My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 34

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 34
“It’s been a while.”
“You must be Miss Agnes, yes? My, how lovely you’ve become.”
“Thank you.”
“I received the items you had your steward send us last time — they’ve been invaluable! And the workers you provided have been such a help, I can’t say enough.”
“Where are they?”
Skilled laborers would stand out, their builds far more robust than the village folk.
Yet she saw no one matching that description.
“Ah, well… that is…”
Baren’s words faltered.
The man standing behind him glanced sidelong, as if testing the waters.
Agnes observed the subtle shift in their expressions with practiced precision.
“They’re occupied elsewhere at the moment!”
“I came to see how they were getting on.”
“They’re working some distance away. They’ll be back to the village by evening, surely.”
“Is there another communal field besides this one?”
“That’s… they’re digging irrigation channels! Spring’s here, you understand. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Why visit such a dreary place? The water’s foul and the stench is dreadful — you’d be most uncomfortable.”
“Well, perhaps.”
Standing rigid and motionless, Agnes drew attention to the sword at Baren’s hip.
“What’s that?”
“Ah, this?”
Baren tapped the blade lightly, almost playfully, as if showing it off.
“Truth be told, we’ve had quite a difficult time of it. As you know, these past five years no one’s come to see how we were faring, and the village grew restless.”
“I suppose they did.”
“There was talk of perhaps seeking shelter under House of Count Valdemar instead. Can you imagine?”
“Was there?”
“Of course, I insisted it was unthinkable — I reminded them of all the kindness we’ve received here over the years. But people, you understand… when they’re hungry and desperate, they grow rough. It’s only natural.”
His explanation flowed smoothly, as natural as water finding its course.
Had Agnes not just come from seeing the children, she might have felt sympathy for the village folk after hearing this account.
She nodded, as though accepting Baren’s words at face value.
“Has anyone actually used that blade?”
“Never. We merely brandished it as a warning.”
“And them?”
She gestured toward the people working in the field. Baren hesitated slightly, then shook his head.
“Certainly not! Why would we threaten common villagers? We’re simply armed in case some unforeseen trouble arises.”
“Well, then there’s nothing to be done about it.”
As Agnes appeared to accept Baren’s explanation, the two men exchanged a glance they thought unseen.
Agnes smiled brightly.
It was second nature to her now — so obvious it might as well have been written on their faces.
Two years of living under House of Count Valdemar’s roof, watching their every move.
She’d grown sick of hearing the servants and attendants whisper about her.
Grown familiar with their subtle schemes and petty deceptions.
“There is one more thing I’d like to check.”
“Of course. What would you have me do?”
“I need to see the communal storehouse. Give me the key. I want to verify how much of the grain and fruit I sent last time remains.”
Baren’s eyes flashed with dangerous light.
‘Which will it be?’ Agnes wondered silently.
She watched his reaction carefully.
‘Will he resist, or surrender it without protest?’
If the supplies had been distributed among the villagers, there would surely be much left. If not…
Even so, the discrepancy would be telling enough to investigate.
‘If it’s in his private storehouse, that’s embezzlement. If what I sent remains plentiful, I can distribute it to the villagers.’
After that, she could have Pavel and Ben oversee its management.
In the silence that followed, Baren’s eyes flickered to Ignitan, who stood behind Agnes.
He seemed to be taking the measure of his opponent.
Once his assessment was complete, Baren answered with the same easy, flowing smile.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Miss.”
“What?”
“You’re being too much yourself, aren’t you? How many years has it been since you looked in on us? Hmm? We’ve only just gotten things in order, and now you appear suddenly—besides, you’re not the Lord, are you?”
A few of the workers turned to glance at her.
Their eyes held a mixture of anxiety and distrust.
None of them trusted Agnes.
It made sense. Agnes had not protected them, only demanded their obligations.
Baren had exploited that gap.
“We’ve done our part! Even when times were hard, we paid our tenant tax every year. That’s only proper respect for a good Lord!”
“So you won’t give me the warehouse key?”
“If you inherit the title, Miss, then perhaps—we’ll see.”
