The Path to Lordship Begins in the North

Governor Linde didn't even bother to come out of the city to greet him, let alone come over.

The person in charge muttered under his breath, "As expected, the nobles from the borderlands don't know any manners."

Greya spoke up to remind them, "After all, we broke our promise and didn't arrive on the agreed date."

After the entire convoy was settled, Greya met Lind in the small mansion.

Although Greya found it hard to believe that this ordinary mansion was actually the governor's administrative office and rest area, it was not even as large as a section of Doug Castle.

"You have broken your promise, lady of the Nightingale Opera."

Linde didn't hold back in criticizing Greya: "You have disappointed my people. They were really looking forward to your performance, and many of them even took time off work just to see you."

This was the first time Greya had ever heard a nobleman say that his displeasure stemmed from disappointing his people, but she maintained her composure and asked, "Your Excellency, do you expect me to perform an opera for your people, rather than for you and your noble friends?"

"No, I don't understand opera, and neither does my wife."

This was the first time Greya had ever felt so embarrassed. Only then did Greya remember that the governor's wife here was the infamous disgrace of the royal family. Greya had once had the honor of seeing her at the Nightingale Opera House. Every time, she would sit in the front row and sleep peacefully, which caused considerable psychological trauma to the other performers. They once thought that their performances were too boring, but later they learned that she had bought tickets specifically to catch up on sleep.

Linde made no secret of his lack of artistic talent: "However, out of respect, I still asked my subordinates about it. Isn't your opera supposed to be an art form 'for the masses'? What, in reality, your opera can only be performed for nobles?"

"Of course not. My dream is that everyone, whether commoner, nobleman, or prince, can enjoy my performance. This time will be no different. My performance will be free of charge. All you need to do is provide the venue."

Greya then added, "Besides, the merchants along the way have already donated a lot of money, so I feel embarrassed to charge you any more."

“A businessman is a businessman, and I am me. I will pay you according to the standard. This is not a charity performance; you are invited to perform, and all the scripts need to be reviewed by me, understand?”

Free things are always the most expensive, and even if the other party doesn't resort to underhanded tactics, Lind doesn't want to owe them anything.

But when the person in charge next to him heard that Lin De wanted to review the script, he was unhappy.

"You are infringing on our freedom to perform."

"Freedom cannot be above the law!"

Perhaps because it was late, Linde was in a bad mood. In addition, there were all sorts of rumors in the capital that Linde and Lena ate two children at every meal. With just one look, the person in charge was frozen in his seat and dared not say another word.

"I understand, I will follow your procedures."

Greya didn't mind much and simply nodded in agreement. There was nothing shameful about her script. Although she had originally intended to make sarcastic remarks about the legendary devil viscount, those plays had now been deleted.

The first meeting between the two parties was not pleasant, but Greya was still satisfied. It had been a long time since she had encountered such nobles. They were completely in accordance with the rules, which made Greya feel very comfortable. There were no balls or social engagements, and no one wanted to climb into her bed. All she had to do next was prepare for the performance.

The gray-collar workers were extremely efficient, and the next day Greya received a notice that she could prepare for the performance, which was to be held in an open space.

Although the Nightingale Opera House wasn't entirely satisfied, Lind had paid for it after all, and the weather the next day was fairly good. Although it was a bit cold, the presence of hand warmers meant everyone treated it as an outdoor training session.

Linde even granted half a day off that day, and it's estimated that most people, except for those on essential posts, would come to watch the performance.

Actually, Linde didn't really want to turn it into an open-air performance, but building a large theater that could accommodate so many people in a short time was not impossible, but rather too wasteful.

"Ms. Greya, my brother and I are your fans!"

As soon as she stepped outside, Greya encountered a group of enthusiastic fans on the street. Although they weren't exactly blocking her way, they were just excitedly shouting.

The servants were used to this situation and walked ahead of Greya to clear the way.

But this time, Greya walked up to the girl with the flushed face and asked, "Do you need an autograph?"

"Yes, I want it!"

Sharon probably didn't expect to get an autograph. She frantically searched her pockets and then excitedly handed over her notebook.

Greya took the notebook, looked at the lesson plans inside, and asked curiously, "Are you a teacher?"

“You’ve only just taken office, but my brother and I were already your fans back in the capital.”

Sharon tugged at Barlow beside her, but Barlow just nodded silently, his hands still nervously fidgeting, unsure of what to do.

"Did you come from the capital?"

After signing, Greya handed the notebook back.

"Yes, we came here because we couldn't make a living in the capital."

A girl who can teach in a gray-white-collar job is considered an intellectual in the capital. How could she not make a living? Moreover, the girl's brother looks like a professional. Only someone like him could afford to send his daughter to school and let her watch his performances. This couple is not only extremely wealthy in the capital, but they certainly won't have any problems surviving.

Having keenly noticed this, Greya asked, "Why can't you make a living in the capital?"

"Because of sores."

Barlow took over Sharon's answer, and seeing his idol deep in thought, Barlow added, "The main symptoms are coughing up blood, sores, and pus."

Greya suddenly realized that the strange disease that appeared in the capital city already had a special name in the Gray and White Collar community. In fact, most of the funds raised by Greya in this charity performance were for the treatment of children in the capital city suffering from this sore.

"Did someone in your family get sores?"

Seeing how energetic the brother and sister were, Greya tentatively asked them a question.

"It's me, but I'm all better now. When I went to church for a check-up last time, the nun said I don't need to come anymore."

After Sharon finished speaking, she rolled up her sleeves, revealing her smooth skin.

"The scars are completely gone now."

Greya instinctively stroked Sharon's arm and asked incredulously, "This sore can actually be cured?"

I've heard that some members of the royal family have contracted this sore, but so far there's no good way to cure it except with holy water, and even holy water can't completely cure it—unless you drink it like water.

Before the brother and sister could speak, Lucanos's voice came from beside Greya: "It's possible, but if the erosion is too severe, it may leave indelible scars."

Everyone was startled, and even the guards around Greya nervously picked up their weapons and pointed them at Lucanus.

But Lucanus said completely unconcerned, "Don't keep your audience waiting too long, Ms. Nightingale."

"terribly sorry."

Greya clutched her chest, still shaken. At that distance, a single stab could have killed her instantly. Had she asked something she shouldn't have?

"Don't be nervous. Sores are no secret among us. I'm just here to urge you. After all, the people know that our governor is a descendant of the old empire, so it's normal for him to have some medicine left over from the old empire."

"Let's go, Lady Nightingale, don't keep my master waiting too long."