Inside the wing room of the East Tower, although it was somewhat deserted, it had been cleaned until it was exceptionally tidy.
Delilah lay on the bed, a faint, clean scent lingering around her nose, like the extract of some flower or herb.
This was definitely not a smell an ordinary infirmary would have.
Not long ago, a doctor with a stern expression carrying a wooden chest had conducted a detailed examination of her, even leaving behind a small bottle of transparent 'disinfectant' with a pungent smell.
And by her pillow, that small piece of neatly sliced Black Bread and a small bowl of rich vegetable soup plunged her into a long silence.
"No torture, no secret interrogation, not even a single superfluous question."
Delilah propped her body up and sat, her gaze passing through the window to look at the musketeers patrolling not far away.
Those soldiers held pitch-black long tubes in their arms, their eyes as sharp as eagles.
"Is she playing 'psychological tactics'?
Deliberately using superior conditions to soften my will, making me feel she isn't the Tyrant from the rumors?"
Delilah let out a cold laugh, threw her head back, and drained the bowl of medicinal broth in one gulp.
The bitter taste spread across the tip of her tongue, and she felt a warm strength flowing through her limbs and bones; this was indeed excellent medicine for injuries.
Two days later, Delilah had 'recovered'.
She proposed to the guards that she wanted to meet that Queen who had saved her.
In the side hall of the Palace, Sophia was sitting on that slightly oversized mahogany chair, staring expressionlessly at a gold coin in her hand, lost in a daze.
She was settling accounts.
Converting the supplies captured from the bandit suppression, she could add meals for the soldiers for another two months.
If there was still no movement on Irene's seeds, they would all have to go back to gnawing on Black Bread.
At this moment, Victor walked in leading Delilah.
Delilah had changed into a clean linen shirt and slim-fitting trousers; her superior long legs made it look as if she were wearing something uniquely designed.
Her red long hair was tied high, and that dashing temperament unique to high-ranking warriors was hard to hide even under coarse clothing.
She knelt on one knee, bowing her head low, yet her line of sight was quietly sizing up the Tyrant in the seat of honor.
Sophia's face remained like a frozen lake, her pale golden eyes so indifferent they were suffocating.
"Delilah, from Olan."
Delilah spoke slowly, her voice cool and firm.
"I once served the Royal House of Olan, but that monarch was cruel and incompetent, viewing soldiers as grass.
Unwilling to associate with such filth, I departed. While wandering the border, I unfortunately encountered rogue bandits. Many thanks to Your Majesty for saving me."
This speech was half true and half false; the King of Olan was indeed incompetent.
But the fact that she was One who had been reborn, she intended to take to her grave.
"Then what are your plans for the future?"
Sophia rested her chin on her hand, her tone completely flat.
There was absolutely no meaning of seeing beauty and wanting to keep this person.
Delilah raised her head, looking straight into Sophia's eyes.
"I was once a high-ranking swordswoman.
If Your Majesty does not disdain it, I wish to be the sharp blade in your hand.
I will prove that my value is far higher than this one meal."
Sophia turned her head slightly, looking at Victor by her side.
"Let her try. Pick someone."
"Three."
Delilah said.
Victor received Sophia's signal of agreement, so he called for people.
Three burly Close Guard infantrymen equipped with short swords walked out.
The looks they cast at Delilah carried a bit of disdain.
Although Delilah's height and physique were extremely superior among women—or rather, in the Kingdom of Mason, there were few women taller or with more martial temperament than Delilah—there was still a gap in physique.
However, the battle began abruptly and ended even faster.
Delilah didn't even draw the sword at her waist; relying merely on two wooden sticks, her figure swept past like a thunderclap.
Bang, bang, bang!
Three muffled sounds.
The three soldiers hadn't even reacted to what had happened before they were clutching their wrists and knees, falling to the ground in pain.
Meanwhile, Delilah had already composedly retracted her stance, standing before Sophia.
"Is that enough?"
Delilah asked.
Sophia was indeed startled.
So fast!
This is simply a special effect with built-in speed-up and frame interpolation!
With her, isn't the problem of my three hundred musketeers getting their backline cut in melee combat solved?
But in Delilah's eyes, this Queen didn't even move an eyebrow.
As if such shocking martial arts were nothing but a child's trick in her eyes.
"Barely sufficient."
Sophia nodded coolly.
"Victor, arrange a position for her as Vice-Captain of the Royal Guards. From now on, you are responsible for 'guarding' by my carriage."
It wasn't that Sophia easily trusted this 'wild woman' of unknown origin.
It was that she really had no other moves.
These three soldiers were the tallest and strongest among her three hundred troops.
She had knocked them all down in a flash; if she really wanted to plot against Sophia, she probably would have sneaked into her room the previous two nights.
"Yes."
Delilah bowed her head in assent, also somewhat puzzled by the Tyrant's behavior of keeping her so easily.
On the other side, the West Tower.
Irene was in a state of 'grinding progress' that bordered on madness.
In order not to let Sophia cut her funding, she had shut herself in the greenhouse and laboratory and hadn't washed her hair for three whole days.
Her smooth pink bun had turned into a little chicken coop.
"Success!
Your Majesty!
It's really a success!"
Irene rushed into Sophia's study like the wind, with the maidservant Willow trotting behind her in pursuit. Willow had intended to say Her Majesty the Queen was resting, but who knew Miss Irene would be so excited she couldn't even be stopped.
Sophia waved her hand at the helpless-looking Willow, then looked at the two items Irene was holding in her hands.
A packet of dusty-looking powder, and a pot of wheat seedlings that had already sprouted tender green shoots.
"This is the 'Mason Type I Fertilizer' and 'Mason Type I Improved Seeds' that I developed."
Irene pointed excitedly at the data.
Irene had utilized the most primitive 'artificial selection method'.
And under the guidance of the hybridization principles in Irene's memories from her past life, she conducted germination screening on the confiscated high-quality wheat seeds.
She eliminated all individuals with unplump grains and weak disease resistance, retaining only the most vital 'parent stock'.
She also used the trace wood vinegar distilled by Irene for soaking, which could kill attached insect eggs and mold, as well as stimulate the early growth of the seedlings.
The germination rate of these seeds, which had undergone 'Secret Arts enhancement', skyrocketed directly from the original 40% to 95%.
Then Irene pointed to the records under the title 'Regarding the Preparation of Primary Fertilizers' in the record column.
This was Irene's proudest work, and also the smelliest thing in Sophia's eyes.
Nitrogen Source (N): Derived from a large amount of decomposed poultry and livestock manure collected from the rogue bandit camp, releasing nitrogen elements after composting and fermentation.
Phosphorus Source (P): Irene burned the confiscated waste crushed bones into bone ash at high temperatures, then treated them with extremely dilute acid to create simple calcium superphosphate.
Potassium Source (K): The most widely available source; she directly extracted potassium carbonate from pure wood and grass ash after smoldering willow wood.
"Your Majesty, look!"
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