When they entered the dining room, Mirella was already waiting.
Dinner had been laid out on the long wooden table.
Bread.
Vegetables.
A piece of meat.
And a bowl of hot soup whose fragrant steam curled into the air.
After eating a few bites, she set down her knife and fork.
"Grandma Mirella," she said.
Mirella looked up immediately. "Yes, Young Miss?"
Sienna folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. "I've been thinking. Tomorrow, we should not improve the black soil near the castle."
Mirella blinked.
For a moment, she did not understand. Then concern flashed across her face. "Why does Young Miss say that? If we do not improve the land, then what shall we do?"
Sienna shook her head. "You misunderstand me."
She leaned back slightly, her fingers interlaced before her. "The land must be improved. But not here."
