The next several days flew by as we prepared for harvest. Everyone was running around getting things ready, and I was no exception. I was trying to work with Benjamin to coordinate the best use of our men to harvest everything as quickly as possible. Everyone participated in the harvest. It didn't matter if you were a farmer or a cook. The harvest had to be brought in, and it had to be done as quickly as possible.

A thought occurred to me about a harvest festival. I asked Draves, and he said that in the kingdom of Falmoren, people held a harvest feast after the work was done. People gathered and ate a meal, but it was nothing more than that. In this barony, Lord Bicman would come out once everyone was gathered. He would make a speech about how grateful he was to the Endless One for a good harvest, even though they really never had one, and then go back into the manor.

Suddenly, I was frantically trying to prepare a harvest festival. It wouldn't be huge this year. A few games that the locals played, one seemed very similar to cornhole, and a feast. A real feast, not just some lame meal. Next year, I promised myself it would be a big party. The type where people celebrate for a couple of days and then need a day to recover. We would have more things to do and bring in crafters with wares to sell. I would set up booths and have contests.

On top of getting all of this ready, I was forced to learn to shoot a bow. Why? Because if a noble came or I visited others, I might be expected to go on hunts. I figured out it was kind of like how all the rich people of my time took up golf. I decided then and there to invent the game of golf. That way, I wouldn't have to huddle in the woods waiting for prey to come. I had nothing against hunting. It just really wasn't for me. Of course, neither was golf, so maybe basketball would be better.

So, each day, in addition to sword and spear training, I would shoot arrows. I had gotten my archery merit badge, so I knew a little about it, but that didn't make me very good. Fortunately, all the work I was doing had already built up callouses, so I didn't get any blisters from practicing.

During all the craziness, we managed to complete the reaper. Unfortunately, it was an utter failure. The large blades were supposed to act like those old-fashioned mowers, but instead, they just caused most of the stocks to bend. Those they did cut scattered due to the force of the blade. After making some adjustments and trying several more times, we put the project away. It also ended up being so huge it took four mules to pull. That was resources that could have been spent elsewhere.

We could not afford to destroy a field just to get this thing working. To say that my people were dispirited was an understatement. They had put a lot of effort and time into building this, and it was utterly worthless. I knew there was a way to do this and that we would figure it out, but I just hated to see my people like this.

And that is how I found myself standing before a group of men giving a pep talk. "I want to thank all of you for your work on this first attempt to make a reaper. I know you are discouraged. I feel the same way. It is never fun to have your hard work go to waste. In my opinion, though, this is not a waste. We have learned what does not work and why. When experimenting, failure is the norm. But I want you to think of this failure as a large stone. We can look at it and tell ourselves it is an obstacle that prevents us from succeeding, or we can think of it as a stepping stone that will eventually lead us to success. We may have many of these stepping stones disguising themselves as obstacles blocking our way. But if we overcome them, we will succeed. I want you all to think about what we learned and figure out what we can do to make something that works. By the next harvest, I want to have something new to try. The first mechanical reaper will be built in Bicman, and it will change the world."

My speech helped to lift their spirits a little, and as they walked away, I could tell they were determined to make this work.

I wish I could say that harvest time was exciting, but it really wasn't. What I can say is that the grain warehouse in Bicman was full for the first time in anyone's memory. We may have to build an extra one in each village for next year. The harvest did not stop with grain, though. Vegetables were harvested and preserved. Cotton was also being gathered, which meant it was time for me to try and recreate my sketches of the cotton gin.

Why was the cotton gin something I remembered? It was all thanks to Buttface. I don't remember her name, but I do remember how annoying she was when we were assigned groups to research and present inventions in agriculture. She insisted we do the cotton gin because some people believed that some woman with the last name Greene invented it and the guy who got credit for it didn't. There was no concrete proof either way, so I couldn't see how it mattered. I couldn't care less who got the credit, but every time we met up to work on the project, she got on her soap box and complained about how women were undervalued. A true hard-core feminist.

She wrote the report, and all I had to do was draw pictures on fake aged paper to make it seem like the original schematics. The other guy in the group did nothing because she insisted on doing all the research. She wanted me to pass the drawings around the room as she presented. Right before class, I wrote at the bottom of each page, "Really invented by:" whoever that guy's name was. So, as she was giving her long-winded report about the injustice of the treatment of women when it came to getting credit for their work, guys in the class were snickering about what I had written.

We got an "A" on the project, but Buttface never forgave me. Win-win, in my opinion.

A few days after the grain harvesting, I was getting reports from Benjamin when we got news from Melnon that the dam was starting to be worked on. We had put all other projects on hold while we were preparing for harvest, so it was nice to see that things other than the harvest were starting up again. We had laid the foundation for the mill northeast of Kerisi, but we had decided to wait for Sanders to return and look over the sawmill design.

We had received a letter about ten days back asking if he could bring a trusted friend. An older gentleman he had worked with for many years. Older probably meant around fifty. People usually didn't last too long around here once their health started to decline.

Also, he informed me that nasty rumors had been popping up about my barony and me. Most likely started by Harry, who he had cut all ties with. I was slightly concerned with how this would impact my standing. Everyone loved gossip. But, really, in the end, there wasn't much I could do about it.

The harvest festival cheered me up, however. We cleared a few fields and had women from all over the barony helping to prepare a meal. There were games and a few contests with prizes. Next year, I wanted to have a dunking booth. And some other carnival games. In the future, I swore to myself I would have a water-powered carousel. I spent the day doing sketches for prize winners. It was a roaring success. I am sure I got some points towards a "We Love the Baron Day!"

"My Lord, I wanted you to take a final look at the furniture that we put in each room before the Baron of Tine arrives," Mickel said one afternoon.

That would be the final touches on the house. At first, when my inner circle demanded that I spruce up the manor before our noble guests arrived, I balked. We had too much to do. But Benjamin insisted that if we wanted to fix the impression people had of the barony, we would have to start concerning ourselves with impressing our guests. That is how I got roped into creating an impressive new look for our manor.

After plastering the outside walls, I whitewashed them. Then, I created a half-timber design that went halfway up the exterior wall. It would be considered old-fashioned on earth, but all my people were impressed with it. A concrete driveway ran up to the manor from the gate, ending in a large circular area where carriages could be turned around. Eventually, it would contain a fountain or something, but now it was just bushes. Bushes also lined the front of the manor.

The interior had also been spruced up. I painted small scenic pictures for each room. I would have loved to do large ones, but I was running low on paint. I had designed a mosaic of the Bicman seal to be placed on the floor as people entered the great hall. I wanted a large one, but with all the other work, I didn't want to risk it being half-done by the time the guests arrived.

As we entered the old steward's room, I was impressed by what I saw. I decided to give my guests the steward's room and turn the front room into a small sitting room. The steward's original table was sanded, new lacquer was applied, and a drawer was added to store paper and writing utensils.

The goose-down pillow I had made for myself, a novelty here, went to their room. Benjamin said horse hair was becoming popular in the cities as a mattress filling, but it was too late to gather enough hair to switch out their mattresses.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

When we entered the bedroom, a smile lit up my face. A large armoire sat against the far wall. It had both regular hangers and hangers with clips for skirts. It had two drawers on the bottom. It wasn't the most beautifully crafted piece of furniture, but Mikel's crew was working on a decorative top and wings that could be attached to the sides. If we had enough time before our guests arrived, we would add them.

*********

Two weeks later, our guests arrived. Fortunately, I had gotten word from Kerisi before their carriage arrived. I had time to put on one of my outfits made of the new cotton weave. It wasn't anything fancy on the outside, but it did look a lot better than most of my other clothes, and it was probably one of the most comfortable things I had.

