Chapter 14: The Duchess’s Shrewd Hand

In the southern reaches of the Empire, within the Ducal Territory of Liddell, stood the Duke’s sprawling manor.

“‘Please, compose yourself, Madam. Allow me to explain fully,'” the merchant representative began, his voice deferential. “‘The downturn in this quarter’s agricultural market profits is primarily due to the poor harvests suffered by several surrounding villages…'”

He stood in the Duke’s study, offering his report with utmost reverence.

The central town of the Liddell Ducal Territory boasted the region’s largest agricultural market. It had been established through Duke Liddell’s own investment, then entrusted to a prominent local merchant guild for management and leasing.

This arrangement drew in prosperous farmers and collective households from all the neighboring villages. While the collected rents belonged entirely to the Duke, the merchant guild, in turn, received a substantial commission for their services.

“‘Poor harvests?'” The woman seated behind the grand desk gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. “‘That’s truly dreadful. Surely the villagers won’t go hungry this year?'” She wore a look of genuine concern.

The local lord, Duke Liddell, had passed away prematurely three months prior, at the age of forty-five, succumbing to an illness.

With no direct heirs, all ducal affairs within the territory had been temporarily entrusted to the Duchess until a suitable successor could be found.

“‘Oh, it’s not quite so severe yet,'” the merchant representative replied politely, though his eyes strayed. “‘It’s merely that people have less surplus grain, which means fewer goods available for sale in the market. Consequently, many farmers have recently terminated their leases…'”

His gaze, rather impudently, lingered on the Duchess’s ample bosom.

The Duke’s widow, the Duchess, was in her early thirties, more than a decade younger than her late husband. She was a woman of captivating beauty, yet fate had cruelly left her a widow at such a tender age.

‘A woman like her must surely have certain desires,’ the merchant representative mused, his thoughts turning improper. ‘Perhaps she’s already seeking a lover behind closed doors…’

He harbored a degree of disdain for the Duchess. During the Duke’s lifetime, he had encountered her on several occasions.

From those brief interactions, he had concluded she wasn’t particularly intelligent, a quintessential naive noblewoman, wholly unaware of the world’s harsh realities.

Duke Liddell, during his life, had been remarkably easy to deceive. The merchant guild had consistently used falsified accounts to underreport profits, illicitly siphoning off the market’s rental income.

Now that control had fallen into the hands of the Duchess, who, in his estimation, understood nothing, it wouldn’t be long before the guild could seize complete dominance over the entire market.

Suddenly, however, the Duchess shifted the conversation. “‘Yet, the reports from my manor’s kitchen staff seem to contradict your assertions somewhat,'” she stated.

“‘Flour in the market has become cheaper, vegetable stalls are offering potatoes as freebies, and pork at the butcher’s is five copper coins less per kilogram than last month. Furthermore, a trading company at the port has rented a stall to sell pepper grown in the newly opened territories. None of this, to my eye, suggests a poor harvest.'”

“‘This…'” The merchant representative was momentarily caught off guard, but quickly regained his composure. “‘These might just be isolated incidents, Madam. After all, your kitchen staff likely deals with stable suppliers. Individual cases can hardly represent the entire market.'”

“‘Then how do you explain this?'” The Duchess asked, a faint smile playing on her lips as she produced a small ledger and extended it towards him.

The merchant representative took the ledger, puzzled, and began to flip through its pages. He nearly cried out in shock.

This was an account book, meticulously detailing every income and expenditure of the merchant guild regarding the agricultural market. Unlike the falsified records he had just submitted, these entries were all genuine—a fact the merchant representative knew all too well!

It wasn’t the original ledger; it was clearly a meticulously copied duplicate. The book itself wasn’t terrifying, but what it implied was: the Duchess had an informant within the guild’s financial department. She was perfectly aware of their fraudulent accounting practices!

“‘This, this…'” The merchant representative stammered, scrambling for excuses in vain.

“‘There’s no need to explain to me,'” the Duchess said, her smile elegant as she met his gaze. “‘We both understand the situation perfectly. For the crime of embezzling noble assets, you may find a scapegoat to take the blame.'”

“‘However, according to the contract you renewed with my late husband, the amount you owe for breach of agreement…'” She paused, her smile unwavering. “‘It’s not a small sum, by any means.'”

Cold sweat immediately beaded on the merchant representative’s brow.

“‘You may discuss the remaining matters with my lawyer,'” the Duchess continued. “‘You should expect a summons from the Tribunal very soon.'” With that, she picked up a small handbell, shook it gently, and summoned her butler.

“‘How may I be of service, Madam?'” The butler bowed respectfully.

“‘Arrange a carriage, and please escort Master Representative to Lawyer Lehman’s office,'” the Duchess instructed, gesturing for the butler to see the man out.

Upon hearing this, the merchant representative wasn’t just sweating cold; he felt as though he might wet himself.

The Duchess had summoned a locally renowned legal shark! With such damning evidence in hand, that man was perfectly capable of driving the entire merchant guild into bankruptcy!

“‘Please, please wait!'” the merchant representative cried out, his voice cracking. “‘We can still negotiate—'”

“‘Escort him out,'” the Duchess said, her smile unfaltering as she nodded to the butler.

As if on cue, two footmen emerged from behind the prepared butler. They took hold of the crestfallen merchant representative, forcibly “escorting” him from the study.

“‘Are there any other guests?'” the Duchess inquired of her butler.

“‘None, Madam.'”

“‘You may leave, then. I shall be taking my afternoon nap,'” she instructed. “‘Call me for dinner, and do not disturb me before then unless absolutely necessary.'”

“‘Very good, Madam.'” The butler bowed with practiced courtesy, then backed out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

As he turned to depart, the butler let out a long, silent breath.

He had been employed by the Duke to manage this estate for twenty years, yet in the presence of this new mistress, he hardly dared to breathe.

There were, in truth, some rather unsavory rumors circulating about this Duchess.

In his youth, the Duke had been a notorious rake, indulging in women until well into middle age, never once considering marriage. That was, until he completely succumbed to the captivating beauty of this woman.

He married her, doted on her excessively, and followed her every word.

Yet, this marriage had lasted less than seven months. The Duke, who had previously been of robust health, had suddenly succumbed to a swift and fatal illness.

Occasionally, whispers circulated among the populace that the Duchess had poisoned her husband to inherit his fortune, though no evidence ever supported such claims.

Before the Duke’s demise, the Duchess had always presented herself as an ignorant noblewoman, merely fortunate to have married into power.

After his death, however, she shed her pretense. With various shrewd maneuvers, she single-handedly seized full authority over the ducal territory.

The Duchess proved to be a far superior administrator than the Duke ever was. She was astute and capable, adept at navigating complex situations. She possessed both keen intellect and an iron will, and most crucially, her “luck” was extraordinary.

Following the Duke’s sudden death just months after their marriage, there had been a distant nephew who rightfully stood to inherit the title.

Yet, by a remarkable coincidence, a mere three days after the Duke’s passing, this nephew suddenly contracted a plague. He was forced into bedrest, rendering him temporarily unable to complete the inheritance.

The butler had no desire to delve deeply into the true cause of the Duke’s death.

He knew only that if he wished to cherish the remainder of his life, he must never, under any circumstances, defy this woman.

The true master of this territory now was none other than the Duchess.

****

Inside the study, the Duchess rose from her seat. Instead of moving towards the comfortable rocking chair, she walked to the door, then shifted her gaze to a corner of the room.

“‘Come out,'” the Duchess commanded. “‘You’ve been hiding there since I entered. Now that everyone else is gone, your opportunity has arrived.'”