Chapter 79: Build
The next morning, as sunlight sifted through the curtains, the room still hung heavy with Annabel’s shallow breaths.
She had spent the night waking often; at times writhing in sweat, at times sitting bolt upright from sudden nausea that clutched her stomach. With the first light of dawn, her tired eyelids were half open, her cheeks carrying a pallid pink.
I, however, had been awake for some time and sat quietly at the edge of the bed. Watching her like that brought a strange clarity to my mind: this woman was no longer merely a lover or a confidante. She had become all the more precious to me because she carried another life at the center of mine.
I summoned the head housemaid. When she paused in the doorway, I lowered my voice as if speaking too loudly might disturb Annabel’s rest.
"Don’t prepare breakfast as usual this morning," I said. "I want a special tray for Annabel. Fresh fruit, softly cooked eggs, plenty of milk... anything that won’t upset her stomach. And be careful don’t put anything heavy on the tray. A woman in the early weeks of pregnancy is like delicate porcelain."
The head housemaid couldn’t hide the surprise in her eyes. It was likely the first time anyone in the house had been told Annabel was with child. Still, she asked no questions; she only inclined her head and disappeared quickly.
I returned to the bed and touched Annabel’s forehead. Her skin was still a little warm. Her body was strangely thin; no doubt the years spent in that old, filthy stable and poor nourishment had taken their toll.
Now with pregnancy, her weakened immune system was more apparent.
A muffled murmur escaped her lips. "Leonardo..."
"I’m here," I replied softly and took her hand. "How are you feeling?"
Her eyes fluttered open halfway; they were tired but carried an indistinct calm.
"My head is a little dizzy... I suppose this is what they call morning sickness," she said in a low voice. A shy smile hovered at the corner of her mouth, as if even this state might be counted as weakness in my eyes.
I straightened her pillow and propped her back. "Your body is changing, Annabel. You must let it adapt."
A moment of silence fell. Outside, birds were singing thinly. Just then, Lucareth stuck his head through the doorway. His hair was mussed, sleep still heavy in his eyes, but the excitement of the news he’d heard last night kept a smile from fully leaving his face.
"Mother... are you all right?" he whispered.
Annabel sent a gentle look to her son, then turned her eyes to me. I nodded. Lucareth slipped slowly to our side and clambered up onto the edge of the bed. With his small hands, he gripped his mother’s arm.
"I’ll protect you, okay? Don’t get tired. I’ll help Father too."
The child’s words heralded fresh tears in Annabel’s eyes. But this time the tears were not of fear; a new warmth caused them settling in her heart.
The head housemaid returned with the other servants bearing the breakfast tray and carefully set it down.
"These are for you, Annabel," I said as I brought the tray to the bed. "Things you can eat without strain. From now on, every morning will be like this."
Annabel lifted her head slightly and glanced at the tray. Thinly sliced apples, pieces of bread gleaming with honey, steaming-hot milk... a timid warmth spread across her pale face.
"Did you have this prepared for me?" she asked, voice a mixture of surprise and gratitude.
"No," I said with a faint smile, "for both of you. Remember? You’re two now."
Annabel’s slender fingers went to her belly as if to feel, in a tangible way, the life that was budding there. Lucareth followed his mother’s hand to her stomach, and a look of indescribable curiosity crossed his face.
"Is there... really a baby in there?" he asked.
Annabel smiled, her eyes misty. "Yes, sweetheart. Your sibling."
Lucareth’s eyes lit up; a solemnity mixed with childlike innocence settled on his face. It was as if the word sibling had suddenly summoned a heavy sense of responsibility. He set his jaw and sat up straight.
"I’ll teach them the sword!" he proclaimed with great determination. Then, his gaze shifted to me. "Right, Father? You teach me, and I’ll teach them. That way they’ll always be strong."
Annabel wavered between smiling at her son’s pure eagerness and choking into a sob. As her fingers threaded through Lucareth’s hair, for a moment the weariness etched on her face vanished, replaced by the unique pride of a mother.
"It’s still a long time until they’re born, Lucareth, but I will remember what you said."
The child’s face brightened as if he’d won a victory. Annabel looked at me with a weary smile. A little color returned to the edges of her lips, and her pallor seemed to ease. But when I stood, a slight tremor appeared in her eyes.
