MLHRGD 55

#55. Active Role (5)

It began in the village where Andrei had managed the field.

“You—you’re really going to eat that? That ‘devil’s dung’?”

“Devil’s dung?!”

Farmer 1 flared up.

“This isn’t anything like devil’s dung!
It’s a noble dish—even the lords and our liege himself eat it!”

Yet even as he defended Carto,
Farmer 1 still felt uneasy inside.

It should be safe… right?

He used the method the knight had endlessly shouted while guarding the field:
Boiling it in a pot with some Parsho leaves
until it turned soft and fluffy, then sprinkling it with salt.

“It smells good, at least…”

Farmer 1 cautiously parted his lips,
placing just a tiny morsel of boiled Carto on his tongue—
barely a bird’s feed worth.

If it was dangerous,
at least the small bite wouldn’t do much harm.

But the moment the Carto touched his tongue,
his doubtful expression transformed.

“Mmm!”

“What? What’s wrong? Is it bad?”

Ignoring his neighbor’s question,
Farmer 1 shoved the rest into his mouth in a rush.

It was scalding hot,
and swallowing so quickly left his chest a little tight—

But.

“Mmm!”

Delicious!

Afraid someone might snatch it away,
Farmer 1 devoured the Carto as quickly as he could.

Seeing this, his neighbor grew anxious.

“What’s with you? …Wait, is it really that good?”

They had boiled about five Cartos,
and now only one remained.

Though still hesitant,
watching Farmer 1 devour it so eagerly made him want to try at least one.

“Fine!”

The neighbor screwed his eyes shut,
snatched the last Carto, and bit into it.

What if it really tasted like dung?
The fear lasted only a second.

“Mmm!”

Delicious!

The vivid shock of flavor made him snap his eyes open.

He locked eyes with Farmer 1,
who was trembling as he savored the taste.

A nod.

With just that, they understood each other.

The two hurried to boil more Carto—
this time, enough to fill the pot!

…And so, word spread from the mouths of those who had tasted Carto once.

Not only did it cause no harm,
but everyone praised its flavor.
Soon people felt little reluctance to eat it.

“You’re eating that?”

“Heavens, where have you been hiding? In some mountain hut?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“There’s no one not eating it now.
It’s so scarce we can’t get enough!”

Before long, merchants noticed its value.
They began buying Carto cheaply and selling it for profit.

By then, Sasha moved to the next step.

With demand matching supply,
she spread Carto farming methods to the public.

Though Carto grew quickly on its own,
using the techniques Sasha remembered from her past life
made it grow even faster and larger.

Already fast-growing,
with her methods, Carto fever swept through the Grand Duke’s domain
in just two weeks.

The result—

“These days, every household serves Carto at every meal!”

Yelena, unable to hide her excitement, shouted while reporting.

“It all turned out exactly as you said, my lady!”

Sasha shook her head slightly at Yelena’s wonder.

“Not yet.”

“Pardon?”

“We’ve had success in our domain,
but the other lands are still far behind.”

Ivan added,

“Indeed. Merchants who saw its potential are trying to sell it in other domains,
but rumors alone aren’t enough to overcome people’s prejudice.”

“Yes. And we can’t personally repeat what we did here in every land…”

Even as subjects of Grand Duke Volkov,
they couldn’t directly impose influence in other domains.
That would be overstepping.

So a subtler method was needed.

“This time, I’ll need help from you both—Ivan, Yelena.”

“Anything, my lady!”

Yelena replied brightly,
and Ivan nodded.

Sasha smiled.

“Could you identify nobles in the North who are favorable to me?”

“That’s easy enough, but… why?”

Ivan tilted his head,
and Sasha explained.

“I intend to invite them.
If I show them Carto’s flavor and usefulness,
they’ll start growing and spreading it themselves…”

“Then without us lifting a finger,
Carto will spread throughout the North.”

Ivan nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.”

Yelena stroked her chin.

“I see. I’ll draw up a list of suitable nobles.”

“Please do. Ah, and there’s more.
For this sort of thing, having people to stir up excitement is crucial.
Can I count on you for that too?”

“Of course.”

Sasha leaned in,
whispering the details of her plan.
Ivan and Yelena agreed without hesitation.

After they left,
Sasha decided to call on Sergey Molchalin as well.

“I hear you wanted to see me?”