I wished I could have gotten their reaction when pulling up to the manor. From what Marshandra told me, their last visit was four years ago, when the father came to discuss Martha's betrothal to Aaron. Apparently, none of the party was impressed, and I didn't blame them. It took a lot of people to maintain a manor, and my father did not put much effort into it.

The looks on the two people's faces as they entered were those of two people who had recently had a good shock. Aaron's grandmother, Maria, looked down at the black mosaic and gave out a little gasp that carried across the silent hall. This surprised me as I was pretty sure that mosaics were not a new thing. At least in my history of art class, I think I remember them being found in civilizations thousands of years ago. Maybe she just didn't expect to see it here.

Baron Tine gave her a sharp look while I tried to hide a smile. I could see a young girl hiding a bit behind the two adults. This was unexpected as I had not been told about any other guests coming with them. She was dressed as a noble, so I had to assume that she was not a handmaid or something like that. She was probably around ten years old and had the same straight, glossy black hair as her mother, Maria.

Benjamin stepped forward and said, "Baron Amos Bicman, may I present-"

"Baron! I thought you were regent. What has happened to Aaron?" Maria shrieked.

"Maria, silence. Forgive me, Baron Bicman, but she is quite fatigued from the trip. I request you let me escort her to our room." Baron Tine said.

"Nonsense, it is quite understandable for her to be concerned about her grandson's well-being. I would be disappointed if she wasn't. Let me assure you that Aaron is quite well. He is napping at this time. I wanted to have him here when we greet you, but he gets quite cranky if we wake him up during nap time. I shall introduce him to you as soon as he awakes and is dressed.

"Regarding my elevation to the title of baron, I had wanted to discuss that with you later, but it looks like now is as good a time as any. It was an unfortunate miscommunication between the king and me. Like the letter I sent to you, The king received a letter explaining our situation and request for regency, but he must have misunderstood my request. Instead of granting me regency, he said that Aaron was too young and made me the baron instead. We will discuss it all later. Benjamin, please continue."

"Lord Amos, I present Baron Klint Tine, his wife Lady Maria Tine, and their youngest daughter Ashlyn Tine."

Because we were equal in status, Baron Tine gave a nod of the head, and the ladies curtsied.

"Baron Tine, May I introduce you to Baron Amos Bicman," Benjamin said.

"Greetings, all of you," I said with a smile. "Now, I apologize, but I only expected the two of you. So it is most fortunate that I had thought it would be best if you stayed in the old steward's room, as it has a bit more room. We will have another bed brought in for you, Lady Ashlyn.

"I will have Benjamin show you to your rooms and will call you as soon as Aaron awakes."

Lady Maria Tine

All of my expectations had been shattered since the moment the gate to the manor was opened. The hardened stone slabs that made up the road were like nothing I had seen before. The bumpy ride through the barony suddenly became as smooth as glass. At first, I thought the baron had torn down the manor and built a new one. The design on the outside was unlike anything I had seen before, but it was an appealing look.

Not only had the outside changed, but all the walls on the inside had become smooth white. I had to restrain myself from reaching out and touching them. When we walked into the dining hall, I couldn't help but gasp at the beautifully done mosaic on the floor. The black stone was polished so that the light from the chandelier and wall lamps caused it to glow.

The boy, no, the young man who sat on the chair before us only slightly resembled the monster that we had met four years ago. He now looked like a younger version of his father. Gone was the shifty look of the boy who had skulked around the manor, leering at all the girls.

And instead of being offended by my slight when I practically accused him of killing our grandson, he played it off with such decorum that I could scarcely believe it. He even praised me for my concern—more the actions of one of our courtiers rather than a baron.

"This is your room, My Lord." The steward said as he opened the door.

