***

Richel had the servants organize the documents before sending them to Edwin.

The papers she had prepared for the handover were neatly stacked inside his room.

Some sections had not been fully sorted out yet, but those could always be explained later.

As she looked over the documents, the feeling struck her once again.

‘It’s really ending.’

Managing the estate had been exhausting and difficult, but it had also given her a sense of pride and accomplishment.

In a way, it was what had slowly pulled her out of the wounds and depression that had once consumed her life.

Turning to Edwin, she explained.

“These documents mainly summarize the changes and new systems implemented over the past three years. Read through them once first, then ask for the related reports afterward. It’ll make everything easier to understand.”

“Yeah… alright.”

Edwin answered weakly.

Thinking she might have pushed him too hard, Richel added.

“Get some proper rest today. You’ve been stressed and exhausted because of your uncle the entire time.”

Edwin pressed his lips tightly together.

‘I don’t want to act pathetic…’

His chest tightened under the crushing pressure.

It was a different feeling from the inferiority and resistance he had previously felt toward inheriting responsibilities.

Now, he was simply terrified that if he had to handle everything alone, he would ruin it all.

All he had truly wanted was to remain beside Richel and learn how to overcome his inferiority little by little.

He had no confidence whatsoever in managing things on his own.

‘Couldn’t I just stay beside you and slowly learn by watching what you do?’

But he could not bring himself to say those words aloud.

The very reason she had prepared these handover documents was to prevent exactly that kind of situation.

To minimize contact with him as much as possible.

So that she could leave whenever she wished.

As Edwin lowered his head gloomily, Richel spoke again.

“If you’re curious about the reports used in actual operations, just ask the butler. He’ll bring them to you right away. No one understands the estate’s affairs better than he does, so feel free to ask him anything you need.”

To Edwin, those words sounded almost like, ‘Talk to the butler instead. Don’t come to me.’

That only left him more unable to say anything.

After Richel left, he began flipping through the documents alone.

The papers were organized neatly enough to read comfortably, but they were far from easy to understand.

After all, they had been written on the assumption that the reader already understood the estate’s existing management system.

Edwin, who had never taken much interest in the estate before, lacked even the most basic foundation.

He struggled desperately to make sense of it, but in the end, he closed the documents before even getting halfway through.

The next morning, the butler arrived at the count’s chambers early and was immediately startled.

Edwin looked even worse than he had the day before.

Despite supposedly resting for an entire day, the shadows beneath his eyes had deepened, and his complexion looked even darker.

“My lord, are you unwell? Shall I summon the physician?”

“No. I just… didn’t sleep properly.”

As Edwin answered, he found himself wishing he truly was sick.

If he were ill, then he could use that as an excuse to postpone the work a little longer.

‘Stop thinking such pathetic things.’

Forcing himself to straighten his thoughts, he slowly rose to his feet.

“I’ll wash up and come out. Just prepare some tea. I don’t want breakfast.”

“Understood. I’ll prepare a strong tea to help with your fatigue.”

“Yeah. Starting today, I have to somehow manage the work…”

He glanced at the towering pile of documents before heading toward the bath.

The sight of him walking there with a sigh looked no different from an animal being led to sl*ughter.

The butler quickly understood the situation.

‘So he tried reading through all these alone without any explanation…’

Just yesterday, the documents had been perfectly arranged.

Now the papers were crooked and disordered from being repeatedly flipped through.

The butler let out a quiet sigh.

‘At this rate, he’s going to struggle for quite some time again.’

He had worked in this household for many years, and because of that, he understood Edwin’s temperament better than most.

Ever since childhood, Edwin had been delicate and sensitive.

Whenever things failed to go the way he expected, he would lose confidence immediately and become deeply discouraged.

Even his toys had been like that.

“This won’t work… hic… sniff…”

Puzzles that were too difficult.

Wooden blocks that would not stack the way he wanted.

Balls that failed to roll properly.

Those kinds of things became problems.

Young Edwin would stubbornly struggle with them alone, only to eventually burst into tears.

Seeing their son upset, Edwin’s parents would simply have those toys removed.

There were countless other amusements waiting in his room anyway.

Toy after toy had appeared beside Edwin, only to disappear the moment he cried over them.

“It disappeared again. Because I couldn’t do it…”

Young Edwin would sniffle as he said things like that.

The butler would insist that was not the reason, but Edwin never truly believed him.

A delicate child who learned slowly.

The late count and countess had never truly understood how different their son was from themselves.

Their own competence had become poison.

To them, Edwin’s failures and mistakes never seemed like ordinary things that any child might naturally experience.

And so Edwin gradually became more and more sensitive toward mistakes and failure, dwelling on them for long periods as proof of his own incompetence.