"I must go now. There are things I have to do." Turning to the head housemaid, I added, "Make sure she’s well fed."
The slight tremor that flashed across Annabel’s eyes made it painfully clear she did not want me to go. Yet she made no sound. To spare herself any sign of weakness, she placed a thin smile on her lips.
The head housemaid inclined her head in a deep salute. "Do not worry, sir, the lady will be well cared for." There was in her voiceless of the usual cool distance and a more subtle respect stirred by the news of a life about to begin.
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Two towns, seven villages, one port. These were what I possessed as Count Leonardo.
In fact, two of what I called villages were populous enough to be considered towns, but by income they were no different from a village. These two were lands I had received from Baron Sulka in the south and from Count Ronald.
There was also a port, small but promising. Aside from that, my own city Argenholt, though it had taken some wounds in the vampire attack, was generally profitable, and the other city belonged to Count Ronald.
There, on my behalf, Ironheart Mike maintained order and was organizing and expanding my new army. According to Mike’s latest report, the army’s numbers had long since exceeded ten thousand. Frankly, that figure was satisfying for now. I did not wish to allocate too much of the budget to the army at present, because I needed to develop my lands.
But improving the land was not as simple as I had imagined. Although on paper, the newly conquered territories belonged to me, the people still lived in the shadow of their former lords.
On Baron Sulka’s lands, the peasants had been nearly dispossessed by years of heavy taxation. In the region I’d taken from Ronald, the problem was different: the people had grown used to a rigid, ruthless order imposed by their old nobles. In their eyes, I remained a stranger.
This awareness forced me to a hard truth: a lord must rule not by the sword alone but by his treasury.
I opened the account ledgers on my desk. Income was itemized: customs from the port, tithes of grain and barley from the villages, tools from the trade caravans passing through Argenholt... and expenses: soldiers’ wages, wall repairs, treatment for the wounded, alms for widows and orphans, and so forth.
But I also had plunder from the war and treasures seized largely from Count Ronald’s coffers, amounting to roughly sixty thousand gold coins. In my own treasury there were about twenty thousand gold coins, making my total some eighty thousand gold coins.
The real question now was how to spend that money. In other words, what investments should I make?
As someone who had migrated from the modern world, I certainly had greater economic acumen than most in this realm. In my previous life, I had been a law student, and I had focused especially on corporate law because that’s where the money was.
As I studied the figures on the ledgers, a simple but effective principle from my former life came to mind: money attracts money.
War booty was a one-off fortune, but for sustainability I needed steady sources of income. Growing the army would, of course, increase my strength, but feeding, sheltering, and equipping soldiers is a continuous expense. So, my first aim would not be military but commercial. Without lasting profit, there could be no lasting army.
I thought of the port first. It was small but full of potential. If I invested there widened the quay, built warehouses, and made it convenient for merchants. I could make it the trade hub of the region. Merchants carried not only goods but information. And information could be more valuable than gold.
The second issue was the villages. Especially those on Baron Sulka’s lands were mired in misery. Starving people pay no taxes and offer no loyalty. I should distribute seed grain and support spring planting. Perhaps low-interest loans could revive the peasants.
There was a concept I’d learned in the old world: microcredit. Small loans to bolster the populace could, in the long run, return to me both produce and fidelity.
Third were Ronald’s old lands. The people there were accustomed to order and discipline, but they still regarded me as an outsider. I needed a bold but clever investment there. For example, a market square. A grand weekly market would not only boost trade but give people something to say: "Look, prosperity has come with our new lord." Buying loyalty with spectacle could be as effective as any policy.
Then, a bolder idea came to me. If I established a few iron mines and woodworking shops, I could supply my army internally and generate exportable goods for income.
I bent over the table, took up my pen, and outlined a plan:
Of the eighty thousand gold coins, twenty thousand could go toward the port and trade investments, fifteen thousand to support the peasants, twenty thousand to production facilities. The remaining twenty-five thousand would remain in reserve for now.
I closed the ledger. A long road lay ahead, but a strange excitement swelled within me. From now on, I would have to think not only as a count but as a merchant as well.