Thirty days later.
Plantation of organic crops stretched wide across a territory that was filled with warm air of the atmosphere, divided on every region of an archipelago. Fields of barley planted on the farm were baked under the flickering of the sun.
Part of the culture of this land was agronomy and farming. It was not only their livelihood, but this kind of daily living traced its history back to the first ancestor of people of this sector whom has first reigned, preceding her descendants whom still carried the dominance of her blood and that even half part of the region were also her descendants.
Far across each isle lied ranches that occupied ninety-percent of the backyards and front yards of each residential homes, up to the northern region of the island of what resided were high-ranking officials of the small state, of which stood there were the ancient-style manors made of first-rate wood planks cut from trees of different kinds.
Few groups of cows dined on emerald spring grasses on an expansive farm surrounded by Hawthorne trees to the back closest to the sides of a tall-heighted, humble home built of wooden planks, and protected in cedar fences. The fewest of farmers were also present, winnowing some harvests.
More horse-riding Aechlerenne men made headway into the farmlands. They encountered countless industrious farmers: some were watering the plants, concurrently when others were also harvesting crops.
Leading this horde of arriving gardeners was one of Srey's loyalists, Kervumasa. He had been among the late leader's government figures, and up to the present day, he is still an active member of the new administration. He came with a smile that fitted the warmth of the day. His horse came to a halt, and he stepped down from it and advanced toward the other farmers.
When he padded towards random farmers near the rightmost fenced corner, they all paused and dipped their heads respectfully upon catching his warmhearted smile. "Kervumasa," some of them greeted.
Kervumasa had a look-around at the beautiful garden, his hands laid positively on his waist. "It has been two moons of Yihn's leadership." The crops were heaven to him, shining gold in his sight under the reflective under the sun's rays. The lengths of the grasses outside the plantation got themselves making a gentle swoosh in the presence of the pleasant wind. Equaling the season of spring. "Yes, she proved herself true to her words. There were no reports of food shrinkage in the past ninety days. Our crops have been enough for thirteen consecutive weeks."
"That is just the beginning," a low, familiar woman's voice challenged from behind.
Kervumasa's shoulders stiffened. He was expecting responses from the farmers nearby, not the latter's. He turned to his back to his left and saw this senior lady, sitting on a stump of tree. She was among those who made negative comments to the opinion of Kervumasa himself and his wife's on life after Srey's control at the time of his burial.
"Aung-Min," Kervumasa bowed to his older fellow countrywoman, curious to see her glaring blankly at the distance. "Was it something I said?" he asked, sounded to be ready for an apology to make.
"I will take Lord Srey's word of nationalism," her tone grumpier. No one was already hearing her out but Kervumasa. He canted his head and raised an eyebrow, his hands still on his waist, wondering what it was supposed to be, as Aug-Min continued, "Soon, there will be no use expecting Aechlerenne loyalty, as it will go nowhere when generations of divided loyalties populate this House. A seed of two bloods has been spawned already!"
Kervumasa could not resist frowning to the rising tone of Aug-Min. She sounded like she was up to stand against the new administration of the House.
"Aechleranne will miss Lord Srey's golden premiership–his rule that changed everything. But one thing: I do not think I will ever forgive his decision for choosing his noble inheritor," her grave-toned explanation turned into a cold sneer. "That is the biggest mistake he has ever done."
Kervumasa scowled angrier at her. He confronted Aug-Min in the noise of every farmer's footsteps and gardening tools in use that gave the two of them privacy. "Are you talking about Yihn?" he grilled.
Aung-Min said nothing. Yet, it was obvious that she was not really commending to Yihn's ascendancy.
"With respect, Aug-Min, you are wrong." he hurled. "Lord Srey knew each one of his stalwarts. He would not have chosen Lady Yihn if she had not bear out her brilliance and courage in the battlefield."
"Prove it, boy. How well do you know my family?" Aung-Min rounded on him. "My husband and I sent her away for good, thinking that would teach her a lesson! We realized how wrong we were that it was not enough. How much more now that she is in charge of the entire House?"
There was a story behind this hatred Aung-Min was showing Yihn for sure, and Kervumasa did not know the roots of this dislike she had for her as the woman chose not to talk about it in public. Of course, Kervumasa was a true patriot. He has proven this character to Srey, and he will prove it again to his new leader.
"And you still think her governance is a disgrace to your family?" he interrogated. "Shouldn't you be proud?"
"Is that a question, boy? You need not to guess." Aung-Min narrowed her eyes with a look of cold contempt. "You can take Yihn's side, anytime. For the last time, she will have my permission to choose her new allies. Because I could not see ourselves having our fight reconciled ever again." She walked past Kervumasa in a rude manner, keeping the smirk still on her face.
What kind of mother would do such a thing? Kervumasa thought while he scowled at her for a moment. "Show some respect for a mandarin!" he whooped. "Do not make me convince the Baroness to force you out of Aechleranne!" Much as he wanted to respect Aung-Min for being the mother of his new leader, he could not help but raise his voice against her. He would not let anyone, not even Yihn's family members, devalue the Baroness.
"I do not need your help to bother your precious Baroness for me. I can migrate anytime I want without taking orders." she rasped one more time before leaving immediately.
A topless sweating farmer, carrying thick strands of his harvests, came across Kervumasa just as Aung-Min made herself scarce. He has surely heard of their conversation that heated up inside the plantation. The shaved-headed farmland worker glimpsed at the fleeing woman, and spent a few seconds wondering what their fight was all about. Shortly, he turned his gaze from Aung-Min to Kervumasa.
