A New Baron and Old Schemes

A Deep, Restful Sleep

The next day, the sun was already high in the sky when she awoke.

Noren, looking utterly languid, pushed aside her fur blanket. She yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and extended a bare foot, as smooth and pale as polished jade, from beneath the covers.

With a delicate flick of her toes, two cashmere socks flew into her grasp, and she slipped them on.

She then swung out of bed, her feet finding their way into a pair of leather boots. The heels tapped a soft ‘thud-thud’ against the wooden floorboards.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face, dressed, combed her hair, and braided it with practiced ease.

Tightening her leather belt, she secured her treasured sword at her hip.

“Whoosh!” With a forceful shove, the wooden window flew open, inviting a rush of fresh air into the room.

Noren faced the window, spreading her arms wide. A look of pure comfort and enjoyment graced her beautiful features.

‘Ah, there’s nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed,’ she thought, a long groan escaping her as she stretched her arms high above her head, clasping her hands behind her neck. ‘And with the mystery of the pure-blood revealed, my mood feels much lighter!’

After a thorough stretch, the last vestiges of her morning lethargy vanished. She was fully revitalized!

Noren gazed up at the azure sky outside her window, one hand resting confidently on her hip, the other flexing her chest. A confident smile played on her lips. “Time to get to work!”

****

Nearly a month of travel had left Ostrava with a mountain of affairs demanding attention.

There were records of farm tools, plough horses, oxen, ploughs, and yokes to reconcile for borrowing and return. Inspections of village road cleanliness needed to be conducted, along with assessments of the wheat fields’ ripeness and the villagers’ progress in animal husbandry. She also had to mediate disputes between villagers and sift through countless rumors and petty reports.

Only after inspecting the brewery’s production, its reserves of liquor, and its stock of hops did Noren finally breathe a sigh of relief.

She wiped a non-existent bead of sweat from her brow. “Damn it, why do *I* have to deal with all this? It’s only in Huaxia that a Crown Prince oversees the state. Why is Svein acting the same way?”

A small, blonde girl beside her offered a cup of ice water. “Sister Noren, drink some water~”

Noren bent down, taking a sip, then playfully pinched Freya’s soft cheek. “Freya, you’ve worked so hard~ If not for your help, I’d probably be listening to those villagers bicker all day long.”

Freya shook her head, then wrapped her arms around Noren’s slender waist, burying her small face against her sister’s chest. “It’s not hard, I love helping you, Sister.”

“No, I can’t let you help me for nothing. You also put in a lot of effort when we collected the in-kind taxes.”

Noren lifted Freya’s face, planting a kiss, ‘mu—ma!’, on her smooth forehead. She looked at Freya with the affectionate gaze one reserves for a beloved younger sister. “Tell me, what gift do you want?”

“I want a big tabby cat, please?” Freya asked cautiously. She knew her sister wasn’t fond of cats, but she truly longed for a feline companion.

“Why not?” Noren found the girl’s hesitant expression amusing.

Her eyes curved into crescents, a mischievous glint in her green gaze. “And I can give you a cat right this instant, you know~”

“Really?!” Freya’s eyes widened with surprise and delight. She danced with excitement, leaping up to pepper Noren’s face with kisses.

Noren was flustered by Freya’s sudden burst of affection. She quickly held the little girl by her shoulders. “Why would I lie to you? Am I that kind of person?”

“However, since it’s a gift, it must be presented in the proper way… Close your eyes and turn around.”

Ignorant of life’s subtle deceits, Freya, brimming with anticipation, closed her eyes and turned away.

A few seconds passed. “Is it ready yet, Sister?”

“Wait a moment.”

Half a minute later. “Is it ready this time?”

“Still waiting.”

Two minutes later. “I can’t wait any longer, you know~”

“Alright. You can only open your eyes when I say so, okay?” Noren’s sweet breath brushed against Freya’s ear.

