital Instinct — Lv. 4. EXP: 3,360/3,500 to Lv. 5.]
Rivelius held her gaze a moment longer, and found something in it he couldn’t quite name, not in this life, not in the one before it. Something no one, in either world, had ever looked at him with before.
He said nothing about it, and turned back to the window instead.
Cordelia smiled, and turned to look out her own side of the carriage as the convoy rolled on toward Ashfall Hold.