TOYLCG 22 🍒

Chapter — 22

As Rosebel walked along the narrow path, she noticed something familiar—a long, deep trench that ran tightly along the way.

Anyone could tell at a glance that it was an irrigation channel.

“Oh? Isn’t this a waterway?” she asked.

“Yes. To water the fields, it’s best if the channel runs straight through them,” Daniel replied. “It makes irrigation easier and also helps store water.”

Daniel spoke excitedly, explaining one thing after another. As Rosebel listened, memories from her past life—when she had farmed rice paddies—came back to her.

To flood rice fields, there had been pits where water was gathered. People in that area had called them dumbung. Rainwater would collect there and then be used to water the paddies.

“Then there must be a place where the water gathers!” she said.

“Yes. But that area is dangerous, so we don’t let anyone go near it except the workers in charge.”

“So you even provide safety training?” Rosebel asked.

“Yes. Accidents can happen anywhere.”

Hearing such a systematic answer made Rosebel fall silent in thought. She had only focused on protecting her orchard and growing apples. She had never really thought about the safety of the people working there.

“Listening to you, Daniel, gives me a lot to think about,” she said.

“Pardon?”

“I only cared about growing apples well.”

“Ah… I was the same. I kept thinking about how to grow barley and wheat better, and before I knew it, I’d gone this far.”

“That’s impressive.”

At her praise, Daniel scratched the back of his head shyly. Perhaps it was because no one had ever evaluated his work before.

He felt grateful to Rosebel, who praised every detail of his efforts and tried to learn from them. He had never imagined that someone else would acknowledge that his hard work had not been in vain.

“Other than my father, this is the first time someone has recognized what I do. I feel a bit embarrassed,” he admitted.

“That’s only natural! You absolutely deserve recognition. You’re doing an excellent job as a manager!”

Rosebel herself had never really been praised for doing her duties well.

Those were memories from her past life, but they were not pleasant ones. There were always people who chipped away at others’ self-esteem.

It was common in modern society, and those who endured it were either called admirable—or simply harsh and cold people.

“You’ll do even better from now on! So, when will this barley start forming grains?” she asked brightly.

“Huh?”

“When the grains form, they’ll be soft, right? If you lightly roast them, peel the husk, and toss them into your mouth, they’re delicious!”

Just imagining it made Rosebel beam with happiness. Her mouth watered, and without realizing it, she swallowed loudly.

The sound was so clear that the two men struggled to hold back their laughter. Whether they laughed or not, Rosebel was busy imagining herself crushing the husks with both hands and chewing on ripe barley grains.

“You seem very serious about food, Lady Countess,” Daniel said.

“She… does have that side to her,” Aren added.

“That sounds fun.”

“…What?”

Aren was startled that Daniel, who had barely glanced at him before, suddenly spoke to him.

“The person you serve seems bright, responsible, and she doesn’t treat those who work with her as inferiors. I liked seeing that.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve never met anyone like her either. The young count reminds me of her a little. At least, that’s how it looks to me.”

“Lady Countess is very cheerful, though.”

“It’s not about personality. It’s the way you respect others—it’s similar. And the fact that you wear clothes others might hesitate to wear, and even put on a bonnet, makes you seem like a warm person.”

Daniel had always known how important the environment was—but only when it came to farming, not people.

Because of these two, he felt that he himself might change a great deal.

Rosebel had confidently declared that she would learn diligently, but within a few days, she was already shouting in frustration.

“No! Why do weeds grow this fast?!”

“Haha, that’s just how weeds are,” Daniel replied calmly.

At some point, Daniel had mastered the skill of letting Rosebel’s complaints go in one ear and out the other. Aren, from the beginning, simply worked in silence as if he couldn’t hear her at all.

“This is all because the land is so wide… If only there were lawn mowers or herbicides, they’d all be wiped out…”

Cutting weeds with a sickle wasn’t a real solution, but since there were no herbicides in this era, brute labor was the only option.