‘Honestly, it would’ve been better if he had simply rested properly instead…’

If he had, then today he could have sat together with the butler, listened to explanations, understood things one by one, and slowly adjusted.

Unfortunately, Edwin had already lost all confidence after fumbling through the documents alone.

At this rate, the burden he felt toward the work would only continue to grow heavier.

Pressure and tension were the greatest enemies when handling work.

They narrowed a person’s perspective.

And they were the fastest way to turn imagined incompetence into reality.

The butler decided on a different approach.

Something simpler.

More direct.

And capable of fully capturing Edwin’s attention.

Calling over a servant, he instructed.

“Go and summon Clompo.”

***

In the southern region of the Isle territory, six villages were spread across the land.

Hilda was the representative of the third village among them.

From spring through autumn, there was never a shortage of work in the village.

Plowing the land, planting seeds, caring for livestock, managing harvests, storing grain for the next season.

When that many tasks piled up endlessly, problems naturally followed just as often.

A village representative’s role was to mediate those problems first and find ways to resolve them.

Of course, quite a few situations could not be settled that easily.

Whenever that happened, they reported the matter to Clompo or the guards, and the higher authorities would step in to handle it directly.

‘Maybe once I step down as village representative next year, I’ll finally have a little less work to do.’

The position itself was merely an honorary one with no real power.

All she did was use her experience and knowledge to help solve problems here and there.

‘It’s basically a position where you work yourself to the bone for nothing.’

Even while thinking that, Hilda let out a small laugh.

Still, compared to the past, life was much easier and better now.

Ever since losing her husband and child in her youth, she had never lived a life this busy—or this meaningful.

“Hilda! Hilda! Come out quickly! They dragged the pig into the square!”

One of the villagers called for her excitedly.

Pig-slaughtering days always meant there would be plenty of food to go around.

Picking up a large knife, Hilda headed outside.

The air was bitterly cold.

People were boiling water all around the square, but the warmth barely reached her.

‘Well, at least this weather is good for preserving meat.’

As blood and entrails spoil easily, colder days were always preferable for this type of work.

Hilda moved skillfully as she slaughtered the pig.

The villagers hung it upside down quickly.

The more blood that drained away at once, the less likely the meat was to spoil, and the better it would taste.

People rushed around with buckets, catching the blood as it poured down.

The entire square was bustling with activity.

“Hilda! Hilda, where are you?! Oh no, this is bad!”

A man came running in while shouting frantically.

Wiping the blood splattered across her face, Hilda stood up.

“What’s got you making such a fuss?”

“The count is here! He came with Clompo and said he wants to inspect the village!”

“…The count?”

“I’m telling you, it’s true! Looks like he’s touring the territory. They said they’d fetch the village representative, so you need to hurry. Come on, quickly!”

“What? Can’t you see the state I’m in right now?”

From the top of her blouse to the hem of her skirt, her clothes were drenched in pig blood.

Slaughtering a pig and draining its blood always ended up like this.

The man muttered in panic.

“W-What do we do? I already said you’d come right away…”

Hilda let out a sigh.

‘I should at least wash up a little and change clothes first. But how long would that take?’

Looking down at her blood-soaked skirt, she sighed again.

At that moment, Clompo appeared from one of the alleyways.

He immediately spotted Hilda and waved energetically.

“So everyone was here? I was wondering why the village looked so empty…”

When he saw the pig hanging upside down, he let out an impressed sound.

Clompo loved blood sausage, so the prospect of obtaining fresh pig’s blood instantly lifted his spirits.

The Count appeared behind him.

The villagers, who had been bustling around noisily moments earlier, froze instantly.

The man who had been panicking earlier jabbed Hilda repeatedly in the side.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and go.”

Hilda glanced down at her blood-covered clothes before sighing.

‘Well, nothing else for it. I’ll just greet him first.’

A village representative could hardly turn her back when the lord himself had come to visit.

She roughly washed only her face and hands with nearby water before approaching the count.

“Greetings, my lord. I am Hilda, the representative of this village. We happened to be slaughtering pigs today, so my appearance is rather—”

Her words faltered mid-sentence.

The count had gone deathly pale at the sight of her.

His gaze was fixed on her skirt.

The hem was soaked entirely in blood.

“Ugh—!”

Doubling over suddenly, he vomited on the spot.

“My lord, are you alright?”

Startled, Hilda hurriedly tried to support him.

Edwin gasped harshly, overcome with nausea and terror.

The blood-soaked skirt brushed against his body.

The sensation was horrifying.

He violently shoved Hilda away.

“Ah—!”

Thrown backward, Hilda collapsed onto the ground.

The villagers watching nearby erupted into shocked murmurs.

Edwin turned away immediately.

‘I need to get away from here. Quickly.’

Uneven, ragged breaths began escaping him.

Gasping harshly, Edwin stumbled away from the scene in haste.