The large window in the study was open, and the wind blew in from the snow-melted mountains, carrying the scent of earth and lingering snow.
Louis, draped in a deep blue cloak, sat on the wooden chair in the middle of the meeting room.
Before him was no high-backed throne, only a round table covered with a linen tablecloth, the fire casting a soft glow on the side of his face.
This was the seventh visitor seeking funding in these two days.
An elderly Lord with graying hair and a stooped posture.
He had originally served as a steward in Frost Halberd City, but because his distant relative had frozen to death in winter, he was pulled in to be a so-called Baron.
But he was completely clueless, and seeing the remaining populace in a pitiable state, had no choice but to seek Louis' assistance.
With trembling hands, he took the territory map, damp with sweat, from his attendant and offered it with both hands, saying in a low voice:
