"While ensuring your family's status, dealing with pressure from neighboring nobles and the Royal Family's tax collectors, can you truly share all the output of your estate with the serfs who toil for you?"
Count Raymond opened his mouth, but found it difficult to offer an immediate, forceful rebuttal.
Under Murphy's calm analysis, the reforms he had been so proud of indeed seemed woefully inadequate.
Deep disappointment crept across the Count's face, along with a hint of embarrassment.
He leaned back in his chair, his once-straight back seeming to stoop slightly.
The air in the living room seemed to grow heavy and stagnant along with his sinking mood.
Aurora let out a soft sigh, so faint it was nearly inaudible.
Eleanor paused what she was doing, her dark eyes quietly observing her father, then shifting to the Count opposite them, who had suddenly lost his luster.
Just as the silence was about to become awkward, Murphy spoke again:
