Chapter 158 Selection

After a quiet lunch Alicia had prepared for him in his study, Lucien looked through the chosen proposals once more while Elias set aside the ones they might implement in the future.

His fingers tapped the table lightly as he focused on one in particular. "A textile workshop of sorts, but with a focus on general items for now. It has potential to expand beyond that once the people working there gain enough skill."

Lucien's brow creased as he gestured to a particular part of the proposal. "Integrating an eastern style into the current clothes to be sold...this is the part I am concerned about, Elias. The woman who proposed this seemed quite passionate about it."

"I am not surprised, My Lord. Even in the capital, there is a...competition between the neatness of eastern-style clothing and the practical ruggedness we are more used to," the steward replied, looking at the part Lucien had pointed out.

"Such preferences tend to spread with merchants and travelers. If the woman understands what the refugees are accustomed to wearing, then there may be more demand for it than the proposal suggests."

"Would that sort of competition affect us if we accepted this, Elias?"

The steward considered his question for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. "I do not believe it should, My Lord. It was something I had been watching closely ever since we received news that the refugees would be from the eastern side of the frontier."

"So far, other than the small differences in clothing and their penchant for...cleanliness, I do not think we have cause for concern if we were to accept this."

When Elias still looked as though he had something to say, Lucien waved for him to go on.

"It is the ratio among those we accept that might be of concern, My Lord."

Lucien understood what the steward was implying a moment later.

Three of the accepted proposals were from the newer villagers...four if one were to count Garrick among them. The only one that would be chosen from the native population was the pottery yard, proposed by the farmer from the eastern fields.

It wasn't as though there weren't any proposals from the older villagers either. The young man who had pitched the idea of a carting service was just one of many. But like that idea, most of the proposals were either too far-fetched, or the village simply wasn't at the stage to implement them yet.

Lucien exhaled through his nose. "The pottery yard has the highest chance of profit...I suppose the villagers won't see it that way."

His steward's silence was all the answer he needed.

He leaned back in his chair, regarding the five proposals before he slowly spoke. "We can't make our choice just to take the ratio into account, Elias."

"But we can smooth things over after that. Follow up with the ones we rejected because the village isn't ready to implement them yet. Show them that we are serious about providing support by helping improve their ideas."

Lucien rubbed his chin. "The general household store and textile workshop would benefit the village as a whole...if we can reframe it that way, then the people shouldn't grumble as much until the next wave of initiatives comes through."

At least until the end of this year...if they could stave off complaints until then, Ashridge would be ready to start another round.

Elias folded his arms behind his back. "We could encourage their own efforts without monetary support as well, My Lord."

Lucien glanced toward the steward, brow raised. "What do you propose, Elias?"

The steward cleared his throat. "Take the carting service that was initially proposed. A smaller service using that family's own oxen could be tried first. And your name...perhaps even your presence, would aid in their endeavors."

"Merchants who arrive in Ashridge would be highly interested if you were to personally promote it, My Lord."

It was one of his blind spots ever since finding himself in this world. Even after months, he still wasn't quite used to having his mere presence be used the way Elias had suggested.

Lucien gave a slow nod. "The villagers not chosen at the start would also be soothed by that. We will have to pick which ones beforehand first...a name only has value if it isn't used lightly."

"Yes, My Lord. Should I collate the ones we rejected together with the notes? I have recorded your suggestions from earlier."

Lucien waved toward the second-largest pile. "Do so. And sort them by which ones we can start to implement earliest. Watch the villagers who were rejected and see which ones are truly serious about it as well."

"It wouldn't do to place House Varentis's name beside those who are simply looking to make a quick profit."

Once they had decided on the proposals, both the accepted ones and the others that would be watched, the meeting drifted toward other matters, such as the incoming visit by Lord Vaelric and his mother.

Perhaps it was Lord Rathenfell's consideration, but it seemed the older noble had deigned to give some time between his arrival and Lord Vaelric's.

Either that, or it was simply because Lord Rathenfell's old friend hadn't arrived in Helvarn yet. The man had deliberately left out details about that, likely to surprise him with whoever he brought later.

Speaking of surprises...

Elias had been just about to leave with the stack of proposals to be announced tomorrow when Lucien coughed lightly, causing the steward to turn around.

"Is there anything else, My Lord?"

Lucien kept his expression carefully neutral. "Kyrïe...an elf staying in the manor. Would that pose a problem among them, Elias? I doubt Lord Vaelric would mind, considering he spent most of his life in the frontier."

The steward shook his head. "A single elf shouldn't pose a problem, My Lord. One whose entire Grove has been lost would be even less of a concern."

He resisted the urge to frown at the clinical tone Elias had used, as though he were describing the weather rather than the loss of an entire community.

So far, the steward hadn't shown any outward hostility toward Kyrïe, but it was clear to him that there was little love lost when it came to their resident elf.

In the first few weeks after Kyrïe had woken up, he had left it up to Talia to broach the subject of the state of her home and whether it would be possible for her to return.

