The morning had reached the surface of the earth, bringing a refreshing start for Milena Ferlin to start a lovely breakfast. She set out a golden toasted bread, fluffy scrambled eggs, and an avocado spread to crown off the toast.
"Alena!" Her voice echoes the cottage as she peeked upstairs.
She glanced through the window kitchen, her mouth shifting to a smirk.
Granny Dawn is in the middle of the yard, chasing a chicken on the loose. Holding on to her weary back trying to corner the rebellious chicken.
Milena chuckles as she places the food in the dining table. She then went out from the kitchen door. "Granny Dawn, if you let that chicken wander alone, it'll find it's way home!" She called out teasingly.
The old woman turned around, pressing one hand to her tiring back as she huffed. "This hen is worth 230 Virans! I must take my money's worth."
Milena shook her head as she stepped back in the cottage, she found drowsy Alena approaching the chair—yawning and lazy.
"What did you make?" Alena mumbles, dragging herself to sit.
"Avocado toasts, Miss Alena. Something else to complain?" She smirks.
"Nothing else to complain, except that I am starving!"
"Alright, dear." Milena passes the plate to her younger cousin. "But before we eat—Granny Dawn!" She calls out toward the yard, waving.
Finally, the old lady decided to gave up the tiring chase, dragging herself back to the cottage, out of breath. The smell of fresh toast welcomed her as she sat down next to Alena with a sigh.
"Finally!" Alena cheerfully grins.
Dawn drank plenty of water, and shook her head as soon as she finished her glass. "That hen has more energy than I do."
Both Milena and Alena giggles as the three of them took a grateful bite of their breakfast and the peaceful moment lasted until Milena spoke.
"Granny I must visit the orphanage later."
Dawn raised a brow.
"And... Alena wants come along too."
Alena, mid-bite froze shifting her head to Dawn, showing a hangdog smile.
Dawn sighs. "You may go—but only if you finish gathering the crops." Dawn turned her head to Alena. "However, Alena won't go, you must finish your home works that are due tomorrow."
Alena groaned rolling her eyes to Milena who is flashing a grin with tease.
Later on that day, Milena sat along the rows of cabbages, harvesting each one of them. She grabs one cabbage and was about to put it in her basket—when suddenly she noticed that there were black spots.
She blinks faster as she pulls another one. Dark spots. All cabbages in the row. This cannot be happening.
Some cabbages are in good condition, but only this row of crops weren't.
She stood up tilting her head while clicking her tongue.
"Milena!" A male voice called out from behind.
She turned and it is Gilbert, a farmer who works for Ferlin Farm, called her—running in such hurry that it made Milena's brow furrow. "Why in such hurry uncle?"
"The potatoes..." Gilbert catches his breath before saying another word. "Carrots, and other crops had gone bad."
Her thoughts processed on choosing her words. "Well, some cabbages had gone bad too. How is it possible" her voice trembled in uncertainty.
Gilbert shook his head in disbelief. "The farm is certainly facing crisis."
Milena ran her fingers through her hair out of frustration. "This couldn't be happening. No." She murmured under her breath.
"Milena, the duke's men are expecting shipments today. We must focus ourselves to start sorting out to get rid of the bad harvest."
"Of course." She gave a composed nod and her eyes raced through the distant field.
"We cannot afford delays, Milena." Gilbert softens his tone. "His grace will be disappointed again."
Deep in thought, something had came to Milena's mind. She realize that writing a letter of concern to his grace may be the solution for this crisis.
Later that day, Milena sat on her study—holding a pen and placing the paper on top of the wooden table, then she writes:
To his grace, Duke de Venstein,
We regret to inform you that our latest harvest has suffered from sudden spoilage. The cause is currently unknown, but we are already taking actions on this matter.
It would be grateful if your grace summons an expert to investigate this crisis. In the meantime, we commit to give greater shipments for the following days to make up our loss.
Respectfully,
Ferlin Farm, Provisioning Company
Milena finally finishes up her letter. She poured all her effort to a mere paper—yet it felt heavy knowing this will be sent off the the duke. But once she folded the paper, her mind went on ease, and the concerns weighted lighter.
Soon, once thee letter has been sent, this will mark the beginning of the turmoil that would reshape her fate.