TMLAM 10

Chapter 10

Roella returned with an entirely rewritten set of documents in less than two hours.

“…At this point, I’m almost getting used to being surprised.”

What had originally been a fairly thick stack of papers had been cleanly condensed into a report of just three pages, with every error clearly identified.

“Jaiman isn’t incompetent,” Aidan remarked, “but Lady Roella is far superior.”

It was a case of Jaiman being good—but Roella being on another level entirely. Not only had she precisely identified the miscalculations, but there were also memo notes attached.

Christan read Roella’s neat handwriting.

[How about refining stone and paving the road with it? The road as well. Filling the gaps between stones with soil might make it more stable.
Ah, and since you’re rebuilding the bridge anyway, wouldn’t it be good to make it measurable? If we carve markings into the bridge so the water level can be checked, it would help prepare for disasters.]

Christan’s eyes widened. Beneath the bold suggestion, smaller letters had been added.

[Of course, you may reject this. The Duke is always right. Loyalty!]

Christan rubbed the corner of his mouth, unable to suppress the laughter that escaped him. Seeing his reaction, Aidan leaned in as well. After reading the note, Aidan burst out laughing too—loud and hearty.

“Wow. Lady Roella’s insight is impressive. They do maintain roads like this in the capital. I hear it’s a method imported from the Shaden Empire.”

Christan cleared his throat and spoke with forced composure.

“…If it started in the capital, it’ll spread.”

“Most likely. All trends begin in the capital.”

“What’s the current output of the northern quarries?”

“…Ah!”

Come to think of it, the North did have quarries. Demand had been low, so production had steadily declined. But if this method became widespread, the quarry industry would revive.

“Hire more laborers and contact the merchant guilds heading to the capital. And if increased demand is confirmed, double the workforce.”

“That would contribute to the northern economy as well! And increasing employment will please the residents!”

Christan nodded faintly with a smile. Aidan was right. They had found a way to breathe life back into the northern economy, which had been suppressed by repeated battles.

“And it would be good to repair the northern roads as well. Increase the budget—carry out road construction along with the bridge repairs.”

“I’ll summon Jaiman tomorrow and give him the orders.”

“Install measuring gauges on the bridge too. It would be good if we could measure water temperature as well.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

They had decided to adopt all of Roella’s suggestions.

“The North is benefiting greatly thanks to Lady Roella’s enthusiasm.”

With a gentle smile, Christan gazed at the documents.

[Loyalty!]

That single word—written more roundly than the rest—gave off an inexplicably cute feeling.

A woman’s face floated into his mind—the one who had once clutched his hand and snored softly in her sleep. Then the sparkling eyes he had seen when he handed her the pendant.

Roella was honest with her emotions and expressive with her face.

Despite her upbringing, she was bright. Competent, diligent, and seemingly possessed of keen foresight. How did she even come up with ideas like this?

It was hard to reconcile these traits with her small frame and that foolish-looking face she wore at night when she slept without a shred of caution.

Just yesterday, she had slept half hanging off the bed. When he woke up, he was startled to find her head rammed aggressively into his side.

Trying to slip away without waking her had been both absurd and difficult.

Even though their roles felt reversed, he hadn’t minded. Perhaps it was because the mana that had been eating away at his body had finally subsided.

Besides, once Roella fell asleep, she rarely woke up.

Considering how that small body moved nonstop all day, it made sense.

“Tell the kitchen to pay closer attention to Lady Roella’s meals.”

“You gave the same order before.”

“More than last time.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“And from now on, if new documents come in, have some of them reviewed by Lady Roella. That should be fine.”

“Yes, Your Grace! A very reasonable decision.”

Aidan beamed. Having his workload reduced, he couldn’t have been happier. Hiring Roella had truly been a masterstroke.

The next day, when Jaiman arrived at work, what he received was not the document he had submitted.

It was a far cleaner, newly organized version.

And—

‘How did they even…?!’

Every discrepancy down to the smallest unit of currency had been caught. Jaiman felt his cheeks heat up.

As he reviewed the document with Christan and Aidan’s silent approval, he noticed a note attached at the very end.

This was unmistakably a woman’s handwriting.

Jaiman ran his tongue over his dry mouth. He had vowed to become a rising talent of the North, yet here was someone who made that resolve feel hollow.

An unnecessary sense of rivalry flared up.

‘There was already a rival!’

Of course—where there was a blue ocean, hyenas would inevitably gather.

“From what we’ve learned, the capital is also adopting the same method.”

“Yes, Your Grace. I couldn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t know how far Your Grace wished to proceed. My apologies!”

“No. I know how difficult it is to exceed expectations.”

Christan spoke kindly—but his words only fueled Jaiman’s competitive fire.

Someone capable of accomplishing that was already in the North!

The owner of that neat handwriting!

Jaiman clenched his teeth. Whoever it was, now that they had provoked him, he wouldn’t go down easily.

Unbeknownst to Roella, competitive flames were burning somewhere beyond her sight.

“I intend to take this opportunity to complete road maintenance as well. I’d like you to prepare for that. Naturally, you’ll need a new proposal. When can you have it ready?”

“One week—no! Five days, Your Grace!”

“You don’t need to overdo it.”

“No. I will repay the grace of being chosen.”

Jaiman smiled obsequiously. He had thought showing moderate competence would be enough to impress them—but that wouldn’t cut it anymore.

He would have to work as fiercely as he had in the capital—or even more so—to claim what he wanted.

Christan nodded, then extended his hand.

“Pardon?”

“The note. If you’re done reading it, hand it over.”

“Ah…!”

Without questioning, Jaiman passed the note to Christan. Christan carefully folded it and placed it in a drawer.

He didn’t know why he did it. He just felt like he should.

Like someone receiving a letter for the first time.

Throwing it away felt wrong. That single word—loyalty—pulled strangely at his heart. Losing it would, absurdly enough, feel regretful.

Christan let out a low sigh.

After Jaiman left and Aidan excused himself to attend to other matters, Christan took the note back out of the drawer.

“…What is it about this, anyway?”

He chuckled softly.

He found himself ridiculous.

And just as ridiculous was Roella—who was probably hammering away at her typewriter like a madwoman right about now.

Truly, absurdly so.