As Ravenna stepped into the bcksmiths’ workpce, the bustling activity came to an abrupt halt. The workers, covered in soot and sweat, turheir attention to her with a mix of awe and trepidation. The same se unfolded as before: kneeling bows and hushed whispers rippled through the group. Ravenna dismissed their greetings with a single, dispassionate wave, her eyes sing the surroundings with sharp precision.

  The fe was alive with the roar of fmes and the rhythmiging of hammers strikial. Sparks danced in the air like fireflies, while the heat emanating from the bzing furnaces created a suffog atmosphere. She approached a burly man standing near a rge anvil, his face flushed from exertion.

  “You must be he head bcksmith,” Ravenna said, her tone cold and cutting as her pierg gaze locked onto him. “How is the progress ing along?”

  iffened under her scrutiny, his throat tightening. He hastily bowed, his voice shaky as he replied, “Y-yes, Yhness. I am Nille.” After straightening up, he gestured toward the workers b in the fe. “We’ve pleted about 150 mud cages so far. Richard and the fishermen are already using them to collect seabed soil daily. At this pace, we estimate roduce at least 300 cages by the end of the month.”

  He paused, nervously eyeing Ravenna’s expression. Her sharp eyes betrayed no sign of praise, her face remaining an inscrutable mask of icy authority. Nille swallowed hard and tinued, “As for the other two designs Yhness provided... we’re unsure if we plete them.”

  Ravenna’s gaze turned even colder, her voice ced with an edge that sent a shiver down Nille’s spine. “And why is that? Hughes assured me you were talented enough to hahis.”

  “It’s not the designs, Yhness,” ammered, shaking his head. “It’s the ck of resources. We simply don’t have enough iron, and we’re severely uaffed.”

  Ravenna regarded him in silence for a moment, her peing stare making the bcksmith fidget uhe weight of her presence. Finally, she nodded. “I see. Very well.” Her tone softened just enough to avoid being mistaken for disapproval. “You’ve do work so far. I will ensure you have the materials and manpower required to finish the task.”

  She turned sharply on her heel, her skirt trailing behind her as she made her way out. “Good work, everyone,” she said over her shoulder, her words clipped but loud enough for the entire fe to hear. “Keep at it.”

  The bcksmiths exhaled collectively, their shoulders sagging in relief as she exited the workpd headed back to her carriage.

  The designs Nille referred to were for a rudimentary bst furnad an early steam engine—cepts Ravenna had painstakingly researched online during her jouro Jo Isnd. She had deliberately chosen designs simple enough for this world’s bcksmiths to struct, provided they had the resources. In this world, steel produ still relied on bor-intensive manual methods. The introdu of a bst furnad steam engines would revolutiohe process, potentially turning Jo Isnd into a steel powerhouse and seg a steady stream of ine.

  Yet, Ravenna realized now she may have been overly hasty. The isnd’s current ck of iron and skilled bor was a signifit obstacle, one she o overe before her pns could bear fruit.

  As the carriage rolled toward the docks, Ravenna gazed out at the coastlihe salty air carried the distant cries of seagulls and the rhythmic crashing of waves. Small oes bobbed oer, their octs hauling cages filled with seabed soil. Each oe towed at least two or three of the makeshift cages, their operators w tirelessly uhe scorg midday sun.

  When the carriage came to a stop, Ravenna stepped down gracefully. The knights stationed nearby immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in deference. In the distance, Hughes, overseeing the dock operations, noticed the otion. He was w alongside Richard, coordinating the ining boats and their cargo.

  “Her Highness has arrived!” Hughes excimed, his voice filled with urgency. He turo Richard. “Get everyone in order, now! Make sure they’re on their best behavior.”

  Richard’s eyes widened, and he quickly made his way to the fishermen. “The princess is here! Shape up, all of you!” he barked, his tone anding.

  Ravenna walked along the shorelihe sun’s relentless heat beating down ohe midday heat had grown oppressive, casting a golden haze over the docks. Despite the sweat trig down the faces of the workers, they straightened up and bowed as she passed, their expressions a mix of resped nervousness.

  Her gaze swept over the bustling activity—the stant movement of boats, the soil being unloaded and ied, and the fishermen’s calloused hands w tirelessly. Despite the intense heat and the weight of her pns, a small flicker of satisfa stirred withihe people of Jo Isnd were beginning to rise to the occasion, and she was determio ehey succeeded.

  As she approached, Hughes immediately straightened and bowed. His uniform was slightly disheveled, and a light sheen of sweat covered his brow from the heat and stant activity.

  Ravenna’s tone was sharp, yet ced with a hint of sardonic amusement. “It seems you’re quite enjoying yourself here at the docks, Hughes,” she said, her lips curling ever so slightly into a smirk.

  Hughes stiffened, his throat tightening. “I—I am w hard, Yhness,” he stammered, “to ehe task is pleted effitly!”

  Her smirk widened slightly. “I see that,” she replied, her voice deceptively soft. “Perhaps you’re better suited to this sort of work than serving as my Knight Captain.”

  Hughes bnched. “How you say that, Yhness?” he protested, his voice tinged with panic. “I have been your Knight Captain since—”

  Ravenna cut him off mid-sentence, her tone no enough to slice through steel. “It was a jest, Hughes. Or rather, it might have been—if it weren’t taking you so long to plete such a simple task aurn to your proper post. How else am I to interpret this dey?”

  Before Hughes could stammer out another excuse, Ravenna’s pierg gaze shifted to the man standing beside him. “You,” she said, her voianding. “You are Richard, the leader of Jo’s fishermen, correct?”

  The burly fisherman nodded quickly, his words caught in his throat as the sheer weight of Ravenna’s authority pressed down on him. Despite his years of experience leading his fellow fishermen, standing before the Unruly Princess of Ana was enough to make his knees weak.

  “How long does it take tanize a fleet of fishermen to gather mud from the seabed?” Ravenna asked, her tone calm but carrying an edge that left no room for evasion. “Hughes has been overseeing this task for two weeks noeeks.”

  Richard gulped, sweat dripping from his temple as he stammered out a reply. “Y-Yhness,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I—I uand the operation fully now. Ser Hughes is no longer needed here. I am fident we tihering the soil without his ht.”

  Ravenna studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly before she nodded. “Good. Hughes,” she said, turning back to her Knight Captain, “you will return to your post by evening. Once you have done so, e to my study. I have new orders for you.”

  With that, she turned and began walking back toward her carriage, her skirt swaying with each step. Her departure left an oppressive silen her wake.

  Richard finally exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His legs felt weak, and his heart pounded in his chest. He had thought—no, feared—that he might openly defy her when she first arrived. But standing before her now, he knew su act would have been impossible. Her presence alone had silenced him, and her relentless drive to improve the lives of Jo’s citizens anded both resped gratitude.

  Hughes dusted himself off as he straighteurning to Richard with a wry smile. “Well, you heard Her Highness,” he said. “I’ll be leaving this task in your hands now. Make sure to follow the protocols and maintain the discipline I’ve drilled into you.”

  Richard nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, Ser Hughes. I’ll ha. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I o get moving before Her Highness finds another reason to be displeased. They say her temper is as fragile as gss. I’d rather not be on the receiving end of her wrath.”

  Hughes chuckled at the ent but leaned in slightly, l his voice. “Whatever you’ve heard about her,” he said, his tone grave, “is watered down. Trust me on that.”

  With that ominous remark, Hughes turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Richard standing there, more determihao ensure everything ran smoothly under Her Highness’s watchful eye.

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