While there had, in recent times, emerged the concept of "economy", it still lacked a particular meaning among those who used it. Or rather, everyone used it as they thought it should be used. The common theme among them was simply that it referred to money in some fashion.

However, she had a particular definition, both specific and unique. Rather than something as abstract as money, she looked at an economy in terms of labour. It was labour which produced useful things, so she cared about labour. It was people, compensated for their labour, who bought both useful and useless things.

Money meant nothing. With the power she held as a countess, she could compel labour and had no shortage of revenues to purchase labour. Labour was what limited her ambition. Thus the economy, to her, reflected how valuable the labour being performed was.

It was only natural that she focused on how to improve the productivity of such labour—on labour which improved future labour.

Outside, the wind howled, building creaked and groaned at times, rain peppering the windows in loud, sharp beats. Yet there was no breeze, fire crackling in the fireplace. Warmth enveloped the room decorated with rugs and tapestries and upholstered couches. However, those were simple decorations, not exotic items imported from abroad nor made of particularly fine materials.

"Ma'am, it has been a while." The soft voice spoke with hardly an accent now and, though soft, held a quiet confidence.

She turned to the voice with a small smile. "Master Haartsen," she said.

The master giggled, her unreserved laughter light, tinkling. It belied her age, yet it seemed as if time had forgotten her. Even now her skin was bleached white by many years of being bedridden and that paleness was only emphasised by the ginger hair framing her face, a few ringlets loose from her cap. It was no longer a sickly paleness, though.

That appearance was not to be mistaken for innocence. A master she was, one who had overseen quite possibly the largest construction in a millennia.

"You have been well?" the master asked, smile warm.

"I have. My recent travels have left me a touch listless, but it is a welcome distraction from my husband's absence," she said with her hands neatly folded on her lap.

The master held her smile a moment longer, then looked away as she sat down on the other couch in the room. "Well, if nothing else, maybe I can distract Ma'am."

She laughed with a gentleness. "Oh, Master Haartsen certainly can be distracting when she so wishes."

"Please, there's no one else here, just call me Eva."

For a long few seconds, she stared at the master until the master finally looked back. "Mm, there is no one else, but there is me and I prefer to do things properly." A blatant disappointment pulled at the master's expression, so she continued. "That is, once we have finished the discussion, I would be more than happy to indulge you."

The master settled at those words. "Then let's discuss," she said, only to frown afterwards. "Still, it really has been a while…."

"I have to make the best use of the time I have. There are things which require my presence, and there are things best conveyed with my presence, and there are things where my lack of presence would be notable. To put it another way, I have not had much need to meet with you because of how capable you are. You have carried your responsibilities well."

For a moment, the master simply smiled, then she waved off the compliment. "So it is my fault? I should make more mistakes?" she asked lightly.

"Yes."

That single word hung in the air, the master frozen in place until another giggle thawed her from the inside. "Ma'am said she would only indulge me after the discussion—is it over already?" she asked, her voice quieter, tone more obedient.

"Not quite," she said. Her hand came up and pressed between her eyes as she shut them tight.

The master leant forward, eyes wide. "Is Ma'am unwell?"

"My presence has been in much demand and my husband has not been here to ease the burden, that is all."

"Then rest, there's nothing that can't be said in letters," the master said, on the edge of her seat.

She shook her head, though. "There is much I dare not put into writing and there is a much better understanding which may be reached in person. In particular, this discussion is one which will benefit from being able to go back-and-forth, something which would quite drag out any correspondence."

As she spoke, her eyes fluttered open and, by the end, she looked as composed as she always did.

On the other couch, the master seemed to wilt. "If this is what Ma'am thinks is best."

Silence followed, wind howling and fire crackling.

Eventually, she took in a deep breath, then let it out. "We have several matters so entwined that it is awkward to speak of only one at a time, so do forgive me if I should seem erratic.

"To begin, the canal projects are progressing well, with particular focus on the main trunk. The work on the Lech north of Augstadt is at a point now where we should be able to receive iron from Austria by boat. For the time being, I do want to continue the work south to assist in building up there."

The master listened well, focused, and she broke into the pause. "We are shifting those workers towards other projects?"

Her smile broadened in answer, then returned to polite. "With the iron coming by boat, we may use our land efforts to trade other goods south," she said, her hand gesturing along. "The Venetians will purchase Spanish saltpetre in greater quantities than we may easily produce. In return, we will produce iron cannons for their ships."

