Lila knelt in the half-frozen mud of the lower eastern fields the next morning, her gloves soaked through as she helped the workers reinforce a damaged irrigation ditch.
The late winter thaw had come early this year, turning the ground into a slick mess that threatened the newly planted seed beds. Waterlogged soil squelched under her boots, the cold seeping through her leathers.
A group of farmers and apprentices worked beside her, their faces flushed from exertion despite the biting wind.
One of the older farmers, a man named Harald with calloused hands and a scar across his cheek from the corruption days, straightened up and wiped sweat from his brow.
"With all due respect, you don't have to be out here in the mud with us, my queen. This is work for hands like mine. Please leave it to us to do."