“What are you muttering to yourself about?” Aren asked.

“Oh, nothing… I was just wondering if there’s some kind of medicine that kills weeds instantly.”

“Even if there were, would you really use it? It would affect the crops too, wouldn’t it?”

“Ah…”

At Aren’s unexpected remark, Rosebel shut her mouth tightly. You couldn’t completely prevent pests and diseases, but she herself had searched for other methods.

Wasn’t wheat bran and straw one such example?

“It feels like I just got hit on the head,” she muttered.

“Really? You seem a bit tense lately.”

“Do I…? Something feels uncomfortable.”

Since coming here, she had grown close to Daniel and had also become comfortable around Count Demetra.

But at some point, a discomfort began around her solar plexus. It hurt badly enough at times that she even suspected an ulcer, not just a mana circulation issue.

“Is the work too hard?” Aren asked.

“No… it’s not the work. My chest—right here—hurts a lot.”

“Is your mana circulation unstable?”

Aren frowned as he watched her in discomfort. He hoped she wasn’t in pain and promised himself he would protect her. But this was something he couldn’t fix.

Handling mana was entirely up to the individual. She was training, but it wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the duke’s estate.

On top of that, the flow of wind subtly seemed to wrap around Rosebel, as if it were frustrated that she didn’t notice something.

He had noticed this for quite some time. But he himself was confused and couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her.

He felt that he needed a clear trigger before speaking.

“Rosebel, have you summoned a gnome or an ifrit lately?” he asked.

He thought this was the best way to confirm his suspicion.

“You need more than one set of eyes to do that. How could I summon them?” she replied.

Aren nodded. No matter how comfortable things had become, the people here were still outsiders.

There was no need to reveal too much to them.

Rosebel acted overly bright at times, but she was also very cautious. That was how Aren had always seen her.

“We should hurry back to the mansion,” he said.

“I was thinking the same. But somehow, it feels like the count is trying to keep me here no matter what excuse he uses…”

Aren hadn’t dared to say it aloud. But if even Rosebel—who could be rather oblivious—felt it, then it was serious.

Could it be that the count wanted to marry Daniel and Rosebel?

Aren didn’t know the count’s intentions, but the thought alone made him deeply uncomfortable.

“Do you like Daniel?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh? Since Daniel isn’t here, you’re calling him by name so freely now?” she teased.

“Don’t dodge the question. I’m serious.”

“Like him how? We just exchange knowledge. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Only after hearing her say she had no such feelings did Aren finally feel relieved. It was ridiculous how his emotions swung so wildly over just a few words.

Still, Daniel was a decent man by anyone’s standards. If Rosebel ever developed feelings for him, Aren didn’t know what he would do.

He knew very well that she wasn’t someone he could claim for himself. And yet, imagining her becoming someone else’s wife made his insides twist painfully.

“I want to go home,” he said.

“What?” Rosebel asked.

“I said I want to go home.”

“Is the work too hard?”

“No. Not here—our home.”

The impact of the words our home was far stronger than Rosebel could have imagined. For a moment, she wondered if she had misheard him.

But… could Aren really have said our home?

No—it was possible. After all, it really was the house where he lived.

She just hadn’t thought it would ever feel like home to him.

Wasn’t adulthood about leaving whenever you chose?

Even though he was still a minor, once Aren grew up, if he decided to leave her, she would have no excuse to stop him.

He might suddenly want to find his parents—or meet someone he loved.

“Someone he loves…”

The thought made Rosebel’s mood instantly sour. Without warning, she punched Aren right in the solar plexus.

“Ugh!”

“If you go around flirting with women, I’ll kill you!” she shouted.

“What kind of nonsense is that?!” Aren yelled back.

“Don’t forget what I said. Got it?”

Aren was already wronged from being punched, and now he was being threatened out of nowhere by Rosebel.