When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 510: Plenty of Strength and Means
Lying on the bed, Horn looked at the floral curtains for nearly ten minutes.

This is his habit when he wakes up every morning, recalling and reviewing recent gains and losses.

A week has passed since Ludwick left. If nothing is wrong, they should have boarded the ship to Kasha County by now.

If things go even more smoothly, their internal vote can be completed before the Lunar New Year.

After receiving Ludwig's handwritten letter, Martin, as the contact person, can sign the "Sacred Axis Covenant" as the plenipotentiary representative.

I just don't know how the Qianhe Valley Church will react.

Horn rubbed the boogers in his eyes and flicked them away, then turned sideways and got up from the bed.

The masonry walls are paneled with wood, a heavy walnut wardrobe sits near the bed, and the skirting is covered with wavy, streamlined carved tiles.

This is Horn's residence in Jeanne d'Arc, which was originally the villa where the Duke of Kush had secret meetings with his lover.

Later, after being renovated by the Salvation Army and a series of convenient facilities were added, it became Horn's residence.

Stepping barefoot on the carpet, Horn walked to the window and turned on the faucet embedded in the wall.

The water rushed down, and he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it on his face to drive away the remaining sleepiness.

This day last year, he was still washing his face with cold water from the stream.

But now, I can stand on the warm carpet and wash in front of the marble sink.

However, this brass water pipe is not some clockwork high-tech thing. It is not automatic and is entirely manual.

Horn installed a water tank on the third floor, and the gendarmes used a pulley to lift water up and pour it into the tank every day.

Then add water purification agents and slime gel to disinfect and condense the sediment, and you have a modern "tap water" system.

After drying his face, putting on his clothes and shoes, Horn opened the bedroom door.

"Hmm~"

As soon as the door opened, a cool breeze blew across Horn's face with a charming and lazy hum.

In the corridor, Catherine was yawning with her little crimson mouth wide open.

She was wearing a silk nightgown that reached down to her calves, with her hands crossed and stretched out from behind her head, her slender white fingers lifting up a few strands of burgundy curly hair.

As she straightened her back, Catherine's chest showed a distinct arc line, and her nightgown was tight on her body, as if something would jump out of the skirt at any second.

Because of the two lumps of flesh, the hem of the nightgown was even pulled to the knees.

"Good morning."

Catherine leaned forward and almost rolled down the stairs.

Horn quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her over: "Look at the road, look at the road, why do you look like you haven't woken up yet."

"Why did you get up so early today?" Catherine hurriedly pulled the clothes stuck under her southern hemisphere straight, and a few pink flowers floated faintly from the tips of her ears.

"As if you know when I usually get up." Horn said with a smile, "I usually get up at this time. You are an elderly person and I understand that you need to sleep more."

"Old people?!" Catherine stared with blue veins on her forehead. She bit her lip and forced herself to suppress her anger.

Anyway, it’s the last day! The last day…

Unlike the Horn siblings, Catherine loves to sleep in and wakes up at nine or ten o'clock every day.

She woke up at just after six today because she had finished her training and political observation in the Papal States and was about to return to Rapid City with a group of people.

The departure date is today at noon.

She will return with the first barges carrying supplies.

Today, there are fourteen inland barges docked on the Jeanne d'Arc Canal, loaded with nearly 300 tons of mortar, grain, bricks and timber.

This number of barges is far from enough.

So Horn placed shipbuilding orders with both Little Pond and Rapids City, totaling 36 inland barges with a displacement of 30-50 tons, for a total of 5200 gold pounds.

Joan of Arc had no shipyard, no shipbuilding guild or related technology, and could only import it from outside.

In the future, the Ibe and Nauan rivers will be filled with merchant ships carrying food, building materials and sugar.

With such extensive river channels, it is really unreasonable that Qianhe Valley is so poor despite its convenient river conditions.

Horn even considered widening the river to divert some water from Daze Township.

Horn, holding the carved stairs and walking down with his head down, did not notice Catherine's increasingly complicated look behind him.

Before reaching the first floor, Horn smelled the rich aroma of food in the air.

Going down the stairs is the restaurant on the first floor, where Almen and a few child soldiers are setting out the food plates.

