Chapter 91. First Line

“I can stay. It’s not like there is a Council meeting or anything today...” Miller commented, hugging Francesca tightly in bed. She shook her head. “I will be fine. I told you, it’s alright.” Gently pushing his chest to urge him up, she finished, “The cable cart's first transport line is being laid down the mountain today. You have to be there.”

“But-” Miller tried to protest, but Francesca gave him a stern, unyielding look. Faint, red outlines from her tears were still visible beneath her golden eyes, betraying her exhaustion.

Though very reluctant, Miller finally nodded. “I will be right back after checking up on the construction...”

He got up to wash and get ready for the day. As he left the bedroom area, she lay back down and stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in her heavy, grieving thoughts for nearly half an hour.

When Miller finally emerged from the bathroom, buttoning up his crisp shirt, he spoke in a soft, gentle voice. “We can always adopt a child. Just like you said... after the Holy Civil War is over, both the Central Church and the Imperial registry will recognize them just as they would blood related children.”

“Of course I know that...” Francesca replied, sitting back up against the bedframe. She smiled bitterly. “I convinced Lady Frederica to cooperate on that exact premise, after all. It’s just that, even though I know it in my head, my heart... it just feels overwhelmed right now. I just need some time alone.”

Miller walked over, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Do you remember the game Monkey’s Paw?”

“The game where one person makes a wish, and the other replies with a condition that ruins it?” Francesca nodded, leaning in to kiss him back.

Miller smiled, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed as he struggled to tie his cravat. “Of course you know it. You always love games.”

He continued to fumble with the silk fabric until Francesca softly pushed his hands away, taking over the familiar task of tying it for him. He watched her face gently as he continued, “Once, when we were kids, we used to play it all the time. Let's say you try starting with a simple wish.”

“I wish for a garden full of rose plants?” Francesca offered, deftly finishing the knot on his cravat.

Miller immediately replied, “But all the roses are infested with slugs that eat the petals.”

He reached up and gently patted her silver hair. “See how such a simple, beautiful situation had an obstacle thrown right at it? Making you lose. That is just how life is, Francesca. Everything cannot be smooth sailing… there will always be sudden storms making the journey tough.”

Francesca looked visibly disappointed by the analogy. “It’s not fair. The one who makes the wish always loses in this game because they have to go first.”

Miller’s smile widened as he stood up from the bed. “But Francesca... no one ever said the first player doesn’t get another turn.”

Francesca’s golden eyes widened as the realization hit her. “So... then I wish for the gardeners to pick out all the slugs until the roses can finally bloom.”

Miller pulled his daily documents from the bedside drawer and nodded proudly. “See? Nothing ever stays ruined forever. There is a silver lining to everything... we just have to be willing to find it.”

Francesca chuckled lightly at his slightly awkward, but genuinely sweet attempt at motivation. “When did you become so obnoxiously positive? Where did my self deprecating, gloomy husband go?”

Miller pulled the heavy bedroom door open. As he took a step out into the hall, he glanced back over his shoulder with a soft smirk. “Well... I happen to have a pretty incredible wife who shares my worries now.”

With that, he quietly closed the door behind him.

Hidden Cave, Melony Lake, Ironwood Viscounty

“I heard you ran into some sort of trouble, Uncle Aron?” Miller asked Chief Craftsman Aron over the ambient noise of the bustling worksite.

The older man smiled heartily, pointing toward the two parallel wooden rails laid down the steepest, most stable slope of the mountainside, extending far down into the misty valley.

“The mechanism was starting to crumble under its own sheer weight, even though it was built to distribute the load evenly,” Craftsman Aron sighed, wiping grease from his brow. “It was quite a headache. The full mechanism was simply too massive compared to the small prototype we tested.”

“Wait... then what do we do now?” Miller asked with genuine concern.

Aron shook his head, his confident smile returning. “Her Ladyship had a few brilliant suggestions written in the 'hypothetical issues' section of her blueprints.” He tapped a finger against his chin and added, “We decided to break the line into four distinct stages, staggering the transport route across four separate anchor points down the Ironwood mountain.”

“Ah... is that why you chose this particular side? It features natural plateaus that can be used to anchor each station,” Miller mused, understanding the engineering pivot.

Aron nodded, gesturing broadly at the sprawling loading platform. “Exactly. We have only finished construction down to the first stop station. If this official test works, we can continue expanding the chain all the way down to the Hollowland Viscounty border.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Miller asked, looking up at the towering wooden structure. “We should begin the test.”

Aron nodded firmly in agreement. Turning to the crew, he began shouting rapid commands, ordering the blacksmiths, haulers, and carpenters to fall back behind a safe perimeter. Miller and Kenny stepped back to a protected vantage point overlooking the tracks.

“Alright, get set!” Aron bellowed.

Miller adjusted his thick coat against the biting wind, his crimson eyes glued to the rig. Every single craftsman and mercenary worker held their breath, their hearts pounding in unison against the quiet cavern air.

“Release!”

CLANK! CLATTER-CLATTER-CLANK!

The sudden, deafening roar of grinding metal shattered the silence of the mountain. The heavily laden cart lurched forward and plunged down the slope, its sheer momentum pulling the empty return cart upward in an instant. The massive, fat coated chain bundles spun furiously over the iron pulleys, creating a terrifying screeching noise that echoed through the high altitude winds like a roaring beast. Dust, wood shavings, and flecks of black grease flew everywhere as the heavy wooden sled plummeted down the steep ironwood rails at a dizzying pace.

Raising his hand high in the air, Aron delivered a sharp, decisive downward signal to a worker standing beside a heavy timber mechanism at the edge of the platform below.

At calculated intervals along the track, thick wooden sand-drag wedges lined with heavy, reinforced leather pressed directly against the main pulley drums. The worker at the top station manually cranked a massive wooden lever, tightening a system of thick tension ropes that forced the leather brakes against the spinning metal.

SCREEEEEECH!

With a spectacular shower of sparks and a cloud of rising friction smoke, the wildly spinning chain slowed to a smooth, controlled crawl. The heavy sled glided effortlessly along its wooden rails, coming to a soft, perfect halt right at the first lower platform anchored to the hillside.

“That is incredible... Just two more stops and it will reach the Hollowland Viscounty?” Miller praised in excitement, watching the successful run. “It covered such a massive distance in so little time!”