"Flax, Your Grace?" another advisor let out a dry, hacking laugh, "You’ve bought up half the marshlands in the province to grow flax? It’s a peasant’s crop. The margins are non-existent, and the labor required to process it into linen will cost more than the harvest is worth. Even the most desperate farmers have abandoned those fields."

Evelina leaned back, her emerald eyes tracking the flight of a crow outside the window.

The System had long analyzed the soil composition and confirmed it was perfect for high-yield, long-fiber flax. And she had already calculated a 400% return on investment within the next two quarters.

"The North needs a secondary industry," Evelina said simply, "We cannot rely solely on mining and grain, especially when the mines are... unreliable."

The mention of the mines caused a sharp intake of breath. The news of the funding cut to the Snow family had traveled through the manor like wildfire, but no one dared speak of it openly yet.

"Scientific pumps are one thing, Duchess," One of them said, his voice sharpening with a hidden bite, "But economics is another battlefield of its own. You are acting on a whim. We urge you to void these contracts before the first planting."

"The contracts stand," Evelina stated, rising from her chair, "Good day, gentlemen."

As Evelina walked down the long corridor toward her private study, she didn’t need the System to tell her what was being said behind her back. The sound of judgement echoed off the stone walls.

"A fluke," One man muttered, his voice dripping with disdain, "The water pumps were a stroke of luck, nothing more. A woman, at the end of the day, is still a just a woman who lacks the stomach for real power."

"A bored Duchess playing at being a merchant, hmph! She’ll tire of the mud soon enough, but not before she’s bled the treasury dry. It’s a shame, really. I thought for a moment she was different, but it seems like she is also interested in useless things as most women. Shouldn’t His Grace take some action now?"

Evelina’s pace didn’t falter, but her grip on her fan tightened until the silk creaked.

They had respected her when she saving them from thirst, but the moment she moved to claim economic territory, they switched to their same old prejudices.

That, was the nature of humans. In need, they would desperately lick off every drop of blood you feed them. And once the need is fulfilled, they would call your blood pungent and filthy.

Absent-mindedly, Evelina left those people behind as rounded the corner and nearly collided with Ace.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. His dark hair was disheveled, and there was a heavy stillness in the air around him.

He looked at her, and for a split second, the coldness in his eyes wavered, replaced by a hint of tenderness.

Once he opened his mouth, an aloofness returned to his voice, "The advisors tell me you’ve spent spent a huge amount of gold on some useless shallow marshes."

"I have," she said, "Is there a problem with it, Your Grace?"

Ace sighed, a sound of genuine frustration, "It isn’t about the gold. The North is just beginning to stabilize. If you squander your reputation on a failed harvest, I cannot protect you from the Council’s criticism."

"I don’t remember the auspicious moment where I sat you down and asked for your protection," she said, stepping around him. "I asked for a partnership since it was the need of the time. And that’s all. We shouldn’t meddle too much in each other’s businesses."

She didn’t stay to watch the hurt flicker across his face.

Every time she looked at him, the confusing ache in her chest flared, reminding her of the Heart-Wrecker points she had unknowingly farmed from his... hurt emotions.

Weeks passed in a blur and some ungrateful people got comfortable in their seats again.

While the nobility mocked her for her useless new hobbies, Evelina was in the fields, overseeing the planting of the flax.

She used the System to optimize irrigation and soil nutrients, working in the dirt alongside the laborers.

She was exhausted, her emerald gowns replaced by sturdy, dark woo but it looked like Evelina was on a mission to numb herself to other things by doing such heavy tasks.

By the time the first green shoots began to carpet the marshes, a frantic courier arrived from the Capital.

He carried news that turned the mocking smiles of the advisors into masks of horror.

Evelina was standing in her newly constructed warehouse when the System pinged with a high-priority alert.

[Event Detected: The Southern Silk Blight]

[Analysis: A rare fungal pathogen has decimated 90% of the Empire’s mulberry groves. Silk production has ceased indefinitely.]

[Market Prediction: Textile prices to rise by 800%. Luxury fabric shortage imminent]

Evelina looked at the empty space of her warehouse. In the coming weeks, it would be filled to the rafters with high-quality flax, the only raw material left in the Empire that could be refined into a fabric worthy of the nobility.

Silk was gone. The shimmering gowns of the Capital were about to become relics of the past at a time like this.

The nobility would soon find themselves shivering in their stone palaces, desperate for anything that wasn’t rough and itchy wool.

And right then, they would be needing her linen.

Evelina had known that this investment would pay off in the distant future. But she did not expect to see the returns on such a short notice.

It was almost... like the God wanted to slap the nobility on their faces too.

"Duchess!" The oldest of Ace’s advisor burst into the warehouse, his face pale and his hands shaking as he held the Aurelia Gazette, "In the South... the silk is gone! The markets are in a total panic! The Empress has declared a state of economic emergency!"

The water was a problem that caused suffering in people of all social status yet the Empress didn’t show much of a reaction. Now that silk is concerned, it has become an emergency?