Her Majesty’s Secret Service

023. The Harvesting Queen

“Your Majesty, I do not quite understand what you are saying. Are you speaking in earnest right now?”

The queen, yet to undergo her coronation, what could she be thinking to come out so strongly?

Indeed, the queen was said to have been driven away at a young age and did not receive a proper education. Surely, she must not have understood her own rhetoric. That’s what the earl believed.

“If you did not understand my words, then allow me to explain in detail. It seems you plan to entangle me in treason using my cousin, Duke Henry of Suffolk, as a pretext. Go ahead, try it! Do you think the other nobles will just sit idly by? If they all rise up, do you think you will remain unharmed?

Whatever my relations with those fools may be, I have not directly infringed upon the royal domain! If you push a noble to treason over such a trivial matter, who would remain loyal to you?”

The earl’s face turned beet red, his neck veins bulging as if he was greatly agitated. There was a mix of confusion in his voice, not expecting the queen to come at him like this.

“With those words just now, the price of your life has increased. Everything except for the earldom of Kent and the manor in Bedfordshire, that is the price of your life. Will you accept it?”

“What… such outrageous words! Are you truly serious?”

“Do I look like I am jesting?”

Her reaction was entirely different from the other nobles he had encountered.

Unlike the others who would bow and seek a compromise, this queen, this woman, was different. There seemed to be no room for compromise.

Even her gaze was different. The queen’s eyes, unwavering, stared down the earl. They seemed to say there would be no compromise.

‘It’s true. She intends to kill me without a second thought. How could such a woman…!’

Memories from a distant past revived in the queen’s gaze.

—

Fifteen years ago, it was when I had begun to reclaim the lost fortune, bit by bit, and was finding my footing. Back then, in Dartford, there stood a monastery dedicated to the knightly order.

‘Burn it all, burn everything.’

The manor where the queen and the earl now stood was built upon the ashes of that burnt monastery.

I saw in the queen’s eyes the same command that Henry VIII had once given.

‘Madmen. Are all those of the Tudor lineage like this…!’

I had heard, before the birth of Edward VI, no, before the divorce from ‘Catherine of Aragon’, Henry VIII had cherished the current queen above all others.

The earl murmured to himself, finally understanding why.

Mary was the first queen in the history of England.

Many nobles doubted a woman could lead them as their sovereign. They did not serve her with true loyalty.

Mary must have been well aware of this fact.

To seize the nobility’s property before her coronation? There was bound to be resistance.

‘Even if the queen was unaware, those who serve her would not stand idly by. Then why? What does the queen believe in to take such a strong stance? No, that no longer matters. What use is it to me if the queen faces difficulty after my death?’

It was a lineage barely rebuilt. To spend my twilight years in peace in the reclaimed manor was my wish.

Better to be stripped of my wealth by a mad queen than to lose my life.

‘I shall offer half. Please, bestow your mercy.’

The earl’s voice, drained of strength, echoed through the room. The dim-witted looks of the two standing behind him were directed at the earl, their expressions betraying their inability to understand his weakened state.

At the earl’s words, akin to a declaration of surrender, the queen smiled contentedly and spoke softly.

‘Had you come forth like this sooner, how much better it would have been. You seek mercy, so I shall grant you my mercy. As compensation for this affair, you shall pass half of your wealth to the crown, and that half shall be sturdy timber fit for shipbuilding. And remember, this act is a ‘voluntary’ contribution to the royal house.’

‘I shall do as you command. Then, with that…’

‘Yes, I shall not trouble you further over this matter. Now, sign here.’

—

The Queen extended a document that was a pledge to relinquish half of her estate.

Trembling, the Earl signed the pledge with his seal. Then, he handed the document back to the Queen.

“…I shall take my leave now.”

No sooner had he returned the document than the Earl fled the Queen’s chamber, as if escaping. He feared she might change her mind and order his death at any moment.

Two merchants, borrowing the Earl’s name, hesitated before following him out.

“Logan, Marco. Come out now.”

As soon as the Earl and the merchants left, the Queen called out to two men who had been cunningly hiding in a corner of the room.

The Queen’s composed demeanor was entirely based on Logan’s advice.

“Logan, why did you advise me to feign composure? And why did the Earl surrender so meekly?”

The Queen was curious about the Earl’s easy forfeiture of his estate. She had thought that even if he brought his estate, it would not be a voluntary offering but rather something she would have to seize by accusing him of treason.

“Recall what the Earl said to Your Majesty.”

“That the nobles would not stand idly by? What of it?”

“People tend to become angry when they are at a disadvantage. Had Your Majesty raised your voice, the Earl would have thought you were intimidated by the nobles and would have refused to relinquish his estate, even at the cost of his life.”

At Logan’s words, the Queen nodded as if she understood.

“Indeed. By speaking leisurely, he realized I was not afraid of the nobles.”

“Moreover, judging by the Earl of Kent’s attire, he seemed quite frugal. After hearing Your Majesty’s words, I was certain. He was afraid of losing what he had.”

“Afraid? The Earl?”

“Yes. You said he had revived his family with his own hands. Could he bear to see the house he restored crumble in his own generation? So, he brought the document in advance, attempting to negotiate with Your Majesty. It was his way of asking to be allowed to leave.”