From the dark look on the elf's face, and the fact that she hadn't attempted to ask him for help...it was obvious what had happened to her home when she had been taken captive by the Broken Tusk.

"But the capital would not welcome an elf's presence, My Lord," the steward added, watching Lucien's reaction carefully.

Lucien's brow lifted as he regarded the steward. "That much is expected, Elias."

Elias watched him for a brief moment before finally dipping his head. "By your leave, My Lord?"

At his wave, the steward turned once more, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click.

Lucien continued to stare at the closed door, wondering about the last words Elias had spoken. It was rare for the elderly steward to say something without prompting like that.

Then he looked back down at the latest reports, a breath leaving him as he realized belatedly that the day wasn't quite over yet.

The sun was already beginning its descent by the time Lucien heard a soft knock at his door.

"Enter."

He looked up to see Alicia, and his entire attention fixed on the blessed drink placed on the tray she was holding.

A small smile formed on the maid's lips as she set the tray on the desk and placed the cup before him. "My Lord. It's nearly time for dinner, but I thought you might want some after the busy day you have had."

Lucien gave a nod of thanks as he took a slow sip, his eyes sliding shut.

They snapped open at the soft gasp from the maid, who shook her head quickly.

"Ah, apologies, My Lord. It's just..." Her words trailed off, eyes flicking to the stack of rejected proposals.

He followed the direction of her gaze before taking the paper Alicia had been looking at.

"What about this, Alicia? Is there something off about it?"

The maid glanced down at the parchment. "No, My Lord. But this...it was proposed by a young farmer, yes?"

At his nod, Alicia's hand moved to trace the letters, a soft smile on her face. "I see...so he decided to do something different after all."

Lucien wondered whether it would be wise to reveal that this was the rejected pile, but it seemed Alicia noticed his hesitant reaction as she shook her head.

"Ah, I know this was rejected, My Lord. I was helping Master Elias earlier along with the scribes."

She retracted her hand, placing it on her chest. "But his wife would still be happy he is at least making the effort."

Slowly, Lucien inclined his head. "I assume you know him then? Come to think of it...he was only a little older than you."

"I was closer to his wife than anything else, My Lord. Most of the boys in the village kept away from me because of the...interest of the former lord."

Lucien let out a breath, remembering Harlon had once mentioned something about that, in what felt like a lifetime ago during their first visit to the carpenter.

The maid lightly clapped her hands in a manner that reminded him strangely of Talia. "I am sure she's pleased to see him making an effort. It was something she had been concerned about before marrying him."

Then, to his surprise, she met his eyes and dipped her head. "It's thanks to you, My Lord."

Alicia covered her mouth at his reaction, though he could still see the slight curve at the corner. "Our village has never known anything other than farming to make a living, My Lord. Perhaps my friend's husband never liked farming in the first place."

"Even if he failed now, I believe he will be likely to try again now that there is a different path for him."

Giving a faint nod, Lucien took a sip from his cup. "I believe he will, Alicia."

Clearly deliberate stumbling steps sounded beyond the door, causing both of them to look over, a trace of fond exasperation already on the maid's expression.

It swung open, Talia stepping through with her arms lifted toward them. "Alicia...is dinner ready yet!?"

Alicia shook her head firmly. "Sera isn't back yet, Lady Talia. And you should've had more than enough to tide you over."

She placed her hands on her hips. "Just because Lord Lucien was busy and unable to join us doesn't mean you should have tried to take his portion of the food."

Talia slumped over as the maid gently lectured her, only to perk up soon after.

She gripped Alicia's hands in both of hers. "Putting that aside! Alicia, are you free tomorrow?"

Lucien's eyes narrowed at the obvious attempt to change the subject. Talia pointedly ignored his look as the maid tilted her head at the sudden question.

"Kyrïe is watching Cora tomorrow, so I am free...but what is it?"

Talia grinned and shook her hand slightly. "I or rather, Lord Lucien and I need your help with something! Do you mind using your blessing to see what the problem might be?"

Alicia turned to him, and he gave a nod before adding.

"The choice of whether to help or not is yours. It's not exactly an urgent problem, but much like the scorpion, there seems to be something wrong with Talia's attempts to bake the coal so far."

He gestured to Talia, who had released her hands and was rubbing her temple tiredly.

"Talia and Joren can solve the problem, given enough time. But we can test the limits of your blessing without risk of straining it if you see something complete."

Alicia straightened, her hands folded before her. "I can help, My Lord. Translating Kyrïe's words didn't really cause as much strain so far."

She turned to Talia next, her expression settling into something carefully neutral. "Will Master Joren be there tomorrow, Lady Talia?"

There was nothing improper in her tone, though something about it made Lucien glance at her.

Talia shuffled a small step backward. "Uh...yes? We've been working on this together since Lord Vaelric sent a small crate of coal over."

"I see. Then I will make preparations for tomorrow."

Perhaps he was mistaken about his earlier assessment that the maid had forgiven Joren.