“Mm-hm, I’m not in a hurry.”

The next moment, Freya felt a cool, sticky sensation on her face. She opened her eyes in surprise and touched it with her fingers.

Mud!

Her expression was blank, endearingly bewildered, as she watched Noren burst into laughter.

“Haha, a little tabby cat!” Noren laughed, hands on her hips, swaying back and forth with mirth, almost tumbling to the ground.

It took Freya a long moment to realize she’d been tricked. Her small face flushed crimson with anger and embarrassment. “Sister, you’re mean!!!”

Furious and flustered, Freya picked up some mud from the ground and hurled it at Noren’s face. Yet, her aim was consistently off, and Noren skillfully dodged each projectile with twists and turns.

“Hehe~ Can’t hit me, can’t hit me!” Noren stood her ground, hands clasped behind her head, her lithe body swaying left and right, perfectly evading every thrown object.

“Waaah~ Sister’s bullying me!” Freya cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. She crouched down, hugging her knees, and began to sob loudly.

“Oh no,” Noren muttered, scratching her cheek awkwardly. She had taken the joke too far.

Noren, feeling a pang of guilt, stepped forward and knelt. She extended a hand towards Freya, whose shoulders were still trembling with sobs. “I’m sorry, Freya. Can you forgive me? I promise I’ll get you a real kitten.”

“Really?” Freya didn’t look up. Though her sobs had ceased, her body still heaved.

Noren nodded. “Truly, more real than gold!”

“Really, really, really?” Freya still kept her head down, her body seeming to tense.

“Truly…” Noren’s brow furrowed slightly as she sensed something was amiss.

Before she could stand, a splat of mud exploded on her face!

“Ha! I hit you, nyah nyah nyah~” Freya darted away, sticking out her tongue and making a face at Noren from a distance. “That’s what you get for bullying me, you mean sister, nyah—!”

Noren had been careless and hadn’t dodged.

But even if she had been careless, could the reaction speed of a powerless little girl compare to that of a ‘Hercules’?

Noren breathed a sigh of relief. She had been afraid she had truly hurt Freya’s feelings, for a child’s wounded heart could carry scars for a lifetime.

She wiped the mud from her face, then shaped her hands into claws, mimicking a lion’s roar. “Meow! The big tabby cat is coming to catch the little tabby cat!”

The two girls frolicked away, their laughter echoing.

****

Hradec Mayor’s Manor, Study

“Tap, tap.”

“Enter.”

“Mayor, a knight claiming to be Vaslav, a retainer of Jaromir, has delivered a letter.” The blonde guard held a rolled parchment in his hand.

“Bring it here.” Sithi’s pen paused, and he returned the quill to its silver inkwell.

“Yes, sir!”

Sithi untied the dark red ribbon wrapped around the parchment. Holding the scroll by both ends, he unfurled it and began to scan its contents from top to bottom. His eyes widened gradually, growing increasingly astonished.

“Where is that knight? Please invite him in for a discussion.” Sithi closed the scroll. The contents of this letter—no, this enfeoffment document—had utterly surprised him; he needed to verify it.

“Shhhk!” A metallic scraping sound filled the air, and heavy footsteps made the wooden floor groan as a burly man, clad in armor from head to toe, strode in.

“Good day, Mayor of Hradec.” The knight possessed a pair of piercing blue eyes, an appearance suggesting he was between twenty and thirty years old, and a stature of five feet eight inches. His right hand rested empty at his waist, where his one-handed war sword had once been.

Sithi remained silent, noting with displeasure that the knight had neither removed his helmet nor performed the customary knight’s salute.

He gestured to the blonde guard, who understood and dragged over a rough wooden chair.

The knight sat down, and with a loud ‘CRACK!’, the chair splintered, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“You scoundrel!”

The knight was enraged. He instinctively reached for his sword, only to find the spot where it usually hung empty.

The blonde guard cast a mocking, disdainful glance at the knight, then sauntered out of the study, cradling the back of his neck.

