’Huh?’

Darion thought in his mind as he saw her walk toward him. His heart did a small skip, not from nervousness or excitement, just from the simple surprise of seeing her suddenly heading his way.

Then he looked at the shelter covering him and smiled at his tomfoolery. The building was the only source of shade for a good distance in any direction. The sun was brutal, the heat oppressive, and there was nowhere else to escape it. Of course she was coming here. Not to talk to him. Not because she wanted to be near him. She was just coming to take shelter, the same way he had.

What had he even been thinking before? That she had some urgent business with him? That she had noticed him standing alone and decided to join him for conversation? That was ridiculous. She had been standing in the sun for the entire time he had been here, watching the work, not saying anything to anyone. She was probably just as tired and hot as he was, and the building was the only place to get out of it.

And so Darion acted like she wasn’t coming near him. He turned his head slightly, angling his body away from her approach, and looked at the carpenters like his interest was very much deep in it. He watched them measure, watched them mark, watched them drive stakes into the earth. He made his face look focused, like he was analyzing every detail of the process, like nothing else in the world existed except the work happening in front of him.

Seren arrived now and stayed at the other side of the shelter. She said nothing to him, just looked at him once, a brief, passing glance, and then continued looking at the carpenters doing their work, her attention seemingly focused there too, like Darion.

For a few moments, they stood in silence. The shade was cool. The breeze was light. The sounds of the work carried across the field.

Darion glanced at her briefly then back to the fields. She was still standing with her arms folded, her expression neutral, her eyes tracking the movements of the carpenters. She didn’t look uncomfortable.

He wondered if she truly liked living in Percvale. Sometimes, he felt it was a bore. The days could be long. The work could be repetitive. There wasn’t much excitement unless something went wrong.

War was one of those thrills. Though seemingly dangerous to go into, it made one’s boring days seem a lot more productive. The planning, the strategy, the movement of troops, the tension before battle, all of it filled the empty hours with purpose.

Darion had experienced it twice now, against Valdenmoor. Both times and Gonnb. The days leading up to the conflict had been anything but boring.

There was no time to sit around wondering what to do with yourself. You were too busy preparing, too busy worrying, too busy making sure everything was in place.

Darion didn’t know when soon he would go into a war again. He hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon, rebuilding was more important than fighting, but he also knew that this world didn’t care about his hopes. Enemies would come. Threats would emerge. And when they did, the boring days would end.

Now, he didn’t know for sure how Seren felt about it. She had come here as a prisoner, essentially. She had stayed because she had nowhere else to go. But now? Now she seemed settled. She had her archers. She had her role and she had her own life here.

What exactly was there to do in Percvale anyway? The daily routine was simple: wake up, eat, work, eat, sleep. Over and over. The only variety came from crises and decisions. But these last days had been very productive though. The hunt, the buying of timber, and now the reconstruction. Things were moving.

He thought about her mother Vera. The last time he had seen her was when she had left after helping with Aldric’s oath. She had been useful then, very useful.

He didn’t know how soon he would need her again. Maybe whenever they caught an enemy that letting him or her go would lead to his downfall or something like that. Vera’s skills were too valuable to ignore forever.

Eventually, Darion and Seren got tired and sat on the floor as they watched the process. Seren sat first, lowering herself to the wooden floor of the corridor with a small sigh, her legs stretching out in front of her. Then Darion followed. He sat beside her, not too close and leaned back against the wooden wall.

Darion as Baron shouldn’t necessarily be watching this long, by the way. Barons and kings didn’t just stay and watch reconstruction go on. They might for the first few minutes, y’know, checking on progress, talking to the head carpenter, making sure everything was in order. Then they would leave. They had other things to do. Meetings to attend. Decisions to make. People to see. The work would continue without them, and they would return later to inspect the results.

But well... Darion had nothing exactly to do. Garren was handling the carpenters. Seren was just watching. The farmers were working on their own.

So this was a good way to pass the day. Watching the work. Feeling the shade. Letting his mind wander. It wasn’t productive in the traditional sense, but it was restful. And rest was something he didn’t get enough of.

The carpenters continued their work. The measuring was almost done. The stakes marked the outlines of pens and shelters. The next phase, the digging, would begin soon.

After the carpenters were done measuring, Darion noticed them discussing something with Garren. The older knight was nodding, pointing at different sections of the land, making adjustments. The head carpenter gestured toward the piles of timber, then toward the marked sections. They seemed to be deciding where to start digging first.

Then Garren came up to Darion.

Garren walked over to him calmly. Darion stood up as he saw him come closer, brushing off the dust from his trousers. Garren’s face was calm as usual.

"The carpenters are saying that after digging, they would call it a day," Garren said. "They want to start fresh tomorrow morning."

Darion nodded. "Alright. They seem to be doing good work so far. The measuring was thorough. The stakes are in the right places. I’m impressed with how organized they are."

"Yes," Garren agreed. "They know what they’re doing. The head carpenter has done this kind of work before, he mentioned building similar pens for another barony a few years ago. He knows the timeline and the materials needed."

Another Barony? That meant that even though the carpenter was from Percvale, he had been seeing outside jobs before. That must been many years ago.

He had traveled beyond the borders, worked for other lords and earned coins from other territories while his own barony crumbled around him.

The carpenter had probably given up on Percvale entirely. He had probably assumed the barony would never recover, that the old skills he had learned would never be needed again.

Until Darion called. Until the work started. Now he was back, using those almost forgotten skills, building something that would last. Darion was glad he was bringing them back.

"In a week, I can imagine this place being a progress to the eyes in terms of productivity," Darion said, looking out at the marked fields. "Pens standing. Fencing up. Shelters built. The livestock will have somewhere to go."

Garren nodded. "The farmers will be done soon, right? With the planting?"

"Yes," Garren said. "They should be done soon. The land is large, so it’s taking time. If it were smaller, they would have planted the seeds across the stretch much sooner. But the size of the farmland works against speed. Also, some are trimming the sprouting grasses, so that’s work too. The fields need to be maintained, not just planted."

Darion nodded slowly. "I was thinking of making the farmers a one-time thing," he said, "but the trimming aspect and checking the crops later on... that’s ongoing work. The crops don’t stop growing after they’re planted. They need to be watered, weeded, watched for pests. The fields need constant attention. I didn’t realize how much work it would be."

Garren looked at him. "Farming is never a one-time thing. You plant, you tend, you harvest, you replant. It’s a cycle that never ends. That’s why farming communities are always busy. There’s always something to do."

Darion was quiet for a moment, considering that. He had thought of the farmers as a temporary solution, people to get the crops in the ground and then move on. But that wasn’t how farming worked. The fields needed constant care. The farmers would need to stay. At least some of them.

"I’ll need to think about that," Darion said finally. "How many farmers to keep on permanently. How much to pay them. What their schedules should look like."