In walked an old man—
snow-white hair, face lined with wrinkles,
yet his strong frame rivaled that of young knights.

Sergey Molchalin, nearing seventy,
still brimmed with vigor.

His beast-like presence alone
was enough to make others shrink back.

If he’s this imposing now…
what must he have been like in his prime?

Likely terrifying enough to make knees buckle with just a glance.

Fortunately, this fearsome man
was kindly disposed toward Sasha.

He liked how she listened attentively—
or more precisely, endured his endless chatter.

“Yes. I’d like to ask your help.”

“Is that so? What with?”

Though far her elder in both age and rank,
Sergey still addressed her politely,
insisting he couldn’t speak informally to the mistress of a house,
even if only temporarily.

And his eyes on her were as warm as a grandfather’s.

Whatever the reason,
Sasha had nothing to lose from the hero’s goodwill.

So, once more, it proved useful.

“…And that is why I’d like your support, Lord Sergey.”

“I see…”

He stroked his bristly beard.
But his deliberation was brief.

“Very well. I’ll help.”

And he gave his reason plainly.

“I’ve eaten dishes made with this Carto several times.
In every respect, I found them most satisfying.”

Easy to grow, easy to store,
nutritious, and delicious.
He even regretted not knowing of it sooner.

“Is that so?”

Sasha was relieved.

Genuine praise would be far more convincing
than forced flattery.

After securing Sergey’s support,
Sasha checked the noble list Yelena had given her.

Names, ages, family ties—
with Yelena’s handwritten notes attached.

Sasha sorted them into groups,
focusing on just three types:

Those deeply loyal—
who would treat her words as if from Grand Duke Volkov himself.

Those sensitive to trends.

And those easily swayed—
quick to imitate what others did.

She sent them invitations,
written in florid, noble style,
inviting them to a luncheon.

Replies came swiftly—
all accepting.

As expected.

Since Count Tula had been removed,
the Grand Duke’s manor had remained tightly shut.

The Volkov household, rulers of the North,
was always watched closely by other nobles.

With recent upheavals,
they would be even more alert—
eager to see what kind of person
Sasha, the acting head, truly was.

They won’t pass up the chance to attend
the first social gathering I host.

It was a chance to spy on the changed Grand Duke’s manor,
and more than that,
a mark of prestige—proof they were chosen.

Afterward, telling their peers about the luncheon
would make them the center of attention.

“One week… that’s tight.”

With only a week to prepare,
everyone from aides to household staff was thrown into a frenzy.

And none busier than Sasha herself,
who directed it all.

Working without proper sleep,
the week flew by.

At last, the great gates of Velikorod Castle opened wide.
A procession of ornate carriages rolled through the main entrance.

They were the first outsiders admitted
since the string of incidents that had sealed the manor like a hibernating bear.

From the moment they entered, they sensed it.

Ah, this is no longer the Grand Duke’s manor we knew.

“It’s completely different now.”

The castle had utterly changed
from when Count Tula had been regent.

Velvet curtains with elegant embroidery,
cabinets filled with exotic plates and carvings,
antiques of incalculable value—
everything, large and small, was new.

“Indeed. I hadn’t expected such refined taste from the new regent.”

They had thought the young acting lady—
closer to a girl than a woman—
would prefer something bright and frivolous.

But the reality was the opposite.

The castle’s interiors, dominated by stately colors,
could have seemed old-fashioned.
Yet arranged with such discerning taste,
they exuded elegance instead.

The careful decor and balanced layout
kept it lively, a delight to the eyes the longer one looked.

“How beautiful… I wish my home looked like this.”

“If the castle opens to the public,
many will rush to copy it.”

The trend-conscious young ladies
whispered behind their fans.

Their eyes roamed everywhere,
not lingering on a single spot,
but scanning the whole.

And so did the other guests,
their gazes darting, hungry for every detail.

After a tour of the castle,
they were shown to their rooms for the night.

Even the guest chambers were breathtakingly elegant.

Mother-of-pearl desks,
dressers adorned with painted porcelain panels…

Exotic furnishings that could easily have clashed
instead blended into a harmonious scene.

Back under Count Tula,
the manor had been decent enough—
neither cutting-edge nor outdated.
A safe, ordinary space.

But now—

It’s been raised to the level of art.

The nobles grew even more curious.

Just what kind of person
could have transformed the castle so completely?