pdf-ebookys #512 - Some have strength and means
#512 - Some have strength and means
Lying in bed, Horn had been staring at the floral canopy above him for almost ten minutes.
This was his habit every morning upon waking, to recall and review his recent gains and losses.
A week had passed since Ludwick's departure, and if everything went according to plan, they should be on a ship to Kasha County by now.
If things went even more smoothly, their internal vote could be completed before the New Year's Festival.
Martin, as the contact person, upon receiving Ludwick's autograph, could sign the 'Holy Axis Agreement' as a fully authorized representative.
I wonder how the Thousand River Valley Church will react.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and flicking it away, Horn turned and got out of bed.
The brick walls were fitted with wooden panels, and a heavy walnut wardrobe stood near the bed, with a layer of wavy, streamlined carved tiles along the baseboards.
This was Horn's residence in Jeanne d'Arc, originally Duke Kush's private villa for trysts with his mistress.
Later, after the Salvation Army renovated it and added a series of convenient facilities, it became Horn's residence.
Barefoot on the carpet, Horn went to the window and turned on the faucet embedded in the wall.
The water flowed down with a gurgling sound, and he splashed a handful on his face, dispelling the remaining sleepiness.
This time last year, he was still washing his face with cold water from a stream.
But now, he could stand on a warm carpet and wash up in front of a marble washbasin.
However, these brass pipes were not some clockwork high-tech; there was no running water, it all relied on manual labor.
Horn installed a water tank on the third floor, and the military police used pulleys to lift water up every day and pour it into the tank.
Then, they added water purification agents and slime gel to disinfect and coagulate the sediment, creating this modern 'running water' system.
After drying his face and putting on his clothes and shoes, Horn opened the bedroom door.
"Mmm~"
As soon as the door opened, a gust of cold air carrying a charming and lazy hum brushed past Horn's face.
In the hallway, Catherine was yawning, her crimson mouth wide open.
Wearing a silk nightgown that reached her calves, her hands were interlaced and stretched straight behind her head, her slender white fingers bringing up a few strands of wine-red, curly hair.
Due to arching her back, Catherine's chest revealed a distinct curve, the nightgown stretched tightly against her body, as if something was about to burst out of it in the next second.
Because of those two mounds of flesh, the hem of the nightgown was even pulled up to her knees.
"Good morning."
Catherine leaned forward, almost falling down the stairs.
Horn quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her over: "Watch where you're going, you look like you haven't woken up yet."
"Why are you up so early today?" Hastily pulling the clothes stuck below her south hemisphere smooth, the tips of Catherine's ears faintly turned pink.
"It's like you know when I usually get up," Horn said with a smile, "I usually get up around this time, you're an old woman, I understand you need more sleep."
"Old woman?!" Staring wide-eyed, blue veins popped out on Catherine's forehead, she bit her lip, forcibly suppressing her anger.
Anyway, it's the last day! The last day...
Unlike the Horn siblings, Catherine loved to sleep in, waking up at nine or ten o'clock every day.
She woke up at just after six o'clock today because she had finished her training and political observation in the Papal State and was about to return to Rapid Water City with a group of subordinates.
And the departure date was today at noon.
She would return with the first batch of barges transporting supplies.
Fourteen inland barges were already stationed on the Jeanne d'Arc Canal, fully loaded with nearly 300 tons of mortar, grain, stone bricks, and timber.
This number of barges was far from enough.
So Horn placed orders for shipbuilding in both Small Pond City and Rapid Water City, totaling 36 inland barges with a displacement of 30-50 tons each, costing a total of 5,200 gold pounds.
Jeanne d'Arc had no dockyards, no shipbuilding guilds, or related technology, so it could only import from outside.
The Ibe River and Naoan River waterways of the future would be full of merchant ships carrying grain, building materials, and sugar.
With such convenient river conditions and such extensive waterways, it was unreasonable for Thousand River Valley to be so poor.
Horn even considered whether to widen the river and divert some water from the Great Marsh.
Holding the carved staircase railing and walking downstairs with his head down, Horn didn't notice the increasingly complex look in Catherine's eyes behind him.
Before even reaching the first floor, Horn smelled the rich aroma of food in the air.
Coming down the stairs was the dining room on the first floor, where Al and several child soldiers were setting the table.