“Is that so? If that’s how it is, then.”
Strangely, she felt no alarm.
Perhaps it was because Baren looked exactly as he had in childhood—the same boy she’d watched deceive adults with honeyed words.
But Agnes had received thorough education in inheriting the title even before her mother died.
She was no longer the thoughtless girl who played with Baren.
Agnes smiled lightly and spoke.
“Then I’ll have to take it by force.”
“You’re serious?”
“You think I came here knowing nothing? I had the Village investigated beforehand. I looked at what people eat, and the bread reeked of grass. The dampness of it—it wasn’t even the flour I sent. I ordered the finest to be delivered, and surely Alfred, of all people, wouldn’t deceive me.”
Only then did Baren’s composure slip, his brow twitching.
“And you think I’ll hand over the key after you inherit the title?”
Agnes fixed him with a cold stare.
“My father has been unable to perform his duties as Lord due to illness for five years now, and with my mother gone, I as the eldest daughter rightfully assume his authority. This is explicitly set forth in Imperial Law—where do you get the audacity to speak otherwise?”
“Miss, I’m not sure what you’re misunderstanding, but…….”
“I’ll confirm your innocence myself. Now give me the key.”
Baren, unprepared for such firmness from Agnes, clenched his teeth.
What he finally forced out was this:
“And if I don’t hand it over, what will you do?”
“Then at that point…….”
Agnes glanced sidelong at Ignitan standing behind her.
The single man she’d brought as her escort.
Naturally, he would assume he was a knight.
Baren lowered his head to hide his sinister face and drew the key from his pocket.
“This is…the warehouse key.”
The moment Agnes took it, she turned away from him and headed straight for the communal storehouse.
The warehouse was exactly as she’d expected.
Fine grain and fruit were stacked high in front of the door.
They looked untouched.
Inside the storehouse, damp flour and rotting fruit lay scattered about.
Agnes stared down at it all, her heart sinking.
The image of her younger sister came to mind.
‘Amy.’
I thought you’d brought me gold coins simply to help me.
‘If it weren’t for you, how many people would have died?’
I found it hard enough to manage a handful of mischievous children.
I ate whatever was placed before me at every meal and slept in comfort—why did I ever think that was difficult?
‘The villagers who were so kind to me were living on scraps like this all along.’
When she opened a small room where farming tools were stacked, she found valuables piled inside.
Weapons and purses of gold coins.
‘Giving people grass while lining his own pockets.’
He couldn’t have done it alone.
Filled with resentment toward herself and fury at Baren, Agnes stared down at the hoard before coming to a decision and leaving the storehouse.
“Ignitan. Bring Baren here.”
Soon Baren was bound in front of the warehouse.
The villagers watched from a distance.
They were careful, fearful of drawing the wrong kind of attention.
“Baren.”
“Why are you doing this? I merely conserved the generous supplies you provided!”
“There were weapons. What money did you use to buy them?”
“We had to defend ourselves!”
“Weapons are expensive. You need money for that, and this village has none to spare. What exactly did you sell? The bread from people’s mouths?”
“It’s hardly a fitting objection from someone who’s collected taxes every year, is it?”
Baren twisted his mouth, speaking with the same untroubled confidence as before.
“Do you have evidence? Isn’t all of this merely your speculation?”
“The workers told me. The plots they were tending—those are your four personal fields, aren’t they?”
“I only asked them to help because I needed to maintain the Village!”
“Enough.”
Agnes spoke with cutting finality.
“As your lord, I need only suspicion to interrogate you. Since there is reason to believe you failed to distribute the Lord’s provisions equally and instead embezzled them for personal gain, you will be brought to the Mansion tomorrow for questioning.”
At her glance, Ignitan stepped forward and bound Baren.
Then he shoved Baren into a small room attached to the side of the Warehouse and locked the door.
After that, Agnes opened the Warehouse to the villagers.
Whether from fear of retaliation, at first they hardly dared to approach.
But when Agnes gave the order, one by one they began accepting fresh grain and fruit.
That evening, a small celebration took place in the Village.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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