"Sell that land to me then, cousin."
Duke Reyan leaned forward in his chair, and entwined his fingers together on the desk. He watched the man who sat on the sofa.
Wrinkles appeared on his forehead before he put his teacup down on the saucer. He sighed, and ran a hand through his short brown hair, exposing their grey roots. He turned towards the man behind the desk.
"Reyan, you know that I won't sell that land."
"I know, Delan."
He propped his elbows up on the desk, and rested his chin on the back of his hands.
"But you have no other choice, you see. It's the order of the emperor himself to dig canals across that land."
Marquis's face turned red with fury, and he sprang up from the sofa.
"Reyan! It was all because of you!"
He cried, a finger pointed at his cousin. Those black orbs turned darker by the anger that they held.
"The draught? Really? You just had to go, and find about it right when my wine business was flourishing! I smell a pathetic scheme here, cousin!"
"A scheme, you say?"
Reyan smirked, and Delan's eyebrow twitched.
"You couldn't be more wrong, Delan. Instead, you should be grateful to my lovely daughter for predicting the draught. Besides, where will you even sell that expensive wine of yours if people can't find bread to feed their families?"
Delan found himself speechless.
"New canals will be dug to extend the irrigation system. We have to increase the crop yield this summer before the winter arrives."
Reyan leaned back in his chair.
"It's an excellent plan if you ask me, but your fields of grapevines are in the way, Delan."
He tilted his head to the side, the golden yellow light from the lamp on his desk illuminated his features, and made his clear grey eyes glow, much like the moon outside the window that was left open behind his chair.
A cold and powerful gaze that was.
"Now, Delan. I'll say this one last time. Sell that land to me. I'll pay you very well."
Delan clenched his fist, the vein on his temple bulging under his skin.
"Tsk! You are a dangerous man."
He said, gritting his teeth.
"It's no longer a matter of choice, is it? Damn it!"
He kicked the leg of the table. The teacup rattled, and fell off the saucer, spilling the tea all over the white tablecloth.
He stomped out of the study, and slammed the door shut behind his back. Reyan looked up at the ceiling, and rubbed the wrinkles on his forehead.
"Always a handful."
There was a knock, and the door creaked open a little. Zoey stepped inside, and smiled when her eyes met her father's.
"Papa. Am I disturbing you?"
Duke shook his head, and smiled as he felt his worries fade away.
"Not at all, dear."
Zoey closed the door behind her. She pouted upon seeing the mess that had been made on the table.
"I see that uncle Delan has thrown a tantrum in here. Should I call someone to clean the table, papa?"
Reyan got up from the chair, and reached her side.
"You should take a seat. I'll go get a maid."
Zoey nodded.
"And here."
The duke pulled out his handkerchief, and extended it to her. She looked up at him.
"Huh?"
"You have some pudding left on the corner of your mouth."
A blush crept on to Zoey's cheeks and she quickly grabbed the handkerchief. The duke laughed out loud at the flustered look on her face.
"Don't laugh, papa!"
She pouted, and he playfully rustled her hair.
"Alright, alright. I won't laugh anymore."
He bent over, and put an arm under her thighs to lift her up from the floor.
"Are you going to buy the uncle's land?"
She asked as he sat her down on the sofa. He knelt down in front of her, a smirk on his face.
"Zoey, I'm curious. How had that question came up in your mind?"
He gently poked her forehead.
"I don't remember telling you anything about that bargain."
She tapped her chin.
"Hmm... Uncle Delan looked furious on his way out, and he had given me a pretty nasty glare when I greeted him in the hallway."
Reyan's eyebrow twitched.
"Is that so?"
"Then, I thought of what I could have possibly done to make him mad at me."
She pouted.
"The draught. That must be it. I couldn't find any other reason, papa."
Reyan grinned, and placed a hand on her knee.
"And?"
"And one of the solutions that I had come up with for the draught was to extend the irrigation system towards the Southeast, and there is a high probability that the ministers have also come with that solution."
Reyan's eyes widened a little.
'She had already found the solution?'
"The empire will have to buy several acres of land for that. It's a good plan."
She crossed her arms.
"But Uncle Delan's wine business is at its prime these days."
"So you thought that the reason he was angry was because he had to sell his fields of grapevines, and the buyer had to be someone wealthier and more influential than the Marquis himself."
"Yes! Yes! That leaves only one person! You, papa!"
She clapped her hands, and Reyan shook his head, finding himself utterly speechless.
"So?"
"So, what?"
"Are you going to buy his land, papa?"
"Do I even need to tell you that when you have already deduced my answer?"
"No. Hehe!"
She chuckled, and he lifted his hand to rub her head.
"You should wait here. I'll go get someone to clean the table."
She nodded, and he got up from the floor before going out of the room. Zoey pulled her legs up on the sofa, and crossed them. Her night gown fell over her knees, and the edge of the sofa, slightly brushing the floor. It completely hid her small frame.
A gentle breeze welcomed itself inside through the open window, and made her hair flutter. She tucked the stray strands behind her ears, and looked up at the wall across from her.
It had a large map of the continent pinned to it, and above it was the flag of Haeyet dukedom. A green piece of exotic fabric hanging down from the wall with the family's crest embroidered on it by gold and silver threads.
It was a black wolf howling at the full moon. The identity of Haeyet family.
Zoey recalled the winter evening in the manor's living room when she had asked her father what that crest meant.
"It means family, my child."
She had looked up at him, the warmth from the cup of milk clasped in her hands making the cold of the winter reluctantly flee.
"Family?"
Her father had taken off his wool cloak, and handed it to the awaiting butler behind him before coming to sit beside her on the carpet in front of the large fireplace.
"Yes, family."
He had crossed his legs.
"Wolves live in packs, Zoey. Their packs are their families, and every wolf lives and dies for its family."
"Live and die..."
Zoey had muttered those words, looking ahead at the flames that had tirelessly danced over the burning woods.
Her father had gently placed his big and rough hand on her small head. She had turned towards him, those flickering flames reflecting in her young green eyes.
"Zoey, remember. A Haeyet never betrays his people. Never."
He had pointed above the fireplace, at the flag that hung down from the wall. "He cherishes them. Like a wolf worshipping its full moon."
The click of the door's knob pulled her out of her memories. Her father stepped inside, and following him was a maid.
She bowed her head to her before coming closer to clean the table.
"So, what has brought you here this late at night, dear?"
Reyan said, coming to stand behind the sofa. Zoey turned around in her seat, and grabbed the back of the sofa with one hand. She looked up at her father.
"I have a request to make, papa."
"What? A request? You know that you just need to say the word, dear."
She shook her head.
"No, this matter is not something that I can just wish for."
Reyan furrowed his eyebrows.
"It isn't about you, is it?"
"No. It's for sister Aria."