In Emberforge, the capital city of Frostholme, Mike walked arrogantly with his head held high. He did not meet the eyes of the servants or reply to their bowed heads. They were far beneath him. He was stronger, more powerful, and now, he was the lord of this territory.
After resting for three days under the pressure of Diana, he had finally gotten the chance to visit his lands. He had been restless when Lia left alone, but now that he thought about it, it was better! That woman always outshone him. No matter where they went, if he was there, everyone only paid attention to her, and he easily faded into the background.
But this time, he was going to show the world that he was much better, and he did not need his wife to navigate his territory. A man came running from the opposite side and bowed his head, introducing himself as Noah, Mike's assigned aide. Mike paused and stared at the older man. He looked to be in his fifties, but his lean body was still fit, and despite the seriousness in his eyes and the crow's feet, he exuded wisdom. However, that was not enough to be his aide.
"Are you a native of this land?" asked Mike, noting the pale skin of the northerner, while he himself had an olive complexion with southern features.
"Yes, my lord. I was born and brought up here. My family has served as aides to the counts for generations. I was assisting Sir Damien until now. But Madam Welenshire has commanded me to follow you," replied Noah with a soft and respectful voice, though Mike felt a sting like a tight slap on his cheek. He laughed coldly and continued walking. Another leftover! Had he only gotten what Damien didn't want throughout his life? No, he was going to rid himself of that man and prove that Damien didn't deserve the county. Perhaps Damien could have it when Mike was announced as Marquess.
The man followed silently until they reached the manor. While the manor was large and decently decorated, it paled in comparison to the marquess's palace. Mike stared at the decorative statues, ornaments, tapestries, and walls with distaste as he walked in. Six more servants bowed their heads when he entered the hall.
"My lord," their voices echoed, and Mike nodded in acknowledgment. But as soon as they raised their heads, their eyes darted behind him. It was as if they expected Lia to materialize out of thin air, gracing them with her smile. The disappointment on their faces was so apparent that Mike's chest tightened. He was determined to teach them all a lesson.
"Where is my office?" he inquired, addressing no one in particular. Noah stepped forward and guided him to the left side. Mike held the banister of the stairs and felt the red velvet beneath his feet. It lacked quality. He had assumed that the palace designed for Damien would be better.
They turned left on the first floor, and Noah opened the door for Mike. He held the door and bowed when Mike entered. The room was simple as if it belonged to a commoner. A large chair with a substantial table sat near the windows, accompanied by four chairs on the opposite side. A small sofa and coffee table were on the right, while bookshelves lined the left wall. That was all. No decorative statues or jewels were adorning the walls, just simple wooden furniture.
Mike's expression darkened as he entered. Concealing his displeasure, he sat down on the chair and looked at the dozen files covering the table. Noah followed and pointed to each file in front of him.
"These are the annual reports of your territories, my lord. The count had lands in Eldoria and a part of Celestis. We engage in agriculture, and farming, and have large barns. Our annual income rivals that of any marquess except our overlords'. They've nurtured this land well. Lord George spared no effort in—"
"That's enough," Mike interrupted, his displeasure evident in his voice. For some reason, their new master was irritable, and his anger seemed to grow with time.
"I apologize. Would you need some guidance or any information about the files?" Noah asked, taking a step back and speaking politely. It might be because the lady had left alone, Noah deduced, and he kept his mouth shut.
"I'll call you if I need your help," Mike said, pausing before adding, "The journey here was long. Could you ask the maids to bring some tea?" Noah nodded in understanding and left the room with measured steps. Mike's frown deepened, and he gritted his teeth. It was challenging to restrain himself when he could see nothing but wariness on their faces.
"Tsk! They all believe I don't deserve this. Lord George and Damien were much better than me. But I'll show them that they're fortunate to have me here," he muttered. He sifted through the files and read their titles.
"The Annual Budget of Celestis and Eldoria," he read the title with gleaming eyes and picked up the file. Flipping through the pages, his gaze fixated on the series of zeroes after the gold coin numbers.
"Ten thousand gold coins for the poor to sustain their businesses. If it's their business, shouldn't they be paying for it? Instead, the county pays them to run their businesses. Ridiculous," his lips twisted with anger and frustration. They had spent such a considerable amount on the poor. That was the only reason they regarded George as their god. But Mike didn't want to be a god to them; he wanted to live in luxury like one. His eyes gleamed with the thought.
"Forget about those elders; they're going to die soon anyway. I'm going to make an impression with all these gold coins," he mused to himself.