As we entered, My eyes were immediately drawn to a picture on the side wall. It was a depiction of a beautiful green valley with a lone outcropping of rock on one side covered in grass. On the outcropping sat a lone tree with pink and white blossoms on it. A stream ran to the side of the rock. The sunlight sparkled in the water, and the fallen petals of the tree drifted lazily.

Before I was even finished examining the picture, Ashlyn had run up to it. After looking at it for a long moment, she turned to me and said, "Mother, are we in a fairy tale? This picture must have been painted by magic. It is as if I am looking out a window."

"That my lady is one of My Lord's favorites. He calls it "The Lone Sakura."

"What is a Sakura?" Ashlyn asked.

"He says it is an ancient word meaning a blossoming cherry tree."

"What is a cherry tree?"

"I do not know, My Lady. Most of the master's paintings come from his imagination. So, the name may have come from there as well. He is known throughout the barony for his excellent stories."

"Are you saying Lord Amos painted this himself?"

"Painting is his passion. In fact, Count Vaspar paid one hundred gold crowns for a portrait of himself. It was all the news in Vaspar a couple of months ago. May I show you your room?"

We left the sitting room and entered the bedroom. A small table sat to one side with a polished brass mirror on it, as well as what I assumed were cosmetic supplies. The scent was that of honeysuckle. I preferred a milder scent, but I knew Ashlyn would approve. What surprised me was what stood along the far wall. A large wooden box with doors. It looked like an armor case, but the open doors showed that it must have been something else. All our clothes had been hung neatly on hooks of some sort.

"This, My Lord and Lady, is an armoire inspired by the armor case used by knights, but it is for nobles to hang their clothes in to keep them from getting creases," Benjamin said.

The steward then went on to explain how dresses, shirts, pants, and skirts could be hung. Then he proceeded to explain the drawers below, which held our undergarments and stockings.

I looked over to see that Ashlyn had picked up a strange wooden circle with what looked like bristles attached to it.

"What is this?" She asked.

Benjamin smiled, "That young lady is a hair brush. You run the bristles through your hair. It is much better than a comb. It is another of Lord Amos's inventions. Two months ago, no one had ever seen one, and now all of the women of Bicman cannot do without them. He had that one made for your mother, but I am sure he will have one for you by the end of the day."

She immediately began brushing her hair and, after a few minutes, began to sigh with delight as the last snarl was removed. She continued to brush and look at herself in the mirror. After a few more minutes, she reached back and felt her hair.

"It feels so good," she whispered.

"If you will excuse me, I must attend to my other duties. Some rosemary mint tea is being made for you and will be brought in shortly. Is there anything else you require?"

"No," Klint said, "You have been most kind. "But might I ask where you are from? You are not the steward that was here before."

"No, My Lord, I am the son of the steward of Duke Kimton. The duke specifically requested that I take over the duties of the steward when the old steward died."

"Did he die due to the same illness that took our Martha?" I asked.

"That is something best discussed with the baron," He said formally. "If there is nothing else, I will take my leave. I will retrieve you when Lord Aaron awakes."

As soon as the man left, I turned to Klint and said, "What is going on here? This is not the same manor we visited four years ago. It is, like Ashlyn said, a fairytale or an illusion."

"That is exactly what it is. An illusion. Someone wiped out the family and is using Amos as a puppet. There is no way the son of a duke's steward is here by chance. He is working for someone. For some reason, they are propping Lord Amos up."

"But why? There is nothing here."

"If that is, in fact, his artwork and a single picture sold for one hundred gold, then I would assume that he is making someone rich in exchange for getting rid of his family."

"Do you truly think so?"

"It is a possibility. He sits out here painting, and someone sells his work for more than this barony is worth. But that is not why we are here. We are here for our grandson. That is all I care about. We are not even a part of the same duchy. Let the nobles of this land play their own games."

"What do you think it will cost us?" I whispered

"Leave that to me," He whispered, looking back towards the other room.

I shuttered, "Klint, No. We can't. She wasn't even supposed to come."

"Things have changed. We need an heir."