“I’ll kill him!” The knight was seething with fury, making to rush out of the study, intent on reclaiming his sword and slaying the disrespectful blonde guard.

“Hmph, calm yourself, Sir… Vaslav. My guards would never bring a broken chair, nor does Hradec possess inferior seating. Perhaps there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” The knight roared, pointing at the shattered remnants on the floor. He stomped his foot, and the fragments instantly turned to dust. “Is *this* a misunderstanding?!”

Sithi’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It must be your armor, Sir Knight, it’s simply too heavy. Perhaps if you removed your esteemed helmet, such an incident wouldn’t occur.”

The knight instantly understood that this was Sithi’s ploy!

He indeed looked down upon this provincial mayor and scorned Hradec’s low, ugly walls. To a knight from Prague like himself, no one, save for Duke Wratislaw and his liege, Bishop Jaromir, was worthy of his respect—not even the Holy Roman Emperor.

Nevertheless, he removed his helmet. He did so solely to complete the mission entrusted to him by Bishop Jaromir.

He took off his mail coif and linen hood, then made a fist and placed it over his chest, performing a proper knight’s salute once more.

Sithi also rose, returned the bow, and then resumed his seat.

The knight spoke. “Can we now discuss the enfeoffment document?”

“Of course.” Sithi had invited the knight precisely to inquire about the enfeoffment. However, the knight’s arrogance, coupled with Sithi’s own foul mood after reading the document, had prompted him to play a trick.

“This enfeoffment document, was it truly handed to you personally by Bishop Jaromir?”

The knight retorted sarcastically, “Surely you recognize the Přemyslid family’s wax seal upon it?”

Sithi’s thumbnail picked at the family seal on the enfeoffment document, red flecks and powder filling the crevices of his nail. He recognized the seal; his own mayoral appointment letter, a decade and a half ago, had borne an identical wax impression.

“Of course I recognize it.”

“Then what are you still doubting? Opava is Bishop Jaromir’s fief, and he has the right to enfeoff a baron. His Lordship’s exact words were: ‘Svein has guarded the border for many years, leaving Poland and Magyar untouched. Opava’s territory is tranquil and prosperous. Such a frontier warrior must be enfeoffed.'”

“…”

“Do you have any further matters? If not, I shall take my leave.” The knight watched Sithi fall silent, then let out a soft “Heh-heh” before humming a tune and exiting the study.

Just before stepping out the main door, he lowered his voice, yet made no effort to conceal his mockery. “I’ve managed Hradec for over a decade, and it’s still this pathetic excuse for a city. I wouldn’t want to stay here a moment longer. No wonder Lord Jaromir would enfeoff a Northman, hmph, what a joke!”

The study door slammed shut with a resounding ‘BANG!’

Sithi’s fingernails dug deeply into the flesh of his palms. The more he stared at the Latin script of the enfeoffment document, the more bitter resentment churned within him. After years of painstaking effort, was this truly the outcome?

“Fa-Father?” A blonde boy, with a wooden puppet toy balanced on his head, suddenly appeared. “You seem very unhappy?”

“Knutr?” Sithi stared blankly at his suddenly appearing son, his gaze hollow as he looked forward, a wicked smile spreading across his lips.

“Fa-Father, your smile is scary…” The blonde boy whimpered nervously.

Sithi, oblivious to his son’s frightened expression, was engrossed in another matter: Bohemia’s succession law. Bohemia followed male primogeniture, a law established by the previous duke to ensure harmony among his own sons.

The core of the inheritance law stipulated that if an elder brother died, a younger brother could inherit. Whoever was oldest in the family would inherit the main title and most of the territory.

Svein, Anna, Noren, Frey, Knutr.

“Heh!” Sithi suddenly felt happy again. He knew this was Jaromir’s scheme of provocation, but with such a tempting bait before him, he couldn’t help but take the hook.