"Dimouru," Kervumasa called upon catching his eyes.
"What happened there?" his brief look turned into a prolonged stare.
Kervumasa's anger was pure in the look he threw at Aung-Min. He was always ready to defend Yihn against her birth mother's opposing words. "You will not believe it," straitening his eyes at the woman, "On the contrary, I cannot see myself treating my son that way."
"What was it about, your Excellency?"
"She strongly opposes the Baroness," Kervumasa's steady scowl pointed Aung-Min's direction out to the farmer. "Lady Yihn will never be safe from her words."
"But what will you tell Lady Yihn now?" Dimouru protested. "I do not think we can make her send her own mother into exile. They still have the same blood."
Kervumasa started to worry about his leader. This stressed him that he scratched his forehead. Yihn may be having absolute authority over Aechleranne, but her mother was still around, and Aung-Min herself, as the Baroness' parent, have full confidence to expose what was the background of their familial conflict. She can speak up with regards to this whenever she wanted once she has had enough. Inside their family, Aung-Min could still equal Yihn's power in terms of truth and honesty, apart from being House Baroness.
"Which is why I am trying hard to keep my mouth shut," Kervumasa sounded like he was containing his loud yawn. "I suggest I should send some of Yihn's guards to watch over Aung-Min."
"Do you think she will allow you to do that?" Dimouru asked. "Pardon me, but I beg to differ. You are trailing our leader's family."
"Leave it to us government officials," Kervumasa assured. "Yihn has decided to cut the blood ties between them and herself. They are not a family anymore."
Dimouru was getting confused of the situation going on between Yihn and her family. Without any intent to make offense, his puzzlement drove him to ask Srey and Yihn's fanatic servant, "Has our Baroness got a secret?"
Kervumasa raised an eyebrow dangerously at Dimouru, with a mixture of a look of uncertainty. "I have never known Lady Yihn to keep a secret. We are good friends for decades. If she does, Lord Srey would have told the House long ago."
"A little advice, sir: Aung-Min might spread rumors to Yihn's siblings," he warned. "You know their truthful connection with the current Baroness empowers them with an opportunity to find a way to falsify her image–whatever it is."
Kervumasa thought about it. He looked at the ground for temporary, thinking for responses. At first, Dimouru has mistaken of thinking that Kervumasa has pinned his attention to what he has been warned. Thinking that it ended their chat, Dimouru started walking out to resume his gardening duties.
Kervumasa alertly raised his head back in front as he felt Dimouru on his way. "Wait!" he panted. "Perhaps you know something. I will need your help."
Dimouru kept his voice low that only Kervumasa could hear it. "Sir," he muttered into his ear, "I am sanctioned to prosecute my role on ranches, that is all. I must have Lady Yihn's consent before I accept your request."
Kervumasa cudgeled his brains. Scratching his head and trying to think things over as fast as he could, knowing that Dimouru had a lot to take care of–that he should not also be wasting an hour by abandoning his duties in the pastoral area for its wellness counted on the number of performing farmers.
"Do not tell Lady Yihn!" he prodded.
"Sir, I want to keep the Baroness safe as you do, but there is no way we can escape from her watchful eyes," Dimouru's voice softened into a whisper. "If Aung-Min comes to shame Lady Yihn in a possible public confrontation, her zealous guards will get the blame for letting that happen. You know what I mean."
"Look, I know you are a bit occupied right now. Just for once, Dimouru," Kervumasa begged. Afraid that Dimouru would helplessly reject the job, he shot an entreating look at the latter and reasoned, "I apologize for giving you tasks as big as ours, I am just setting things up to fortify our leader. I really do not feel good about the Baroness. Her mother and other siblings likely feel empowered to challenge Lady Yihn."
In Dimouru's portentous expression, he facially admitted that he could not resist not declining to the loyal servant's aims. He may be only a field worker, but his faith to Yihn matches Kervumasa and the rest of the government officials', somehow.
Kervumasa moved even closer to Dimouru's face. Back bent, and standing nose-to-nose now with Dimouru as his voice moderated, "Keep this between the two of us. Tell no one. Not even your closest friends. It is hard to tell whom we can trust now."
Dimouru perspired, his limbs trembled and felt a ticklish sting of fear stabbing his waist and unfed tummy. His tremor affected the stillness of his harvests around his arms, but was strong enough not to have dropped it.
His doubting willingness was strengthened by Kervumasa's vital words of encouragement. "Trust your heart, Dimouru. You will know what you will be doing is right," Kervumasa had one more look around his surroundings to certify their privacy, then that was when he touched Dimouru's left shoulder for the nonce and whispered, "Beware the quiet slumber of deception."
Dimouru sensed himself bounded in a situation lack of choice. He did not want to feel convinced, but could not help jogging his mind that it was a "must-do" option. A nanosecond later, Dimouru still made a confirmative answer of his, though rather out of his heart and will.
"I will do it," Dimouru answered in resignation to his superior's perseverance.
"Thank you," appeasement swamped the twitchiness clogged in Kervumasa's throat down to his lungs.
Kervumasa avoided everyone's looks, as he thought they were all throwing observant stares at him, he jumped back to his saddled horse ride and made haste to exit the plantation.
Dimouru's body steadied relaxed in his remaining few seconds to gaze the withdrawing person. His disquietude winded down in a single emission of stressed air out of him, and then he muttered to himself as he got going: "The Baroness might wonder what brought her inferiors working on politics." he had this limping look on the way he lowered his eyelids