"So that is the priority?"

Her smile faded, a long second before she answered. "I have reports that King Sigismund may return during the winter frost to avoid the worst of the marshes there. If that proves accurate, it is vital we are prepared to reinforce the supplies in Bohemia earlier than expected.

"The priority, then, is to continue the production of fusils—flintlocks. Both producing more and replacing the mechanisms on our stockpile of muskets. If a tragedy should happen, the army we could muster would be best served with this simpler mechanism. Once we have adequately provided for that purpose, we can prepare the mills for gunpowder production, that iron keeps better than gunpowder and those freshly recruited may better practise with a musket than with a bag of gunpowder."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The master fell into a pout, her gaze distant. "Those places still require a lot of work. Water does not much like to be dammed and, honestly, I am still not as familiar with the soil here as I wish to be. It would be terrible to put this effort in only for it to be washed away by a break…."

"It would be worse to do nothing out of fear of failure," she said, not with anger, but stern.

Still, it gave the master a small fright, jerking up from her slouched posture. "Yes, Ma'am is right."

She let a gentle laugh fall, hands on her lap, and a smile lingered afterwards. "There is no need for that. What I mean is that, now your concerns are known, we may work towards addressing them in whatever form is most prudent. Many priests are curious men, so I may enquire with those near the planned area for their expertise on the soil. At the same time, even if not ideal, we may start with something less ambitious to gain experience with the location."

Silence followed, thick, the master sitting there with her shoulders once more hunched, arms crossed, hands clenched, until she finally spoke. "Ma'am is asking me to make mistakes."

A quiet statement, not a question.

"Yes."

The master seemed to shrink at that answer, her sigh stretching ever longer, held even once she was out of breath. After breathing back in, she brought up a hand to fiddle with her loose hair.

"I do not like to make mistakes. There are uncertainties in what I do, and I pride myself on understanding them. Mistakes, though, are unforgivable."

"What I wish for is Master Haartsen's talents to be used. If they cannot be used for this, I shall find someone else."

Those words cut through the room's warmth. "What is Ma'am saying so easily?" she asked, quiet.

"To speak like that, what are you thinking? There is much other work I may put your efforts towards. However, if such effort cannot be put towards this task, naturally I must find someone else who can do it and that must be my priority. King Sigismund will not wait patiently for us. I pride myself on anticipating such things that there is no need to rush, yet I will not put others at risk over such pride."

For a while, the master sat there in silence, almost curled up how she held herself, head lolled forwards and gaze practically straight down.

On the other couch, she sat as she always did and simply watched the fire crackle.

"What if there is no one else?" the master asked.

"There is always someone else. However poorly their talents may compare, there is always someone else. Even if it takes twice the effort to produce something half as productive, that is still more than nothing, and effort is something this county has a vast pool of."

A small smile pulled at the master's mouth. "Is that so?" she whispered.

"Pray consider, you are the one upsetting yourself," she said, her tone sterner now. "There is work to be done and my role is to assign it to those who would do it. Are you upset that I did not ask you to establish the bank or take over the mayorship? Of course not. When I asked for you to merely assist Lord Roth, you did so without complaint. Yet, for this task you have expressed yourself unwilling, now it is an issue?"

What answer could the master give to that? Her mouth thinned into a rueful smile and she pushed herself up, sitting straight, as a long sigh slipped out. "Perhaps I just wished to hear Ma'am say she needed me."

"Then you shall be sorely disappointed," she said, her voice still unusual with a stern tone. "It is not my duty to nurse such pride. You have tremendous talent and I wish to make the best use of it, but I would not give anyone that kind of power over me."

Another silence fell, prickly, the master uncomfortable in her seat, yet trying not to fidget. In the end, she said, "It has to be me."

"Pardon?"

The master took in another breath, her expression breaking down until only a blank face remained. "I will do it. To leave this to someone else, to anyone else—I can't let Ma'am's efforts go to waste."

She heard that clearly, and she did not question it nor did she doubt the master. "Very well. Let us continue the discussion, then. Our target is one thousand flintlocks by July. June would be preferable, but I have confidence that my husband will not collapse easily."

Lips silently moving, the master's hand made little gestures. "That would take ten workshops, or twelve would be better to plan for if the weather does not cooperate with construction," she said, quiet but clear.

