The velvet-lined boxes sat open on the vanity, their contents catching the morning light like trapped stars.

There was a necklace of teardrop pearls, a heavy gold bracelet embossed with the Snow family crest, and a pair of emerald earrings that had belonged to Evelina’s mother.

In the eyes of the world, these were the last remnants of her dignity.

"Your Grace... are you certain?" Marta’s voice trembled as she reached out to touch a ruby brooch. the young maid’s eyes were wide with a mixture of horror,"The Head Housekeeper... umm... the new one says the gossip in the servant’s hall is... well, they say the Duke has cut you off entirely."

Evelina watched her own reflection in the mirror. She looked pale, but her eyes were like flint, "Let them gossip, Marta. Pity is a shield. As long as they think I am desperate and failing, they won’t look closely at what I’m actually doing. So, I don’t mind it."

By noon, the ’desperate’ Duchess had summoned a local jeweler to the side entrance. The man had arrived with a predatory gleam in his eye, expecting to fleece a panicked girl.

He left an hour later, his pockets lighter by a small fortune in coin, while Evelina held a heavy leather satchel of gold.

The news traveled through the Alvarez estate like wildfire. From the stables to the laundry rooms, the story was the same: The new Duchess is selling her mother’s heirlooms. She’s penniless. The Snow family has abandoned her, and the Duke has forgotten her. She’s truly a Pauper Duchess now.

The laundry maids shook their heads in silent pity as they washed her linens. The footmen smirked behind their hands. Even the stray cats seemed to look at her with more sympathy.

They saw a woman losing everything. Evelina saw a woman liquidating dead weight into liquid power.

"Marta, come here."

The maid scurried forward, her face flushed from the heat of the rumors.

Evelina handed her a heavy purse and a sealed set of instructions.

"You are to leave for the neighboring province of Oakhaven within the hour," Evelina said in a low voice, "Do not use a carriage with the Alvarez crest. Take a plain wagon and buy every bushel of grain, oats, and barley currently sitting in their silos."

Marta blinked, her jaw dropping, "Grain, Your Grace? But the harvest was plentiful. The prices are at an all-time low. Why would we buy grain from Oakhaven when our own fields are so green?"

"Because," Evelina said, leaning forward until her gaze locked onto the girl’s, "the green won’t last. In fourteen days, the sky will turn to brass."

A hint of smile appeared on Evelina’s face, confusing Marta whether she was joking or being serious, "Trust me. And tell the merchants you are buying for a private distillery. Do not mention my name. Do not mention the Duke."

In her first life, Marta had been a girl Evelina ignored, she was barely a shadow in the hallway. But Marta had probably been the only person who had not tried to trample on her.

Now, Marta was the only person she had treated with a shred of human decency in this cold house.

[Notification: ’Secret Trade’ Initialized]

[Target: 10,000 Bushels of Wheat]

[Current Progress: 0%]

"I... I will do as you ask, Your Grace," Marta whispered, clutching the gold to her chest. She saw something in Evelina’s eyes that terrified her more than the rumors; it was some sort of absolute certainty.

While Marta slipped out the back gates, Evelina returned to the ledgers. She spent the afternoon calculating the caloric needs of a ducal army.

She calculated the burn rate of a city under siege by the sun. By the time the shadows grew long, her eyes were burning with strain, but the math was clear.

She was going to control the grain of the neighboring province before the drought was declared.

That evening, the atmosphere in the servant’s quarters was somber. Usually, the staff ate thin watery pottage and day-old bread; the basic necessities Gable had enforced.

They sat at the long wooden benches, expecting another night of hunger and hushed talk about the Duchess’s impending ruin.

But when the kitchen doors swung open, the scent that wafted out didn’t smell of cabbage water. It smelled of roasted pork, rosemary-crusted potatoes, and fresh yeast bread slathered in butter.

The cook, a stout man who had spent the morning terrified he’d be the next to be fired, marched out with a tray of honey-glazed hams, "Compliments of Her Grace," he announced, his voice booming with the same disbelief that reflected on the people’s faces, "She says that a house cannot stand if its foundations are hungry."

The servants froze. They looked at the feast, a meal better than what most of them had eaten at Christmas.

"Is it true?" a scullery maid whispered, reaching for a warm roll, "Is she really selling her jewelry to feed... us?"

In the servant’s mind, the story shifted instantly. She wasn’t just a failing Duchess; she was a martyr. She was a saint who was sacrificing her own heritage to ensure they didn’t suffer in the the Duke’s absence.

Evelina stood in the shadows of the stone gallery overlooking the hall.

She watched as they began to eat, their movements frantic at first, then slow and reverent. She saw the way they looked toward her closed doors; not with pity, but a hint of fierce protectiveness.

[Notification: ’The Bread of Life’ event triggered.]

[Result: Household perception shifted from ’Pity’ to ’Devotion’]

[System Update: Loyalty of Household increased to 20%. Progressing...]

Evelina leaned against the cold stone pillar. The emeralds were gone, the pearls were sold, and the gold was in a wagon headed for Oakhaven.

She was technically ’poorer’ than she had been that morning, but as she listened to the clatter of forks and the rising murmurs of ’God bless the Duchess,’ she knew better.

Pity was a shield that she needed to use at the moment, but loyalty was a sword she was taking in the long run.

And in fourteen days, when the wells began to dry and the Duke’s heroism fail to feed a single mouth, she would use her own blades.

"Eat well," she whispered to the darkness, "The hunger is coming, and you’ll need your strength to help me hold the gates."