Margaret once again offered Boshni a few words of persuasion, but Boshni remained stubborn.
Seeing her reluctance, Margaret eventually let it be.
However, Margaret still felt a sense of responsibility; she personally took Boshni to the stables, ensuring she was properly introduced and integrated with the other horse caretakers.
Finally, Margaret sought out the person in charge of the stables.
The stablemaster, clad in attire far from elegant, greeted Margaret with deep reverence.
His clothes, a dark hue resembling brown but nearly black, contrasted sharply with the setting.
He bowed earnestly to Margaret, expressing his surprise and concern about her visit to such a dirty place, fearing it might tarnish her exquisite garments.
Margaret addressed the stablemaster with a clear directive: to take good care of Boshni and not to make her work life difficult.
The stablemaster agreed without hesitation and respectfully saw Margaret off from the stables.
Once Margaret had left, the stablemaster began familiarizing Boshni with her new duties around the stables.
He emphasized to her, “Since Lady Margaret holds you in such high regard, you must dedicate yourself to this work. Should you achieve noteworthy results, I will certainly report them to Lord Howard.”
And so, Boshni embarked on her journey in the world of horse rearing.
Meanwhile, within the castle, Golan found himself standing before Howard.
Howard inquired, “Do you know why I summoned you here, Golan?”
Golan, with a hint of resignation, replied, “Is it to avenge Kaido? If so, you might as well kill me now.”
Observing Golan’s neck, proud and defiant like a rooster in its prime, Howard decided not to beat around the bush.
He revealed his true intentions to Golan. 𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝘰𝑚
Golan was taken aback by the honor, immediately expressing his willingness to become Howard’s knight squire.
“I have long admired Lord Howard’s great talent and strategy! It is my privilege, Golan, to serve you,” he proclaimed with genuine respect.
Howard smiled faintly, nodding in approval.
He proceeded to familiarize Golan with the duties he would be expected to perform.
Drawing his sword, Howard said, “This needs oiling once a month. Be careful with it, this blade is an ancient relic.”
Next, Howard presented his armor to Golan. 𝑖𝘦.𝘤𝑜𝘮
“The same goes for this armor. It needs oiling monthly, and you must be meticulous – every part must be cleaned.”
Golan nodded in understanding, prepared to undertake his new responsibilities with diligence and honor.
Later on, Howard took Golan for a horseback riding session to practice equestrian skills.
While leading the horses, they encountered Boshni.
Howard inquired, “How are you finding the work here? If you feel it’s too tiring or dirty, let me know, and I can arrange a different job for you.” Boshni assured him that she was not tired.
The stablemaster, having prepared Howard’s horse, commended, “She’s doing quite well, showing a natural talent in caring for these horses.” Howard, intrigued, asked, “In what way is she talented?” The stablemaster explained, “Take your horse, for instance. It’s known for its wild temperament, and we usually struggle to control it. But Boshni manages to care for it gently and effectively. The horse rests well under her care, conserving energy for its runs.”
Howard cast a surprised glance at Boshni, then nodded in acknowledgment.
With a firm press of his legs, his horse sprinted forward, and Golan followed suit on his mount.
As dusk fell, Howard and Golan returned to the castle, leading their horses back to the stables, concluding their day’s equestrian training.
Over at Gokasu Castle, Mibo was in a state of utter panic, pacing relentlessly around the grand hall of the castle.
His son Ivan, watching anxiously, asked, “Why do you keep walking like this? Does it really help?”
Mibo, agitated, responded, “Since you’ve been to Fernsouth, tell me, what’s your estimate of when Howard will attack?” Ivan admitted that he had no idea.
Mibo rolled his eyes, his expression one of frustration and disappointment towards his son.
Meanwhile, Mibo’s cousin, Duke Ferald, was in the dungeons conversing with Osborne.
Surrounded by seven or eight prison guards, Ferald, a man of influence, never allowed himself to be without protection.
Osborne, held in a moderately comfortable cell with a chair, a table, a bed, and a blanket, looked at the Duke with the same desperation a flower has for water.
“Finally, you’re here. Please, get me out,” he pleaded.
The Duke looked at him coldly and said, “You were quite defiant during the meeting. Now you want out?”
Osborne replied, “These are two separate matters and should not be confused. I embezzled your money, and I am serving my punishment for it. But that doesn’t change my current wish to be released.”
