Chapter 251

Gervas did not wake naturally today—he was forcibly powered on.

As he listened to the beeping in his mind and felt the gentle pecks on his cheek, Gervas slowly opened his eyes.

As expected, it was Goldmine.

Ever since this little thing had experienced the charm of Chef Rose's cooking,

and been granted permission by Gervas to dine with him in the dining hall, it came to his room every morning.

Not for any other reason—just to wake him up early.

"Little one, do you have to be this punctual every day?"

Of course, the little thing had its limits—it never woke Gervas at the crack of dawn.

Only when Gervas overslept past his usual hour did it feel compelled to rouse him.

But Gervas had stayed up late last night with Chef Rose… cough, wrong—training, purely training—so he rose late.

Goldmine gazed at Gervas with pitiful, wide eyes.

Chirp chirp! (But I'm hungry!)

"Fine, I give in to you!"

Gervas sighed helplessly, remembering he'd long been scheming to win its "heart," and pulled the bell cord by his bedside.

As the bell rang outside the door, it swung open.

Two graceful figures glided in.

"Good morning, Lord Gervas!"

"Good morning, Lord Gervas!"

After feasting his eyes, Gervas's mood lifted.

"Good morning, Caroline, and Maid Freya!"

Then the maids began dressing and washing Gervas.

As he breathed in Freya's faint, sweet fragrance, Gervas felt a pang of nostalgia.

The Silver Moon Tribe's ransom party was about to arrive, meaning he'd likely never again smell this maid's pleasant body scent.

"Maid Freya, if you return home one day, will you miss me, your lord?"

In the past, Freya would have scoffed without hesitation: "Impossible."

But after nearly a month in this castle, she'd grown less resistant.

Not because she'd grown addicted to being a maid, or thought life here better than in the tribe.

But because she'd realized Gervas wasn't as terrible as the tribe's heirs had claimed.

For instance, though Gervas punished Caroline every morning and seemed like a lecherous noble,

he'd never once acted improperly toward her, a captive.

Moreover, through daily interactions with other servants, she'd overheard many servants privately praising Gervas.

Like how Gervas never beat or scolded servants, nor exploited serfs.

In fact, he treated servants and serfs with great kindness.

Compared to other nobles, Gervas was undoubtedly a kind noble.

Though the ones praising Gervas were humans, Freya herself now agreed he was a good man.

If they weren't enemies, Freya thought she might even admire this noble.

"What? Freya, you actually miss me, your lord? Then why not become my maid for life!" Gervas exclaimed in surprise.

"No way! Lord Gervas, I'm only your captive now—once I'm ransomed back to the tribe, I'll never set foot in Stormhold again!"

Freya snapped back to reality and launched a counterattack.

After all, if Gervas knew she'd hesitated, he'd surely mock her.

"Really? I almost thought you'd miss me! Tsk tsk, you've wasted my excitement!" Gervas shook his head, feigning disappointment.

"By the way, Freya, since you've been obedient lately, I'll give you some good news early: your Silver Moon Tribe's ransom party will likely arrive in Stormhold today!"

"This…" Freya trembled, freezing in place.

Seeing this, Gervas assumed the Silver Moon Princess was overjoyed and left her alone.

Having finished washing, Gervas carried out his usual punishment of Caroline, then headed to the dining hall with Goldmine.

There, he enjoyed breakfast while listening to reports from the civil administrator and the castle steward.

Over the past ten days, thanks to the large sum of money received from Viscount Parker's domain, Gervas had made two major plans for Stormhold.

First, Gervas intended to form a cavalry unit.

That day's light cavalry had been annihilated,

but only because his intelligence network allowed him to prepare in advance.

What if next time it was a sudden ambush—with no intelligence?

The chance was small, but Gervas had to prepare for the worst.

Moreover, in this age of cold weapons, cavalry was an essential force for any great family's rise.

So a cavalry unit capable of direct combat had to be formed.

Besides cavalry, the other plan was to invest funds in expanding the shipyard and order the construction of a naval academy by the sea.

Though Gervas currently owned few ships, ships could be bought with money—but loyal sailors couldn't be bought so easily.

So he'd act preemptively: establish a naval academy first, then find a few seasoned navigators trained in the system.

In the future, Stormhold would continuously produce qualified sailors.

"My lord, I've finished today's administrative report!"

"My lord, I have too!"

As Gervas nearly finished breakfast, Thomas and Old John completed their reports.

Clearly, both had put in effort—daily reports never exceeded Gervas's mealtime.

"Then it's my turn to assign today's tasks!"

"Thomas, go to the village immediately and gather the townsfolk—I'll personally hold a knight assessment soon!"

"Those knight squires who pass will be formally knighted!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Old John, have the servants and kitchen prepare—today, at least eight nobles will visit Stormhold; we must receive them properly!"

Old John blinked. "My lord, why are they visiting you?"

Old John's question was deliberate—knowing their purpose allowed proper arrangements.

Whether it was a birthday banquet, a celebration, or a simple social gathering.

And eight or more nobles? That was unusual.

This required careful handling.

"Treat it as a routine visit—but raise the protocol. Catherine will come too; she's a countess after all."

Gervas hadn't expected so many nobles to suddenly visit.

Catherine, he assumed, came to check on him.

But the others?

Were they also checking on him?

He didn't think their relationship with him was that close.