When Libitina disembarked from the carriage, Sydney had already left for his cafes. Her boot touched the brown soil. The earthy aroma of fields filled her nose and she blocked out the sun shining at her eyes.
Across her eyes, were golden fields spanning hundreds of meters, swaying gently in the wind and orange sun.
"So this is the Northern Merveille fief."
Ellie and Peter walked over to her after disembarking from their carriage.
"I want to walk around the fields first. Peter, follow me. Sabrina and Ellie, please head over to the living quarters first."
"Yes, My Lady."
Libitina walked as she enjoyed the fresh air. She waved her hand languidly in the air. Unknown to her following guard, she could sense and see the little green lights dancing around her hand gaily.
'Willow, the land seems healthy.'
'Yes, Master, such fertility!' a little voice spoke in her mind. She could feel the happiness of the little spirit wombat as it enjoyed the caress of the land's spirits through her body. In her mindspace, the wombat somersaulted and wriggled its butt happily as it enjoyed the spirits entering her body. The earth was thriving, and her heart beat along with its rhythm.
Libitina never told anyone, but with the power of the wind from Tudor and the power of earth from Willow, she was able to sense the spiritual energy of the living organisms in the air and the ground.
When Libitina first took over Marquis Gregory Merveille in managing the fiefs, she had studied the soil structures and agricultural variety produced by each field and made suggestions on the types of crops to be planted. Tudor's powers were not just wind-related, but also spirit-related; he gave her eyes that could see the inner components of soil and therefore identify the crops most suitable for it. Naturally, Willow's power further compounded her sensitivity to the spiritual elements. However, since she was Persephone, surely, she could be allowed to claim credit to these land initiatives? A villain must not be too useless, after all. Her opponents were crazy supermen with god-class powers, seriously.
Knowledge and wisdom about the environment and agriculture therefore seems to come almost instinctively and intuitively to her, impressing Gregory, Alisa and anyone who worked with her in Zephyr. The Merveille agricultural industry under Zephyr Corporation now produced soybeans, corn, radishes, sugarcane, and other greens. The Northern fief focused on corn, a versatile plant that produced both fuel, feed and food. Libitina's involvement increased the variety and yield of the fields for the other three fiefs, but not the northern fief – what was going on?
Being the marvel in the family seemed to be lacking in enforcing order in the fiefs and enterprises.
Perhaps for someone to embezzle from this lucrative fief was not unexpected. Perhaps they saw her as a weak, young female lacking in experience, and therefore the perfect sheep for pulling the wool over the eyes when she started taking charge.
It was a good time to cull the chicken to warn the monkeys. No one was going to steal what belonged to her.
She smiled gently at Peter before strolling into the sunset, seemingly without a care.
…
Din Mallory belonged to the branch family of a Viscount House. He was always hungry when he was young. Impoverishment caused violence and hunger in the family, and his father was too prideful in being related to a noble family that he never sought help or went to work a job. Din Mallory thought that his father was foolish until the day he died.
"What can a Name do? Put food on the table?" He spat at it. "Money will never betray you, unlike family."
So, for his whole life, he always sought for wealth, and one day, someone from the Aristocrats Party visited his home.
"We would like you to do something for us, and in return, we will help you buy a noble rank for you to enter the upper classes."
Din Mallory had refused. "I would rather you give me money."
The officer had looked at him and agreed to compromise.
So for fifteen years, he had worked his ass up the ranks of the Merveille's agricultural centre as a nobody. He was lucky that the Merveille head was a softy. He pretended he was poor and had nowhere to go, and the visiting Marquis had lent a hand to give him shelter.