Portrion was a fiefdom with a decent crop yield, all things considered.

Though the climate was not suitable for experimenting with various crops, there was a huge river that ran across the territory and reached the sea.

The river was mostly peaceful, but reportedly had caused problems a few times.

Edith recalled the memories and explained to Walter.

“Every 15 years in the summer of Portrion, there’s a downpour. It’s not just one or two days, so the facilities are well prepared for the rain, but I heard there was a problem about 30 years ago.”

“A problem?”

“Yeah. There’s a dam downstream of the river, and there was significant damage because it was not repaired in time.”

Although Edith wasn’t born at that time, she knew about it from hearing the head of the Homan clinic reminiscing about it on rainy days.

It wasn’t a joke when people injured by the flood came pouring in.

“In the end, the seawater flowed back, and I heard that not only the crops of that year but also the harvests for several years were not good.”

Walter was aware that many people in Portrion made a living through farming.

“If that much damage had been done, the person responsible for repairing the dam would have wanted to do even if he was a night watcher.”

“He got scolded more for not doing it. The responsibility for repairing the dam of the fiefdom lies with the Lord of Portrion.”

“Portrion has been doing various things for generations.”

“The problem back then was that the Lord’s executive in charge of practical affairs missed something in the procedure, and the repairs were done hastily.”

“Does the Lord pay for the repairs?”

“The Lord of Portrion saves a part of the taxes collected from the farmers every year to use for flood prevention.”

The farmers who had suffered damage at that time must have had a strong resentment against the Lord, who had gathered taxes under the pretext of repairing the riverbank and then made a mistake in practical affairs causing the flood.

At that thought, Walter seemed to understand why Edith had judged that she could help Helen and himself by using the downpour of Portrion.

“As it is known that the steward has been embezzling for a long time, even if you say that the money for repairing the riverbank is intact, the farmers will doubt it.”

“But Sofia and the steward… maybe they didn’t touch that money.”

Whether Sofia and the steward actually touched the money for riverbank repair was not important. As long as public opinion is created that the same damage as 30 years ago is feared.

Then the farmers, who would remember the past, would have great anxiety because of the embezzlement that happened in the Lord’s house.

‘There is no better way to stop Sofia, who is trying to swallow the whole Lord’s house.’

Sofia, who had no defense in Portrion, thought she would take on the role of the master of the fiefdom, who was in charge of practical administrative affairs.

But the story would be quite different if the fiefdom’s people did not trust her administration and there was a defense lineage.

“I must send a letter to Helen. Madam came up with a good idea.”

When Walter spoke, Edith’s face brightened for a moment.

“I’m glad it seems to help. I’m sorry I’ve only been borrowing your strength.”

Walter paused for a moment at her words.

Rummaging through his memory, he had hurried her to put forth protection a few times.

“I’ve asked Benjamin to look at the condition of the riverbank, so we should receive a reply soon. Benjamin has wide connections in Portrion, as it is his hometown.”

The result of that pressure was that the fourth lady was exchanging letters with another man, and somehow it hurt.

‘…I can’t pick up the words I’ve spit out.’

Walter looked at Edith and said,

“People who would immediately link the embezzlement in Portrion with the flood damage incident 30 years ago and use it are not common.”

He was not flattering her just to please her right now.

Among the people he met while confined in a narrow mansion, Edith was extraordinary enough to count on one hand.

Instead of hastily claiming to do something, her style of carefully verifying what she knew and using it at a critical moment was impressive.
I kept glancing at her, although I’m not quite sure if it was for the same reason.

“Thank you for saying that, Walter.”

Edith’s cheeks flushed with joy, thinking she had his approval.

Walter, unable to turn his eyes away, stared blankly at Edith’s happiness, thinking that he might make a big mistake.

“It’s time for you to go to sleep, my lady.”

Walter lightly climbed over the windowsill he had crossed before and headed outside. Instead of the chilly wind, he only felt the faint rose scent that Edith exuded.

“Goodnight, Walter.”

Edith reached out towards the window and waved slightly.

Walter, again staring blankly, impulsively took her hand, and pressed his lips to her soft palm.

And then lightly bit the tender flesh.

The palm she had given instead of her lips when he pretended to spend the night and deceived others.

“……!”