The Duke, curious, asked him, “Osborne, you’re a baron, a castle owner. It puzzles me. If you couldn’t become the Minister of Finance, why didn’t you just manage your own lands? Why meddle in these troubled waters and cost my son the position of Finance Minister?”
Osborne retorted, “Duke, my nature is such that I cannot swallow my pride. And what’s even harder to endure is someone less capable than me taking my place. Do you find this reason sufficient, my lord?”
The Duke, speaking with great gravity, addressed Osborne, “As a vassal, is it not your duty to have some insight into your superiors’ thoughts, beyond just your own capabilities? Is your diplomatic skill so lacking that it’s negative? When I appointed my son as the Minister of Finance, everyone gave face and didn’t object. So, it was settled – my son took the office. Isn’t that good enough? I was persuaded by my wife to let him take a position he liked, to gain some experience. So why did you have to ruin this for me?”
Osborne’s gaze dimmed as he muttered, “Your Grace, you naturally have the right to appoint whomever you wish. It’s just that I couldn’t let go of my resentment.”
Realizing the crux of the matter, the Duke saw that Osborne was still stuck in his ways after all the talk.
He said to Osborne, “You are a baron. If you want to leave, pay a ransom of 50 gold coins, and I’ll release you.”
Osborne agreed, signed the document, and instructed his realm’s Minister of Foreign Affairs to bring the money for his release.
The Duke, having lost any further interest in the matter, was confronted with the difficult case of Osborne – a man who understood everything yet couldn’t let go of his pride.
Moreover, Osborne’s financial acumen was indeed the highest among the Duke’s vassals.
The Duke still harbored the thought of possibly calling on Osborne again if financial troubles arose, so he showed considerable leniency towards him.
After negotiations, Osborne paid the required sum, and Ferald had the prison doors opened, granting Osborne his freedom.
As for Ferald’s son Lanvin, Ferald decided to no longer intervene.
Recently, Ferald’s wife had learned about their son losing his position and had been constantly complaining and taunting Ferald, adding to his mental burden.
Being Mibo’s brother, Ferald, despite his own ambitions, couldn’t escape the constraints of age.
Although he still possessed the passion of a younger man, the recent domestic troubles had left him overwhelmed and weary.
Initially, Ferald had plans to support his brother Mibo in declaring war against Howard to reclaim the Earl of Nok’s lands.
However, these plans were sidetracked by the mundane and chaotic events in his personal life, and gradually, he lost the drive to pursue them.
As for Mibo, the idea of confronting Howard seemed even more unfeasible.
Holding onto his excessively high titles, he lived in constant anxiety.
On Howard’s side, thanks to the meticulous calculations of Bosiden and Vettel, a conclusion was drawn: Mibo’s economy was suffering due to his overreaching titles, while Howard’s titles were well within limits, and his vassal structure was intact, making everything favorable for him.
The stalemate between the two was expected to last for a couple of months, after which Mibo’s economy was predicted to collapse.
Howard, on the other hand, could anticipate an income of three to four hundred gold coins, enough to defeat Mibo using mercenaries without mobilizing a conscript army.
Howard nodded, content with this assessment.
As he awaited his wedding day with Catherine, he saw no harm in waiting for Mibo’s situation to unfold as well.
It seemed like a manageable wait with an end in sight, and not particularly challenging.
Mibo, in his foolishness, was heading towards his own downfall, while Howard, ever so astute, held the winning cards in his hand.
Thus, the days passed.
Howard sometimes visited Flandre, at other times practiced swordsmanship with Margaret and Resarite, and occasionally worked on his equestrian skills with Golan.
Every now and then, when Anna visited Fernsouth Castle, they would engage in long conversations.
Like this, two and a half months swiftly elapsed.
Feeling that the time was right, Howard instructed Bosiden to make inquiries with some nearby mercenary leaders to gauge their rates.
Bosiden asked, “If the price is right, should I pay a deposit on the spot?”
Howard shook his head, “No, that’s not necessary. This time, I’m just interested in understanding the market, not in actually negotiating a contract. I’m somewhat reluctant to spend money on these costly mercenaries. I have a plan in mind. I’m considering expanding and refurbishing the barracks at Fernsouth Castle, and that’s where the three hundred plus gold coins will be put to good use.”
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