"Such a quick answer," she said lightly before continuing in her usual tone. "I thought the same. With the library now only short of furnishing and finishing touches, we may devote Mr Meyer and Mr Holzer to these war efforts. Once this is done, they can continue onto the workshops required for the gunpowder, and then artillery. There is also work to be done preparing Georgsdorf for expansion."

The master hesitated, then asked, "Georgsdorf?"

"Yes. It is about time we gave that settlement a name," she said, a touch of softness to her voice. "The library and academy are only the beginning. At the least, we shall need housing for those who would visit.

"However, such guests have broad interests. I did not wish to distract before the library's construction finished; now that it has, the next sizeable project shall be a theatre. A grand theatre. Something which excels at hosting not just plays, but musical performances and operas."

At this, the master truly was speechless, her mouth hanging open, breath stuck in her throat.

"I should say that the funding for this building will be coming via the academies, so it would not be quite as trivial to conceal your involvement. After the library, I am in no position to fund such a venture, so it is necessary to lean on the nobility. Or rather, with the library built, I have set the expectation, so it is necessary for the nobility to oblige. Not only this theatre, but I expect there will be need to manage many other constructions in the area."

With a little more time to think, the master found her voice and lightly asked, "So much to build, will we have enough men?"

She brought up her hand in a loose gesture. "That is, since I have proved the bank's competency, there should be no issue with financing these projects. Thus I have now put pressure towards land reforms. While the results may take time, if there is work, people will come."

For a long moment, the master simply stared at her guest. The fire's light glittered in her eyes. "Such work is my responsibility?" she quietly asked.

"Insomuch as you wish it to be. I have no reservations regarding your understanding of a city and would rather Georgsdorf grows in a reasonable manner, particularly as I imagine it would be ideal to plan out roads and canals at this time.

"At the same time, I do have other work that falls under your expertise. While I would have you commit to the war works, these other works, I am merely presenting them. I do not wish for you to take on too much work and your health suffers for it. Rather, if any of this work is of interest to you, then it is yours. If not, I shall find others."

The master bit her lip, then shook her head. "Ma'am teases me."

She chuckled, a light sound that lingered amongst the crackling fire. "The other work, then, is a continuation of rural works. Irrigation canals and roads. With the recent census, I would like to update and expand our earlier plans. After all, the land reforms rely on such roads, that we need to move tools to rural areas, and we need to bring back food. This movement of goods—and eventually people—is our goal."

Although the master listened, her gaze grew distant. In the silence which followed, she brought herself back, smile thin. "So there is the work in Georgsdorf and the rural works."

"Indeed. Whichever you wish to do, it is yours. That is, of course, only if you do wish to do any."

For a moment, the master's smile held a sadness. Only for a moment. "Ma'am is too kind—and not only to me."

"Too kind? I wonder," she said, her own smile growing thin.

Silence. The fire crackled, wind howled. The master's mouth quivered.

"Well, I have told Master Haartsen that which I wished to tell. If she has no further questions at this time, we may finalise the specifics in letters," she said, raising an eyebrow at the end.

The master bowed her head, then gave a small shake. "I'll carefully consider what Ma'am has said."

Before silence settled again, she shifted in her seat, bringing her that little closer to her host. "Eva, do you enjoy this work?"

At the sudden change in how she was addressed, the master froze up, but the gentle question quickly thawed her. "I wonder? It is… very different from what I used to do. My brother and I, we didn't have too much work, so I spent a lot of time… imagining. Your letters especially gave me so much to imagine."

"What I ask of you now, it doesn't?" she asked, tilting her head.

A nervous laugh slipped through the master's lips before she pressed them tightly shut. After a breath, she said, "It's a different kind of imagining. I used to imagine fantastical things that I knew would never be real. Now, when I imagine something, it's as if I can hold it in my hands. It has a weight."

Growing flustered at what she was saying, the master ended with an awkward smile.

Her guest smiled back with a kind of sadness. "Truly, I admired the beauty of your fantastical imaginings. It would be wonderful if you did not burden yourself with too much work and so could bring some of that beauty back into your work. In the end, the future I am working towards, I do not wish for it to be built on suffering. God is good. If we each may find our talents and nurture them, I am sure what we may achieve together is also good."

The master listened, her smile thin at some moments and distant at other moments, yet it never disappeared. Her hands clasped together, she gently nodded.

"I hope so too."

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