Since the Duke's utensils were either sold for military pay or put away for banquets, even Horn used earthenware bowls and pewter plates.

"It smells so good, what are you doing?" Horn just came down the stairs and smelled the scent, turned a corner and went into the kitchen on the other side.

Next to the first-floor restaurant, Horn tore down the walls and replaced them with mortared stone columns to create an open kitchen.

The kettle on the fireplace was boiling hot water, and the pottery pot was emitting an attractive aroma, while Jeanne, wearing a triangular scarf on her head, was busy with several child soldiers. Jeanne had returned from practicing breathing and horse riding, and even had time to take a bath.

"Stewed offal in a pot, fried vegetable and meat patties, and, yes, rice crackers and potato porridge, your invention." Jeanne flipped the meat patties without even looking up.

"Is there anything I can do?" Standing in the middle of the kitchen with his stomach bulging, Horn picked up a spatula and said, "I'll help you."

"Are you sure?" Jeanne squinted at him. "Then pour the chopped celery into the stew pot. I can't spare my hands."

Coming to the stove, looking at the identical green fragments in two plates, Horn fell into deep thought.

"Can you recognize which one it is?"

Horn hesitated for half a second and pointed at one of them: "This one?"

Catherine, who was standing next to him, couldn't stand it anymore. She took off her apron from the wall and poured another plate of chopped vegetables into the jar: "Let me help you."

"I originally wanted to choose this, but I hesitated at the last second." Horn shook his head in annoyance, turned around and went back to the restaurant.

But he just walked out of the kitchen and came back: "You two should get along well. It's the last day. Don't fight."

"understood."

"Do not worry."

The two of them answered in unison, and then began to work together.

"Is the can fire too big?"

"Not big, this is just right."

Although it was just a normal conversation, the other kids in the kitchen felt a chill on the back of their necks.

"Pass me the butter."

"Okay, do you want some honey?"

"Need not."

"No need for honey... okay."

"This is porridge, it doesn't need honey, why don't you add cheese to it."

"That's just what I said. Don't be so angry." Putting down the jar of honey, Catherine raised her hands, still with an elegant and warm smile on her face.

Jeanna snorted, opened the pot of stewed offal and sniffed it: "Okay, we can heat it up for lunch or dinner... What are you going to express your opinion about?"

"I didn't say anything."

"I felt it in your eyes."

"This is ridiculous, are you Meliati?"

"What Meliati?" Jeanne frowned.

Knowing that she had let out her best friend's spell, Catherine cleared her throat and quickly changed the subject: "I don't understand, there isn't such a big conflict between us, right? Why do we have to confront each other?"

"You were first."

"When I first met you, I was very friendly. We are both witches. I can't understand why you excluded me right away."

"Because you're always like this, and like this."

Seeing Jeanne awkwardly imitating her movements, Catherine frowned in thought, then couldn't help laughing: "...Ah, I see. Do you think I'm seducing your Majesty?"

Jeanna's face flushed, but she was still stubborn: "It has nothing to do with my brother. I just can't stand your young lady behavior."

"That wolf girl behaves much more like a lady than I do. How come you don't hate her?"

Jeanne said nothing, but stirred the offal in the clay pot.

Compared to the shrewd old aunt Catherine, the seventeen-year-old Jeanne is already able to look down on the battlefield and has "the mind and wisdom of a beast" (Horn's comment).

In terms of personal emotions, she is still as saintly as before, and even has a bit of the flavor of an ignorant girl.

She actually felt something was wrong intuitively, but if you asked her to give a reason, she couldn't say it.

"I value our friendly relationship very much. Witches must not fight among themselves. At least for now, I have no interest in your brother." It was the last day, and Catherine decided to solve this problem. She took Jeanne's hand and took the initiative to speak.

"……real?"

"How about this, to prove it, I'll teach you some tricks." Looking at Jeanna's clear eyes, Catherine couldn't help but have a bad idea in her heart, "I promise you can control him, how about that?"

"What means?"

Picking up the honey jar beside her, Catherine smiled evilly, leaned close to Jeanne's ear, and uttered a series of words lightly and quickly.

Jeanna's face suddenly turned red: "Shameless! I won't...shameless!"

After cursing, she turned around and stirred the potato root and rice porridge vigorously.

(End of this chapter)