"Mn."
Sophia nodded slightly.
Alright, praise delivered. Better hurry and let her go rest.
She looks absolutely exhausted.
Sophia had never seen Delilah so tired that even her voice trembled.
And covered in all that dust... it's enough to trigger a cleanliness compulsion even in someone like me who doesn't have one.
"Go and rest."
Sophia turned around, putting her back to Delilah, and waved her right hand.
"Willow has already prepared hot water and clean clothes.
"Do not let fatigue dull my sharp blade. The Kingdom of Mason has much need of you in the days to come."
"Yes. Your subordinate takes her leave."
Delilah took a deep breath, stood up, and executed a crisp military salute. She then turned and walked toward the door.
Just as she was about to step over the threshold, Willow, who had been standing to the side wearing a doting smile the entire time, suddenly leaned in playfully.
"It seems Leader Delilah is in a very good mood after being praised by Her Majesty," Willow whispered, her tone full of teasing.
"Usually, you walk as heavily as a block of iron, Leader Delilah. But those steps just now? To this servant, you looked light enough to fly."
Delilah's body stiffened instantly.
Those footsteps, which had involuntarily become somewhat light—perhaps even a bit 'joyful'—froze in that split second.
A flash of embarrassment and annoyance quickly crossed her heroic, mature face.
Light?
Me?
Impossible!
She immediately took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the little flame flickering in her heart, and tensed her face back into that solemn expression.
Then, she deliberately put weight into her steps, stomping on the stone slabs with heavy thud, thud sounds. Like the most steady stone statue, she walked out without looking sideways.
That retreating figure looked as steady as steady could be, as solemn as solemn could be.
However, following behind her, Willow quietly covered her mouth, laughing until tears nearly came out.
Leader Delilah's clumsy attempt to hide the obvious is truly just as cute as Her Majesty.
Inside the Bedchamber, Sophia tilted her head in confusion as she listened to the heavy footsteps outside the door.
"Willow, why is she suddenly walking so loudly?"
Could it be that she disliked my praise for being too simple, and is now harboring dissatisfaction?
Sophia sighed with some worry. Honestly, being a Queen is so tiring. Even the proper degree of praise is so hard to grasp.
Passing through the long stone corridors of the Palace, the first thing that came into view were the heavily laden carts parked in the central courtyard.
Victor was leading dozens of soldiers to inventory the supplies. The rolls of high-quality cured leather emitting a leathery fragrance, and the neatly stacked raw iron ingots gleaming with a cold luster, reflected a reassuring sense of wealth under the setting sun.
"Your Majesty!"
Seeing Sophia approach, Victor hurriedly bowed. His face, originally slightly weary from overwork, was now written full of fanaticism.
"The texture of these leathers is excellent. With just a little processing, they can provide the best padded leather armor for the guards.
"And this raw iron—according to Miss Irene, this is enough to support our Palace's iron consumption for the next three months!"
Sophia looked expressionlessly at the boxes of iron ingots, her gaze lingering for a moment on the rough but thick leather.
Great, this leather looks to be of good quality.
With this batch of leather and raw iron, many troubles can be solved.
Although this wool isn't useful right now, it will be very useful when winter comes.
Sophia's thoughts spun rapidly, but on her face, she only gave a reserved, slight nod. Her cold voice was like the wind sweeping over accumulated snow:
"Store it well.
"Every piece of iron, every inch of leather, must be used where it matters most.
"Mason raises no idlers, nor does it keep trash."
"As you command!
"This old servant will guard the National Treasury with his life and will never let these treasures gather dust!"
Victor kowtowed heavily. To his ears, this was His Majesty's highest spur regarding his ability to manage the household.
After inspecting these supplies, Sophia turned her steps toward the West Tower.
Before she even got close to the West Tower, Sophia heard bursts of low "Moo—" sounds.
In the open ground to the side of the West Tower, next to the two fields Irene had originally fenced off and planted with experimental wheat seedlings, a simple, temporary cow shed had actually been added.
Sophia stopped, her pale golden pupils widening slightly.
Those clusters of lush green seedlings swayed in the breeze, full of vitality.
And beside them, two robust Leighton dairy cows were standing peacefully, their long tails occasionally sweeping across their rumps to drive away nonexistent insects.
Looking at this scene, Sophia felt a mix of emotions for a moment.
Growing grain on the left, raising cows on the right.
Walking further back, the West Tower houses an inventor who causes 'alchemy explosions' all day, along with a few bratty assistants.
My Palace... no matter how I look at it, is becoming more and more like a large comprehensive agricultural breeding farm.
Sophia's mind conjured images of those luxurious modern palaces from her past life, then looked at her own back garden filled with the 'fragrance of soil'.
However, this feeling actually isn't bad.
Compared to those cold gems, this vitality that can actually grow bread and produce milk is the security a Queen who wants to live a good life needs most.
Looking at this 'wealth' that had traveled from afar, Sophia's originally cold and hard corners of her mouth seemed to soften imperceptibly.
Of course, in the eyes of the soldiers and Valery watching from a distance, that was the Tyrant scrutinizing a 'strategic weapon' about to be put into use.
"Your Majesty, look."
Willow grabbed a handful of fresh, tender grass from the fodder basket nearby and handed it to Sophia.
"These two cows are very docile. The Leighton people said that as long as they are fed well, they can produce quite a lot of fresh milk every day."
Sophia took the fodder, which emitted the fresh scent of grass, and slowly walked up to the cow shed.
One of the cows seemed to sense Sophia's gaze. Its large nose twitched, and it actually leaned in on its own initiative, spraying warm breath onto Sophia's fair fingers.
Sophia's face remained unchanged, but inside, she was screaming.
Wah! Its tongue is so long!
So rough!
Wait... it's licking me!
She handed the grass to the cow's mouth.
The cow's tongue curled, eating with relish and making satisfied chewing sounds.
"Very good."
Sophia retracted her hand, calmly wiped her fingertips, and gazed deeply at the cow eating the grass.
"Willow, instruct the feeders to pay attention.
"These two cows are one of the hopes of the Kingdom of Mason.
"From today on, aside from you and Irene, no unauthorized persons are allowed to approach this place.
"If anything happens to the cows, not only will the feeder forfeit their life, but they can forget about the lives of their clan as well."
This murderous command made everyone present tremble with fear.
Valery, watching from the side, felt cold sweat soaking his back.
His Majesty actually fed the cow personally! These are definitely no ordinary livestock!
The 'hope' His Majesty speaks of must refer to some alchemy code hidden within this creature that can change the destiny of the nation!
These two cows might bring new hope to the Kingdom.
Sophia turned and left after her voice faded.
In the eyes of these people, she was still that moody, unfathomable Tyrant.
I wonder when there will be milk?
Sophia walked with elegant strides, but in her mind, she was already outlining how to have Irene use the raw iron to make a simple mixer to make small cakes for her.
________________________________________
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