"Obediently walk by my side and don't point at people, no matter what you see, alright?"
Kevin leaned down a bit and whispered to Lexia the moment he felt her hand squeeze tightly onto his. It could be said that as a border town, the war didn't treat the pedestrians kindly.
The claws of this sordid were stretched deeply beyond the borders—many of the male population young and old were conscripted into the battlefield, never to make it back just because they were caught in a web of schemes targeting a kind, yet stupid if I must say, of a baron.
"Got it!" Lexia nodded her head repeatedly, a glimmer of confusion in her eyes.
The next moment, however, Lexia pointed in the direction of rhythmic footfalls and a cloud of dusty snow down the street with a gasp. "Horses!" she cried out in pleasant surprise.
Kevin facepalmed, exasperatingly running his digits through his curly black hair with a sigh. Seemingly aware of her naïve mistake, Lexia stuck out her tongue shyly and buried her head into Kevin's torso, clinging to him while attempting to budge his body; all in vain.
"You're alive!" A procession of black war horses slowly came to a halt in front of Kevin, the leading horse face to face with him—almost bumping foreheads as it snorted a heavy, thick breath from its nostrils.
Kevin looked deeply into the pair of obsidian eyes as though he hadn't heard the sharp voice of the female knight from high above, his stern gaze eventually coercing the war horse into lowering its head—inadvertently having the woman lean forward with her shadow overcasting Kevin.
"What can I say? Gods want me to live; so here I am." Kevin chuckled lightly, his eyes sweeping across the houses that had their windows shut tightly presumably to ward off the cold.
The woman raised her fine, black eyebrows.
"I came here with a proposition," she said with a smile before asking, "should I say second young master or young lord?"
"Is that so?" Kevin responded faintly, glancing up at this woman with long black hair. "What kind of a proposition would the daughter of the esteemed viscount have with a lowly baron such as myself?"
Kevin simply implied that he was no longer a second young master nor a young lord; he was taking the reins as a baron.
Then again, this kind of a thing didn't require the intervention or recognition of anyone in the higher chain of command—the noble title and land would always be hereditary unless the family committed treason to the crown.
In this era of turmoil and unrest and with the lack of a male heir to the empire, it is but a game of blood between kings as to who will marry the sole princess of the dynasty, blending into the imperial lineage.
Still, Kevin didn't believe it was so easy to toy with the feelings of a woman raised in a seat of power and the center of a political storm. They might think that they're scheming about like smart fellows, but who's to say that the princess wasn't the one in control?
Kevin wasn't an alien to simps and how manipulative women can be; he inferred that much from his supposed death.
These things were very distant from the current Kevin—all he needed was to keep his loyalty under the eyes of the kingdom.
Not even a count or a duke could strip him from his title as a baron at this point—it was a rather sarcastic—borderline stupid question to lay in the open it Kevin had to say.
The knights of lower rank next to the woman ignored the brief quibble of words between the baron and the daughter of a viscount as their status couldn't afford to interfere; they had better play the deaf and mute at this moment.
"The upcoming war will be the decisive one. Hence, Marquis Luise will be dispatched together with Maruis Armstrong and his wife to oversee the northern borders," this was a piece of common knowledge that would proliferate the realm very quickly so she didn't mind speaking in public.
However, this was merely a prelude to the real conversation between herself and Kevin—might as well call it an incentive.
She continued, "Your barony is short on manpower for both combat and logistics, but you have something valuable for the army—"
"My coal mines," interjected Kevin while touching his chin, "if the great army is about to migrate north and set up barracks for a decisive war, the logistics aren't only short of manpower but resources as well, including but not limited to my coal mines.
"That is to say, the marquis will definitely approach the lords responsible for the coal mines just as he would approach other families for rations and manpower—a great chance to build connections with a noble family further inland…"
Kevin seemingly muttered to himself, but the woman was already shocked. The intelligence mentioned that the progeny of the late baron wasn't very bright, what was this?
Kevin on the other hand seemed to understand many things.
However, since he understood the value of the coal mine now, he wasn't stupid. He had no rights to negotiate terms with the family of a count, let alone a marquis who was one rank below the duke.
He somewhat understood the political situation of the dynasty from the head steward who was a shrewd man, but his goal wasn't to strike connections but to survive this winter and the war right on its heels.
"Were you truly brought back by the grace of a god?"
Asked the woman, eyeing this sixteen-year-old youth who didn't seem much in her eyes before. In her eyes, he was a child who lost all support and would be very willing to hug the thighs of a noble with power as long as he could lay back and enjoy life.
She didn't expect the kid to take a seat on the political table with the ambitious lords. In these desperate territories of the kingdom, the past wars were nothing but child's play as the heat and intensity were focused elsewhere.
Things were different now, for reasons unnecessary to mention.
Just like how a commoner would only worry about work in the morning and dinner at night—they wouldn't bother thinking where the food came from or whether or not their place of work was doing good or bad.
Take things as they come and don't bother with things out of your reach, influence, and control.
"Is that your little sister?"
The woman leaned sideways on her horse, glimpsing at the little girl who stood behind Kevin, tugging on his coat.
"Yeah," Kevin responded nonchalantly while he picked up Lexia on his way back towards the castle. "Let's go and talk inside for now."
Lexia was surprised but also delighted, hugging Kevin's neck and cooing away into his chest. As for Kevin, he was secretly investigating Lexia's physique while contemplating how he should train her in combat.
This is a merciless age of opportunities and conflicts, and he didn't believe himself omniscient and omnipresent. Since the head steward hinted at Lexia, and that old man was quite the shrewd nut to crack, the best measure of precaution was to directly and secretly groom Lexia into a capable fighter.
The woman grunted a response as she watched Kevin walking away unhurriedly, even jumping off her high horse and entrusting it to one of her subordinates while she led two knights along into the territory of the Rögger family.