Since there was no teleportation portal in the town we were staying in, we had no choice but to travel to my county on foot or rather, by carriage. After all, portals were typically found only in major cities, and the closest one to us was located in my own Argenholt County. So, after purchasing a carriage from the town, we set off. Most of the group didn't have horses, so I also had to buy additional mounts and wheeled wagons to carry supplies. I hadn't bought individual carriages for everyone, not because I was too stingy, but because the town simply didn't have that many horses. And since I couldn't exactly have Willabelle's entire group walk all the way to my domain, wagons were the only viable option.
Once everything was in order, we hit the road, leaving the town behind and quickly entering the dirt paths of the countryside. Naturally, Willabelle traveled inside the carriage with me. The protagonist of the original novel, her son, Magnus, was resting his head quietly on her lap, fast asleep.
Willabelle, however, seemed unusually shy. I suspected it was because it was the first time she found herself alone with me in a closed space. It wasn't the kind of shyness that came from embarrassment, but rather from uncertainty, like someone unsure of what to do or say. To prevent the atmosphere from growing any more awkward, I decided to break the silence.
"Do you have any plans in mind once we arrive in my county?"
Willabelle paused for a moment, then looked me directly in the eyes.
"I assumed that would be up to your discretion."
Her voice was as soft as ever, but it carried a trace of tension. Though her words sounded obedient, there was something else behind her gaze. A hidden intent I couldn't quite decipher or perhaps an expectation she hadn't yet voiced.
I turned to look out the carriage window. Leafless trees lined the roadside, the occasional stone fence passed by, and misty hills loomed in the distance… It was all quite bleak, but the turmoil inside me was no less somber.
"My discretion, is it?" I asked, a faint trace of irony in my voice, though I spoke gently. "So you're leaving all the decision-making to me?"
She glanced down at Magnus, sleeping peacefully on her lap, and gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. Then she looked back at me and, without raising her voice too much, spoke again.
"No, not exactly," she said quickly. "It's just that… I still don't know what I should be doing. And while I'm under your protection, I'd rather not make a misstep."
I was quiet for a moment. Then, lowering my voice as well, I replied.
"Actually, I do have something in mind for you. You led a group of very different people. That suggests you're capable of leadership."
Willabelle lowered her head slightly. I could see the weight of the responsibility settling on her features. She had just been praised for something she clearly took pride in, but at the same time, she was facing an offer that carried its own burden. For someone still trying to find her place or perhaps even her identity, such responsibility wouldn't be easy to accept.
"I only tried to keep us alive," she murmured, her lips parting slightly. "That't not really leadership."
"They followed you," I said firmly. "They moved according to your decisions, stood by your side. If that's not leadership, then what is it? Just titles and formality?"
Her eyes drifted toward the window. Cracked stones and frozen puddles passed by along the roadside. When she looked back at me, there was less hesitation in her gaze and more thoughtfulness.
"What exactly are you proposing?" she asked, using that formal tone she'd adopted ever since learning I was a noble.
The moment our eyes met, I realized we were standing at the edge of a decision. There was no longer any need for vague conversation.
"I plan to expand Argenholt County," I said quietly but with conviction. "And expansion demands order. People, decisions, resources… all of that requires coordination. I can't be everywhere at once."
She listened intently. She could hear the seriousness in my tone. This wasn't small talk. It was the beginning of a real offer.
"Yes, I'm a count. But even a count needs a right hand. Someone who moves like his shadow, who keeps things running even in his absence. I've made up my mind about you, Willabelle. I want you to become my chief aide."
The air inside the carriage grew heavier for a moment. It felt as if time briefly froze, as if even breathing would be too loud. Willabelle's eyes widened, emotions flashing across her face: surprise, fear, gratitude, hesitation all at once.
"Your chief aide?" she echoed, almost in a whisper.
I nodded slowly, holding her gaze.
"You didn't just keep people alive. You brought them together. You imposed order on chaos. You may not see it, but I do. My county is full of voices, needs, desires, ambitions-Just like any other county. I need someone who can unify them. A powerful ally. Someone clever, careful, and balanced."
Her eyes wavered, thoughts churning behind them. She looked down at Magnus again, still sleeping peacefully. Then she met my gaze once more.
"If I accept… will I be able to speak my mind, even when I disagree with you?" she asked.
This time, her voice no longer belonged to a mere follower. It belonged to someone beginning to carry the weight of her own thoughts.
I smiled slightly.
"If all you ever do is say yes, then choosing you would've been meaningless. I want you beside me, not behind me."
Willabelle bowed her head slightly. Her fingers ran through Magnus's hair as she took a deep breath. When she raised her gaze again, there was determination in her eyes. The inner storm had passed. Her thoughts were clear.
"Then… I accept the role, Count Leonardo," she said formally, but with a graceful warmth.
I gave a small nod. "Welcome aboard, my aide."
____________
As the wind outside brushed past the bare trees, the first stones of a new order were quietly being laid within the carriage.
After nearly three days of travel, we finally arrived at my domain, the city of Argenholt. It dawned on me then that I hadn't properly examined the city or its outlying regions before. As I looked through the window of the carriage, the broad silhouette of Argenholt emerged from the mist.
Strategically located in a valley where three major rivers converged, Argenholt sat at the crossroads of commerce, military logistics, and clandestine whispers. Merchants arrived from the east, military caravans descended from the north, and smugglers and spies filtered in from the west. Snow-capped mountains loomed in the north, while fertile farmlands sprawled to the south. The city was not only a hub of trade but also a point of political significance.
With a population of roughly one hundred thousand, it was large for a county capital. And it wasn't just farmers, craftsmen, or soldiers who lived here. Argenholt was home to mages, adventurers, and even exiled nobles. The city teetered on the edge of class conflict, yet it somehow maintained a fragile balance. One that forced everyone to coexist. Thick city walls kept external threats at bay, while within, people carved out their own rhythms.
The architecture reflected the city's chaos. Towering buildings along the main streets bore Gothic elements: pointed spires, stained glass windows, intricate stonework. These were often owned by old nobility or guild masters. But down the narrow alleys, the structures were simpler, more utilitarian. Wooden roofs, crumbling plaster, windowless facades… Wealth and poverty lived side by side in a strange equilibrium.
In the far rear of the city stood the estate grounds of the County Manor, the heart of Argenholt, its central nervous system. Built atop the ruins of a colossal ancient kingdom structure, it was both imposing and awe-inspiring with its dark stone walls.
As we approached the main square, the city's pulse began to reach us. Merchant bells rang, children played on street corners, and soldiers patrolled the streets with the metallic clink of armor. Yet despite the energy, an undercurrent of tension lingered. This season, following the long winter, could bring either abundance or scarcity, and people knew it. Their eyes were watchful, their bargaining cautious.
The carriage moved slowly through the crowd. Willabelle remained silent, while Magnus had awakened and was rubbing his eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Willabelle, too, was gazing out with interest at her new city. I had never been good at reading her face, but now, with her lips curled into a faint smile and a subtle glimmer in her white eyes, I could finally guess what she was feeling.
I think… she was going to like her new home.