“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Mrs. Dablang hurried down to the rear courtyard. The noise was tremendous with the whole village gathered together.

She felt as though she had stepped into a henhouse packed with hundreds of chickens, and began lining them up. Sebastien helped her.

“Couldn’t you just call the representatives and hand things out to them? That’s how it’s always been done.”

Sebastien muttered under his breath, but Mrs. Dablang rolled up her sleeves.

“Quiet! Write down the numbers instead of talking.”

“All right, all right.”

She dragged her timid cousin along like a shadow and moved through the crowd.

Mrs. Dablang calmed the milling farmers, carefully assigned numbers, and tallied the count. She confirmed every head — the bewildered women blinking in confusion, even the wailing newborns.

As time passed, those who had been baffled at first gradually fell into orderly lines.

“Your Majesty, it’s done as you instructed. Shall I distribute the supplies and send them home now?”

At last, Mrs. Dablang held out the paper recording the household count. The empress took it and read through it with a serious expression. Then she gave another order that was, once again, not quite what was expected.

“Tell them to return home and wait. The supplies will be distributed in two days.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Aella drew the lace shawl Tilda had draped over her shoulders more tightly around herself.

The wind was growing fiercer by the moment. The sun still had a long way to go before setting, yet the sky had already turned ashen.

“Have the servants take down the tents in the rear courtyard. With the wind this strong, it will be dangerous to leave them up. And I plan to inspect the kitchen myself. They will be startled if I arrive without warning, so go ahead and let them know.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Tilda nodded, squinting against the biting wind, and ran down the castle wall. Watching Tilda’s retreating figure, Aella gathered her thoughts.

If she issued an evacuation order when the storm actually hit, most people would simply not come.

Rain in Heirn at this time of year was common. It was so familiar that the farmers went about their work regardless of rain or shine. She had learned this from the damage reports she had received in her past life.

So words like ‘evacuation’ or ’emergency’ would do nothing to move the farmers. And besides……

‘The farm is their livelihood.’

Rather than telling them to abandon everything they had built and flee, it would be far more effective to tell them to come and collect generous supplies.

They would grumble about being called out in the rain, but they would come.

She wanted to save everyone, if she could.

That was why she had used the pretext of distributing supplies per head to determine the household count.

Aella looked out with uneasy eyes at the bare mountains and the Suidnya River stretching beyond them.

“I’ll need to choose the right moment to call everyone in, before the river floods and triggers the landslide.”

She had steeled her resolve and was turning away when a strong gust of wind tore the shawl from her shoulders and sent it floating down below the castle wall.

A short woman picked up the white shawl as it drifted down. The sight of her rounded belly made Aella’s eyes go wide.

A boisterous man’s voice seemed to ring in her ears.

“How old is your daughter?”

“She’s still in my wife’s belly. Due this summer. I called her a daughter because I’m hoping she’ll be a girl who takes after her mother.”

From her careful watch atop the castle wall, Aella had observed only one pregnant woman among the crowd. The woman standing there, clutching the shawl and not knowing what to do, had to be the wife of Bruno, the large farmer.

He had said she was due in summer, but her belly was already as full as a woman at term.

The woman shook out the shawl and looked up at Aella with eyes as dark and gentle as a sheep’s. She seemed to want to return it but wasn’t sure if she should.

“I’ll go right away!”

Nicby Bormien, who had been standing there blankly, called out helpfully. He pulled off his slate-blue frock coat and held it out.

Aella looked at it for a moment, then draped it over her shoulders with a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

“Oh…… I’m the grateful one, Your Majesty!”

Nicby cried out with great feeling and charged down the stairs. But he seemed to miss a step before reaching the landing and tumbled down with tremendous noise.

“I, I’m fi, fine! Your Majesty……”

A voice that was clearly not fine at all came crawling up the stairs. Aella let out a sigh and made her way down.

She helped Nicby Bormien to his feet, then draped the frock coat back over his drooping shoulders. Nicby cringed with embarrassment and rubbed at his eyebrow.

“Ow…… Your Majesty, the stairs are uneven and dangerous. Please be careful.”

“Then you’ll have to escort me.”

“What? Yes, yes! Of course.”

Nicby recovered his smile in an instant and offered his arm with great solemnity.

Aella had barely entered the rear courtyard, half-supporting the unsteady aide, when a familiar face appeared.

Bruno, who had been saying something to the woman holding the shawl, broke into a bright laugh.

“Your Majesty!”

The couple offered their own somewhat clumsy bow. Nicby carefully received the shawl they held out.

Aella exchanged easy conversation with the couple. Bruno chattered on with an animated face.

“The vines are in full sap right now. Fluffy little buds like wool broke open a fortnight ago. I even hired extra hands recently just to pull the weeds.”

Listening to his voice, so full of love for his land, her heart grew heavy.

Even if luck held and she managed to evacuate everyone, the farm they cherished so deeply could not be saved.

Aella’s violet eyes darkened.

Before some great force, a person was this helpless. There were things that could not be stopped no matter how hard one struggled.

Her wretched death in her past life had been that way. So had crossing the River of Oblivion beyond death and receiving a second life.

What meaning was there in enduring such trials and miracles?

Was it the capricious play of some god?

Like the tales of old legends, the desperate wish of a human who burned themselves alive?

Or was it simply something that happened by chance?

Drifting on the swell of uncertain thoughts, Aella pulled out one clear truth.

No matter how fiercely fate bore down on her, there was no reason to stop struggling.

Even if that struggle left nothing more than the faint trail of an ant, it had meaning. She believed that.

Aella pressed her feet into the ground and straightened her back. She sharpened the edges of her dulled resolve.

After that, the wind gusting through her neckline and sleeves no longer felt cold.

Her composure restored, she asked Bruno in a careful voice.

“Among those gathered today, is there anyone who has difficulty moving about?”

“To my knowledge, there’s no one ill enough to have trouble moving, Your Majesty the Empress.”

“That’s a relief. Watching from the castle wall, it seemed your wife was the only pregnant woman here.”

Bruno stole a fond glance at his wife’s swollen belly and answered at full volume.

“Yes, that’s right. I can’t speak to every woman’s condition, but the only one with a belly close to full term is my wife. Ah, there are five or six women who gave birth last winter and this spring.”

He added quickly.

“Heirn doesn’t have a very large population, and most people work in farming. Perhaps because the water is good and the wine even better, everyone tends to be quite healthy.”

Aella listened to Bruno with genuine attention, a gentle smile on her lips.

The surrounding farmers watched the young couple talking with the empress with envious eyes. With all that attention on him, Bruno grew more animated and talked on and on.

He started with how much he loved his farm, then went on without hesitation to his hope that the daughter soon to be born would be round and pretty as a grape.

His wife nodded along with rosy cheeks and a gentle expression. This simple couple looked entirely, completely happy.

“Your Majesty, the kitchen is ready.”

“Good.”

Tilda appeared at last with her report, and the long conversation came to an end.

Aella bid farewell to Bruno and stepped into the kitchen, where a wave of heat greeted her.