“And his attempt to deny any connection with the merchants?”

“Simple. He must have thought he could be implicated in treason. The Earl of Kent is Henry ‘Grey,’ isn’t he?”

The Queen silently recited the reason Sir Brian had taken Logan as his apprentice.

“You, truly have an exceptional mind.”

“Your praise is too generous.”

Upon reflection, this journey too had begun at Logan’s suggestion. Whatever the reason may have been.

Tracing back her memories, she recalled the incident with Jane. At that time, she thought Logan’s offhand remark had coincidentally been spot on, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.

It was purely Logan’s ability.

Now she saw, Logan was indeed a capable talent.

Not only in analyzing Sir Brian’s blueprints, but he seemed able to assist her in various ways.

Mary had thought of Logan as her own since he came bearing the blueprints to honor his promise with Brian.

However, she had limited Logan’s ability to assist her to making her mouth happy with his cooking, or interpreting Brian’s blueprints.

But the advice that flowed from Logan’s lips today made the Queen reconsider her thoughts about him.

Logan was different from Richard. Logan reminded her of what she had forgotten and prevented her from making mistakes. Above all, unlike the others, Logan achieved what she desired.

‘Come to think of it, I know very little about Logan.’

It was one of the Queen’s principles.

She had to know better than anyone about those she considered ‘subjects.’

Thus, the Queen began to take an interest in Logan. As a ‘subject.’

* * *

In the end, the Queen successfully extracted half of the Earl’s estate.

Sir Richard, who returned late, turned pale upon hearing the news. However, seeing the Earl’s signature on the document voluntarily donating the estate to the royal family, his complexion returned.

“This time, Logan and Marco, you both played a significant role. Is there anything you desire?”

After finishing the story with Sir Richard, the queen turned to me and Marco. I asked if I could speak up next time I wanted something, and the queen nodded in agreement.

But it seemed Marco had a different favor to ask.

“Um… Your Majesty, if so, please grant me just one favor.”

* * *

Marco’s request was to help with the harvest. The merchants, using the count’s name, had committed such villainy that the harvest could not be completed on time.

“Such a thing, what could possibly be the problem?”

Upon hearing Marco’s request, the queen immediately summoned soldiers and headed to the fields.

And now, the procession led by the queen had arrived at the farmlands outside Dartford Castle.

“Your Majesty! Why come to such a humble place…!”

The one making a fuss upon seeing the queen was George, Marco’s cousin. Said to be the tallest in Dartford, he looked to be 5-6cm taller than me, probably around 180cm tall.

“Good heavens! Her Majesty has graced us with her presence!”

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!”

Cries for the queen echoed from the peasants all around. This was the field located outside the castle.

“Are you George, Marco’s relative?”

“Yes… Yes, Your Majesty. It is a great honor to meet you and also… also…”

“There’s no need for such formalities. I understand your heart well enough. I heard you’ve had a hard time. The harvest has been delayed, hasn’t it?”

“Your Majesty, to have you concern yourself with us, I am simply overwhelmed and also…”

“Enough with the formalities, haven’t I said so? I’ve heard about your situation from Marco. Looking at the fields, I can imagine the hardship you’ve been through. Unable to harvest such well-ripened wheat… Worry not, I have come to help you.”

At the queen’s words, all the peasants wore puzzled expressions. How could the queen help them?

But that thought did not last long.

—

The soldiers who came with the queen began to move. Each wielding a sickle, they started to harvest the wheat that had yet to be reaped.

As the queen’s soldiers unexpectedly began to help with the harvest, the peasants shouted her name over and over.

They had thought they would miss the harvest season, but with the queen’s soldiers aiding them, it seemed they might just manage to harvest in time.

Near the field, under the cool shade of a tree, the queen watched her soldiers and the peasants harvesting. The smiles on the peasants’ faces showed no signs of leaving.

“Logan, was there ever such a king in your land?”

“You bring it up so suddenly, what do you mean…?”

“I mean just that. Was there ever a king who thought of the peasants like this in your country?”

Was she boasting about being a sage monarch, or why else would she ask me such a thing?

Perhaps she thinks I know well the affairs of royalty since I claimed to be of noble descent. Or maybe it’s just curiosity about the royal families of the East.

“Hmm… I’m not sure what you’ll think, but where I come from, we tended to the farms ourselves.”

“What? The kings? Themselves?”

“Yes. There was a royal plot set aside, and they would farm it themselves.”

I gave off the impression that I had seen it myself, though it was actually something I had heard.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t a lie. The royal family of Joseon did indeed hold such events.

“Hmm… The king’s duty is to govern the nation. Why would he take the peasants’ work of farming upon himself?”

“Well, to govern, mustn’t one understand the people?”

At the queen’s question, I blurted out a plausible answer I had picked up somewhere. Hearing my words, the queen seemed to ponder for a moment before stepping out from under the shade and approaching the field.

I couldn’t just stand by while the queen moved, so I followed her.

And upon arriving at the field, the sight of the queen left everyone speechless.

“Why do you look so surprised? Is there any reason I can’t help with the harvest?”

—

The queen grasped the sickle.