Since the Duke's utensils were either sold to exchange for military pay or put away for banquets, even Horn was using earthenware bowls and tin plates.
"It smells so good, what are you guys making?" As soon as he came down the stairs, Horn smelled the aroma and turned a corner, drilling into the kitchen on the other side.
Next to the dining room on the first floor, Horn had torn down the walls and replaced them with mortar stone pillars, creating an open kitchen.
A kettle was bubbling with hot water on the fireplace, releasing an enticing fragrance from the earthenware pot, while Jeanne, wearing a triangular scarf, was busy with several child soldiers.
Jeanne had now returned from practicing breathing techniques and horsemanship, and even had time to take a bath.
"Canned hash, fried meat patties, and oh, rice fruit potato porridge, your invention," Jeanne said without looking up as she flipped the meat patties.
"Is there anything I can do?" Standing in the middle of the kitchen with his stomach sticking out, Horn picked up a spatula, "Let me help you."
"Are you sure?" Jeanne glanced at him, "Then pour the chopped celery into the stew, I can't spare a hand."
Coming to the stove and looking at the identical green pieces in two plates, Horn fell into contemplation.
"Can you tell which one it is?"
Horn pondered for half a second, pointing to one of them: "This one?"
Catherine next to him couldn't stand it anymore, took off an apron from the wall, and poured the other plate of chopped vegetables into the pot: "Let me help you."
"I originally wanted to choose this one, but hesitated at the last second," Horn shook his head in annoyance, turned around, and returned to the dining room.
But he had just left the kitchen door when he turned back: "Get along well, it's the last day, don't fight."
The newest novel is first published on Six/Nine/Book/Bar!
"Got it."
"Don't worry."
The two replied in unison, and then began to divide the work.
"Is the fire under the pot too high?"
"Not at all, it's just right like this."
Although it was just a normal conversation, the other child soldiers in the kitchen felt a chill run down their spines.
"Hand me the butter."
"Okay, do you need honey?"
"No."
"No honey... alright."
"This is porridge, it doesn't need honey, why don't you add cheese to it."
"I'm just saying, don't get so angry." Putting down the honey pot, Catherine raised her hands, still wearing an elegant and amiable smile on her face.
Jeanne snorted and opened the canned hash to smell it: "Alright, it can be heated up for lunch and dinner... are you going to express some kind of young lady opinion again?"
"I didn't say anything."
"I felt it from your eyes."
"That's ridiculous, are you Moriarty?"
"What Moriarty?" Jeanne frowned.
Knowing that she had let slip her good friend's magic, Catherine cleared her throat and quickly changed the subject: "I don't understand, there isn't that much conflict between us, right? Why do we have to be at each other's throats?"
"You started it."
"When I first met you, I was very friendly, we are both witches, I can't figure out why you wanted to exclude me from the start?"
"Because you always do this, and this."
Looking at Jeanne awkwardly imitating her movements, Catherine first frowned in thought, then couldn't help but laugh: "...Ah, I understand, you think I'm seducing your lord?"
A flush rose on Jeanne's face, but she still stubbornly retorted: "It has nothing to do with my brother, I just can't stand your young lady airs."
"That wolf girl has even more young lady airs than me, how come I don't see you hating her?"
Jeanne didn't speak, just stirred the beef and mutton hash in the earthenware pot.
Compared to the clever old aunt Catherine, the seventeen-year-old Jeanne, although she could already look down on the battlefield and had a "beast-like mind and wisdom" (Horn's comment).
From a personal emotional point of view, she was still as pure as ever, and even had a bit of a naive girl's flavor.
She actually felt something was wrong from her intuition, but if you really asked her for a reason, she couldn't say it.
"I value our friendly relationship very much, witches can't have internal friction, at least for now, I don't have any interest in your brother." It was the last day, Catherine decided to solve this problem, she took Jeanne's hand and said proactively.
"...Really?"
"Otherwise, to prove it, I'll teach you some tricks." Looking at Jeanne's clear eyes, a bad idea couldn't help but rise in Catherine's heart, "I guarantee you'll get a hold of him, how about it?"
"What tricks?"
Picking up the honey pot next to her, Catherine smiled evilly, leaned close to Jeanne's ear, and quickly spat out a string of words.
Jeanne's face flushed red: "Shameless! I won't... shameless!"
After scolding this sentence, she turned around and stirred the potato rice fruit porridge vigorously.