Chapter 92. Hollowland Viscounty

The Viscount’s Bedroom, Ironwood Castle

“Should you really be working, Your Ladyship?” Stella asked, a deep expression of genuine concern forming on her face.

Francesca turned away from the mirror, pulling herself up from the dressing table with the support of her cane. Tak... tak... The rhythmic sound of the wooden cane resounded loudly against the floor of the quiet bedroom.

“Of course. If anything, I think I desperately need something to work on just to keep myself distracted,” she replied, forcing a strained, bitter smile.

Stella bit her lip, replying hesitantly, “But... Lord Miller explicitly asked me to make sure you rested before he left for the lake...”

“Oh, come on, Stella. I will be fine. Let’s head to the office and see what I can work on.” Francesca reached her hand forward. Stella let out a defeated sigh, gently taking her arm to give her support as the two of them walked slowly out of the room.

The Viscount’s Office, Ironwood Castle

“I will go bring you some breakfast then, since you haven’t eaten a thing yet,” Stella said as Francesca settled into the Vice Head's heavy oak desk, faced with a pile of pending documents.

“Sure...” Francesca replied absentmindedly, already picking up the first report from the stack.

“Investigation of the shallow hole at the temporary kitchen construction site and discovery of black sand?” she muttered, reading the lengthy title aloud.

“Ah, that is the document Kenny mentioned you asked for,” Stella added, pausing at the door. “Builder Gino officially investigated the underlying cause of the sinkhole that you and Lord Miller fell into.”

With that, Stella left to fetch the food. Francesca nodded to herself, reading the builder’s report slowly, line by line.

Hmm... Black sand that naturally only appears at the bottom of the lake? And it creates shallow sinkholes when disturbed by movement... She tapped her chin in thought. It feels oddly like something I have heard about before.

“I cannot assume that I know everything just because of my past lives... that kind of blind overconfidence is exactly what led me right into Ivan’s hands,” she muttered out loud, catching herself. Shaking her head to clear her ego, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began writing a checklist. “I will add this to the list of things needing further investigation.”

Setting it aside, she went back to the pile. “Hmm... Next are the reports about the chicken coop, the Moringa farm experiment, and... what is this?” Francesca picked up the documents one by one, but the last one immediately caught her interest.

“Past Trade Agreements with Hollowland Viscounty.” she read out loud.

Knock knock.

“I have returned, Your Ladyship,” Stella's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Francesca gave her permission to enter without even looking up. Her eyes remained glued to the trade document as she absently twirled a strand of silver hair around her finger in deep thought.

So, the Hollowland Viscounty was actually the very first neighboring territory to reach out and lend a hand as soon as Miller took up his role as the Lord? Then why on earth did Miller abruptly cancel the trade agreement with them?

“Here is your breakfast, My Lady,” Stella said, efficiently placing the warm dishes onto an empty spot on the desk.

As she set down the final plate, she happened to glance over at the document Francesca was reading.

“Ah... Lord Hollowland? Wasn’t he the first noble who tried to cut a deal to have his daughter married to Lord Miller?” Stella commented casually, adjusting the silverware.

Screech-!

“What?!” Francesca spun around in shock, the sharp, violent sound of her heavy wooden chair scraping against the floor reverberating throughout the quiet office.

Hollowland Viscounty, Lord’s Castle

“So, you worked inside the Ironwood Castle for more than two decades?” the older man asked. He had thinning, graying hair, a gleaming golden canine tooth, and an impossibly pompous expression plastered all over his face.

The man standing before him, sporting distinctive black hair and a meticulously groomed mustache, answered enthusiastically. “Yes, Lord Hollowland. I was a damn great butler, too! It just so happens that they are currently suffering from severe financial mismanagement, and were forced to lay off loyal, hardworking employees such as myself...”

Viscount Hollowland chuckled, tapping his thick fingers rhythmically against his heavy oak desk. “And what did you say your name was again?”

“Randell, My Lord.” He bowed deeply and respectfully.

Outside the heavy stone walls of the castle, the brutal Winter Freeze raged on without mercy. Thick, violent flurries of snow whipped against the glass panes, making the grand windows rattle and groan in their wooden frames. Inside the lavish office, a heavy, calculating silence fell between the two men. The atmosphere in the room shifted ominously as massive storm clouds rolled across the pale winter sun outside, plunging the opulent study into deep, gloomy shadows for several long moments, before the howling winds pushed the clouds apart and bathed the room once again in stark, freezing light.

Viscount Hollowland stopped tapping and stood up, pacing aggressively in front of his grand fireplace. “Very well, I will hire you. You claimed you possess insider information about what exactly transpired between Lord Ivan and Viscount Ironwood during his recent visit, correct?”

Randell nodded eagerly. “Of course, my Lord.”

“Good,” Viscount Hollowland sneered, the firelight catching the gold in his mouth. “My daughter was so humiliated by that rejection. A commoner mercenary, elevated by mere luck and the Emperor's fleeting whim, dares to reject the pristine bloodline of Hollowland? We controlled his grain imports, his gems, his steel! Yet he chose a Southern noble like Duke LeonCraft over us? He will soon see what a massive mistake he has made.”

Randell hid a sly, calculating smirk behind his polite, subservient facade. “He certainly will, My Lord... He certainly will.”

Internally, a joyous, greedy chorus was already singing in Randell's mind: I am going to make a fortune out of this bitter old idiot to fund and expand my Butler’s Guild!