The panel blinked again immediately.

[(￣ー￣)

Kilogram in your world.

So, roughly—

1 Libra Guild = 1 Kilogram.)]

Lucas fell silent for a moment.

"…Wow," he said flatly. "You're starting to sound like a responsive premium chatbot now."

[(#｀皿´)

HEYYY—!!]

Lucas gave a thin grin.

"Sulking."

He leaned back deeper into the chair.

"…So, when do I need to replant?"

The panel appeared without delay.

[(￣▽￣)

Relax.

Those are high-quality tomatoes.

No replanting needed for the next six months.)]

Lucas straightened up at once.

"…What?"

[(￣ー￣)

Six. Months.)]

"…That good?" Lucas went quiet, then let out a relieved breath.

"Damn. This is seriously profitable."

He clicked his tongue softly.

"If I'd known, I would've planted more from the start."

[(￣ω￣)

King…

Don't tell me you've been worrying about replanting this whole time,

which is why you haven't exchanged PP for more tomato seedlings?)]

Lucas looked away.

"…Yeah."

[(;￣Д￣)

Wow. So dumb.)]

Lucas clicked his tongue.

"Great, you're back to annoying chatbot mode."

The panel paused for a moment, then reappeared with a deliberately calm tone.

[(￣ー￣)✧

King.

That trait of yours is good.

Disciplined.

Thinking ahead.)]

Then—

[(▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

But that's also your weakness.]

Lucas let out a long sigh.

"…Ugh. Fine then."

---

The next morning—

Lucas stepped out of his room with light strides. His face looked refreshed. His mood was clearly different.

"Harvest," he muttered quietly. There was a hint of excitement in his voice.

The moment he stepped into the front courtyard—

He immediately saw Liona.

She stood straight, her face bright, almost radiant. Beside her, Silvara stood as usual, relaxed and composed.

But what made Lucas pause—

An open-roof horse-drawn carriage was parked neatly in the courtyard.

The baskets from yesterday—twenty-four of them—were already arranged neatly in the back.

Lucas yawned.

"…Wow. Whose carriage is this?"

Silvara immediately smacked her palm against her forehead.

"The Voss family's, obviously."

Lucas frowned.

"Hey, I mean—"

"—Ssst," Silvara cut him off at once, her voice low.

Lucas covered his mouth, realizing his slip.

Before he could say anything else—

"Lucian."

The Baroness appeared from the side.

She approached Lucas and gently patted his shoulder, as she always did. To the world, he was still Lucian Voss—no one knew otherwise except Liona and Silvara.

"My son," the Baroness said softly. "Don't be sad."

Lucas frowned.

…What now? he thought.

The Baroness continued, her face full of sympathy.

"I've already tried persuading Matruska, but she still refuses to marry you."

Lucas stared straight ahead, expression flat.

…Oh. This.

The Baroness let out a small sigh.

"There are still many young women out there. You don't need to cling to your feelings for Matruska who is… about the same age as me."

Lucas blinked.

Wait. Hold up. Same age?

The thought crossed his mind—then Matruska's face flashed before him.

Lucas immediately decided not to think about it any further.

He turned back to the Baroness, putting on Lucian's familiar expression—irritated, messy, half-rebellious.

"I know. That's enough," he said quickly. "I'm going to harvest now."

The Baroness gave a small smile and patted his shoulder once more.

She nodded… and, as usual, slipped some pocket money into his hand.

"Don't push yourself too hard," she said before leaving.

Lucas glanced briefly at the money.

…Remarkably consistent.

Once the Baroness had gone—

Lucas turned around.

Silvara and Liona were already struggling to hold back their laughter.

"…Don't laugh," Lucas said flatly.

He then pointed toward the baskets.

"Liona. Take one small basket."

Silvara turned to him.

"For what?"

"For Healer Mae later," Lucas replied shortly. "You were the one who said yesterday that we should give her some."

Silvara nodded slowly.

"…You seem like the type of man who keeps his word."

Liona immediately picked up a small basket, holding it carefully in her arms.

Lucas and Silvara then climbed into the passenger seat of the open carriage.

Lucas sat down… then glanced around.

"…Where's the driver?"

Before Silvara could answer—

Liona appeared at the front, holding the reins.

"M–me!" she said quickly, her tone brimming with enthusiasm. "I'll drive it!"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added,

"I—I can do it!"

Without waiting for further permission, Liona climbed into the driver's seat and urged the horse forward.

The carriage began to move.

From behind Lucas, Liona's face looked exceptionally bright —far too bright for an ordinary harvest day.

Lucas glanced forward.

"…Why do you look so happy today?"

Liona turned her head slightly, her smile wide.

"Riding a horse has been my dream since I was little."

She let out a small laugh.

"I've tried a few times before, but I was never allowed to do it for long… because I'm a maid."

She gently adjusted the reins.

"Even though this is just an ordinary carriage, I'm happy… because today, I get to ride it back and forth."

Lucas fell silent.

He smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly.

She really does seem like a different person now, he thought. Hope she doesn't speed up or pull the brake suddenly, he added silently in his mind.

---

They arrived at the field not long after.

Just as Lucas had expected—

Mae was already there with Lina. Geralt stood at the edge of the field, while Anya stood straight a short distance away. Beside Geralt, a middle-aged woman, Elin—Geralt's wife.

The moment the carriage came to a stop, everyone turned to look.

Lucas got down first.

"All right," he said shortly, clapping his hands once. "We start the harvest."

He pointed toward the rows of tomato plants.

"Pick the fruit one by one. Don't pull. Twist gently, detach it from the stem. Any that are cracked or overripe, set them aside."

His tone was calm and clear. No unnecessary words.

Liona, Mae, Lina, and Geralt immediately nodded and took their baskets without much comment.

Elin turned to Anya, her demeanor changing at once.

"Anya," she said in a typical motherly tone, "don't run around. Don't step on the plants. Listen to the Young Master—don't act foolish."

"Y-yes, Mother," Anya replied quickly.

Elin let out a sigh, then went into the field herself and began harvesting with practiced hands.

As soon as her mother walked away, Anya's eyes grew slightly watery.

Lucas noticed.

He took a basket, walked over to Anya, and bent down slightly so they were at eye level.

"Hey," he said lightly. "We still need one guard to keep an eye on the surroundings."

Anya flinched.

"Huh…?"

"You," Lucas continued. "You're the best fit."

Anya swallowed.

"Y-yes…" she answered softly, her body trembling slightly—not from fear, but from nervous pride.

Lucas straightened up, then turned to Silvara.

"You're harvesting too."

Silvara clicked her tongue at once.

"I have to join as well?"

Lucas let out a quiet sigh.

"Come on. Your sword is still broken, right? What are you going to guard without a sword?"

Silvara fell silent.

Before she could respond—

Anya suddenly moved, quickly picking up a branch from the ground and standing straight.

She raised the branch forward, imitating a knight's stance.

"Anya— Iron Knight reporting for duty!" she declared loudly.

Lucas chuckled.

He raised a thumbs-up.

"Good."

Then he glanced at Silvara with a faint smile.

"All right. Go harvest for now, Lady Silver."

He casually pointed at Anya.

"Today, the Iron Knight will be on duty."

Anya's eyes immediately lit up.

Her nose flared slightly, her chest lifting with pride.

Lucas raised one finger.

"And today, we only need one knight."

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