"I am Margaret of Crevice Fort. My husband, Johnny, my eldest son, and my youngest son who just moved out, all answered your summons and went to war with you."
Her words were intermittent, but she tried to keep them clear.
"Only my fifteen-year-old youngest son, Thomas, and I are left at home. There are no adult males at home, but the land is our root, and I dare not let it lie fallow."
"However, the houses in our former village were distributed to the refugees for living, so my youngest son and I can only go down the mountain to farm every day before dawn."
At this point, her voice began to tremble violently, as fear and grievance welled up in her heart.
"But just now, a group of people... those new refugees... they rushed into my field."
"They were like a group of rats, trampling our grain, our cabbages, saying they were too hungry."
"My youngest son, Thomas, went up to reason with them, saying this was our land, and our men had all gone to fight for you."
She pointed to the bloodstains at her son's mouth, and tears streamed down her face again.
"As a result... as a result, they hit him! And they pushed me down!"
"They also said:"
"They also said this was the food Lord Arthur promised them when he allowed them to come to the land!"
Arthur spun around sharply, his gaze like two drawn swords, piercing directly towards Olivier, who had just ridden up and dismounted.
His voice was not loud, as calm as usual, yet it sent a shiver down everyone's spine: "Olivier."
"Didn't you say the refugees had food supplies?"
Hearing Arthur's somewhat questioning tone, Olivier's face instantly turned ashen.
He looked at the scene before him, his lips moved, but no sound came out: "My Lord... We do have a large supply of food at the refugee camp."
He quickly stepped forward, his face full of confusion and shock, "I guarantee, although to save money, everyone receives the minimum ration, black bread and wheat paste are absolutely enough!"
"They shouldn't have to steal food from the fields!"
Olivier instantly guessed the crux of the problem: the issue was definitely not hunger, but greed.
"It must be some villains! Utterly greedy!"
But Arthur did not respond to Olivier; he thought of several other possibilities: either the people distributing the food were embezzling, or some kind of hidden order had emerged within the refugee camp.
Arthur no longer looked at him, turning to Lucien: "Lucien, take out a silver deer."
Lucien immediately understood Lord Arthur's meaning, took out a silver deer from his waist pouch, walked in front of Margaret, and handed it to her.
Arthur helped the woman up and continued to speak.
"Madam, this is compensation for the requisition of your house, and also for the loss of your grain."
Margaret saw the bag of silver deer and shook her head repeatedly in fright, retreating in terror: "No! My Lord! I cannot accept your silver deer!"
"Take it!" Without another word, Arthur turned and mounted his horse, carrying an irresistible majesty.
He pointed at Olivier, his face devoid of any expression: "All the requisitioned houses in the old village down the mountain!"
"Give their owners compensation!"
Olivier closed his eyes tightly, his face twitching. He had never heard of a lord in the Seven Kingdoms paying for requisitioned houses from their subjects; weren't they originally the lord's property? Lord Arthur truly didn't treat money as money.
Arthur, on horseback, reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping over the faces of all the soldiers around him.
"I will not let those who fight for me bleed and cry!"
"This is my promise! A promise to all of you!"
Margaret clutched the silver deer, feeling its heavy, cold sensation, and could no longer stand. She knelt on the ground and burst into tears. This time, her cries were devoid of despair and fear, filled only with endless gratitude. Her young son also looked at Arthur on horseback with excitement.
The surrounding soldiers watched this scene, their anger gradually fading from their eyes, replaced by an almost fervent adoration and trust. They clenched their fists, their chests held higher.
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