“You mean Lady Beatrice is shady about keeping records?”

Lord Frankie closed the book and set it aside, looking coldly at the two of them. Sir James remained calm as a money keeper like him was taught, his hands in front of his stomach, said:

“My lord, that is not what I meant. Lady Beatrice is very thorough, however…”

“However?” asked Frankie, frowning. He really hates these words, because for him, whatever happens after that is not good.

"However, the young lady is too soft-hearted to continue being a tax collector," he asserted.

“I need you to be more specific.”

"My lord," said Sir James respectfully. “Lady Beatrice is emotionally driven in the collection of taxes, which any tax collectors must avoid, because it will lose objectivity and cause a substantial deficit. And…"

“And…?” Frankie frowned.

“The lady's kindness has left us with a deficit of more than 160,000 pesols, 165,720 coins to be exact. That is unacceptable!” Sir James said with a serious look on his face.

"My lord...", Hamilton crept back, "I have been there, she did let some people the permission not to pay tax, including the Mactovish family, who have not paid a dime of the Land Tax and the Agricultural Tax. .”

"And you didn't stop her?" said the lord, visibly annoyed.

"I do, sir," said Hamilton slowly. "But the lady is very adamant about giving them a tax debt. She said she'll be covering the missing amount when it's time."

“My lord, I am afraid that the way a treasurer like me and Lady Beatrice is in conflict, I hope you make a decision. I have always believed that there should be only one direction to work,” Sir James finished the story with a face full of determination.

Lord Frankie clearly saw their determination to make things right. He felt a little awkward. If it's Beatrice, then surely she has a reason to do it. But with such a large deficit, he did not know what to do.

“Lady Beatrice wouldn't do it without a good reason…”

'But my lord,' interrupted Sir James. "I'm afraid the young lady is being taken advantage of by those... rats with her kindness."

“Is it bad enough?”

"I wouldn't hesitate to say it's too bad, my lord," replied Sir James.

“After the 200,000 pesols deduction for the Great Treasury, with the remainder and the deficit, Ubberst is going to be in trouble,” Hamilton said.

“So what do you guys suggest?” asked Frankie, tapping his fingers on the table.

“If you allow it, I would like those households to pay immediately. The more they delay, the more they will take it for granted,” said Sir James.

Lord Frankie thought quietly in his mind. He snorted coldly, then replied.

“I will give you an official answer as soon as possible. Thank you for coming to tell me about the situation.”

"Nothing, my lord," said Sir James, nodding. He kept his expression unchanged at every word Frankie said. He motioned for Hamilton to retrieve the book and left the lord's study. Frankie sighed silently, one more thing to worry about.

Beatrice is now much better, but still can't call it a full recovery. She was able to sit up and read a book, the only thing she felt she was capable of. Unable to practice horseback riding or archery, Beatrice could only train her mind.

Three knocks came from outside, accompanied by a familiar voice:

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Beatrice?”

"Father? Come on in."

Beatrice was surprised by her father's visit, and also felt glad about it. She closed the book and set it aside. Seeing her father enter, Beatrice immediately showed a bright smile.

"I see you're getting better now."

He walked over, smiled, leaned over and kissed her forehead, then sat down on a chair beside the bed. Beatrice replied:

“That depends on how you define it, but I really feel better than I did last week,” she smiled lightly, “At least I can read books.”

Frankie looked down at the book Beatrice was reading. History of Arglohandre, a book half a hand thick and he could smell its antiquity from its present location. He looked at Beatrice with pity in his eyes, a little self-blame for what she had to go through on her own during the ceremony.

“Beatrice, do you blame me for forcing you to participate in that ritual?”

"No," Beatrice took his hand, looking at Frankie with a gentle expression that seemed to ease the guilt. “It's… not really easy, but… there are times when I think it's necessary. I can't just succeed you without spending a single thing, can I?"

Frankie laughed. It's funny when the person who should be comforted is comforted in the opposite direction. Beatrice continued:

“Father, don't feel sorry for anything. I'm fine! At least I am an heir accepted by both the Old God and the New God, not someone sarcastically saying…”

"She's your sister after all," sighed Frankie. He had only two daughters, but they competed for everything. The father as he could not be reassured.

“But Damiana doesn't see me as her sister. She still thinks you are biased towards me. Meanwhile, she refuses to look at herself", Beatrice also did not hesitate to use harsh words with this only sister. Damiana also made Beatrice angry many times.

“She thinks your shadow is too big…”

“Then she should try to get out of that shadow,” Beatrice said. “Damiana never really tried. No wonder she's only forever behind me. Well, there's one thing she does much better than me, and that's crying. I can't be better than her at this."

Beatrice made a bored face, every time she thought about her crying tricks, she had nothing to say. Beatrice wasn't a mean person, much less a bad sister, but she wouldn't squander her feelings on someone who couldn't give her the bare minimum of respect. It was Damiana who thought the world was unfair to it and hurt herself, about that she couldn't interfere.

Damiana clenched her palms together, her teeth clenched, but she tried not to make a sound. Beatrice did not know that the conversation between her and him had been overheard by the girl standing outside. Damiana not only listened, but also heard not a single word. The child's expression did not change one bit. It was impossible to guess what Damiana was thinking in her mind. She looks like a person in the clouds from just her facial expression. No anger, no pain, no resentment, she still kept that indifferent expression. Damiana didn't bother to hear any more, and she left, still with that mysterious constancy. No one knew what she was thinking or planning, and not even herself.

“That's why I want you to help her. Your sister… feeling overshadowed by someone else is not simple,” he said softly.

Beatrice sighed, her expression displeased. Using such harsh words to talk about Damiana didn't make Beatrice any better. In fact, Beatrice loves her very much, but the more she shows her affection, the more Damiana pushes her out of her comfort zone. How can we love someone without their permission?

“I know…” Beatrice replied. “Sometimes I'm jealous of Evelyn, too. Damiana likes her very much, always wraps around her."

“By the way, Beatrice…”, Frankie suddenly remembered what the main issue of the day was.

"Yes?"

“How do you feel about collecting taxes?” Frankie looked at her daughter with a questioning look.

“It's fine. The people… they are very cooperative. Anything?", Beatrice was a little surprised.

Frankie looked at her daughter silently, then smiled. He shook his head and said:

"Nothing. I just want to know if everything is fine. Later on, you will have to face even more difficult things.”

"Yes, I know," Beatrice replied.

Frankie sighed in relief and stood up. He adjusted his clothes and said as he did:

"Well, I have to go."

Beatrice nodded and smiled instead of greeting. She continued to open the book right at the page she was reading. Frankie left, but as he reached the doorway, he stopped, turned his head to look at Beatrice and said:

“You know, once you step into the ring of power, you'll be nothing but invisible chains wrapped around you. You won't be able to do what you think is right. The law is the law, and that's what you swore. Sixteen years as a lord is the same for me, we are all bound.”

Beatrice listened to his every word silently, as if it were an admonition to herself. She didn't have time to ask if he was implying, and he left the room shortly after. The door slammed shut, interrupting her train of thought. Beatrice rubbed her eyes with her hand, then continued reading.