Familiar

Zach remained in the room, not making a move to leave while his mother busied herself with her work. Instead, he nestled against her, acting like the child he appeared to be, but his mind was far from idle. His eyes scanned the reports piled high on her desk, occasionally catching glimpses of their contents. Without drawing attention to himself, he carefully read over them, slowly piecing together the situation.

The town was in turmoil. Merchants protested the restrictions placed on their sales. The people were uneasy, murmuring about the sudden changes in regulations and the increased presence of soldiers. The looming threat of bandits at the borders only added to the weight pressing down on his mother's shoulders. And there she sat, drowning in the endless flow of complaints, reports, and urgent matters, each document another burden stacked upon the last.

Zach had seen this before, just not in this world. In his past life, his office had been flooded with papers, each requiring his attention, each demanding a solution. He had sat at his desk countless times, feeling that same sinking sensation, that familiar uncertainty of where to even begin. The weight of responsibility was something he knew well. And now, as he watched his mother shoulder this burden alone, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

This was his doing. He had been the one to propose the game, the one who had unknowingly set off this chain of events. But instead of simply lamenting his mistakes, he needed to fully grasp the scale of the issue. Gossip from the maids had given him fragmented pieces of the puzzle, but now, reading these reports firsthand, he could finally see the bigger picture.

His mind whirred as he analyzed everything. The merchants were furious because the restrictions on selling the game outside of town meant lost profits. The people's unrest stemmed from the military tightening control, an unintended consequence of maintaining order. The increase in bandit activity at the border meant resources had to be stretched even thinner. Each problem was connected, tangled together like an intricate web.

If he were still a politician in his past life, he would have called for a meeting, gathered his advisors, and formulated a plan. But here, he was just a four-year-old boy. No one would listen to him. Not yet.

But that didn't mean he couldn't think of a solution.

Zach took a deep breath, his small hands clenching slightly as determination flickered in his eyes. He had to find a way to fix this. Not just for the town, not just for the reputation of Ravennest, but for his mother, who was carrying everything alone. He wasn't sure what he could do yet, but one thing was certain he wouldn't let this situation spiral any further.

It was time to start thinking like a politician again.

Zach sat quietly in his mother's study, nestled against her arm as she worked through a mountain of reports. He wasn't just playing the part of a child seeking comfort; he was reading along, piecing together the situation unfolding in Ravennest. His small fingers idly traced the edges of the parchment as he listened to the sound of his mother's exhausted sighs.

He had been in this position before not in this life, but in his past one. Endless documents, problems stacking on top of each other, and no clear way to start solving them. That suffocating weight of responsibility was all too familiar.

The biggest problem, he realized, was that his mother was fighting this battle alone.

Vincent's absence had created a void. The people were anxious, the merchants were pushing back, and unrest was spreading. His father had always been the figure of strength, the presence that reassured the people. But without him, Ravennest felt vulnerable, and his mother, no matter how capable, was struggling to hold everything together.

Zach's mind raced through possible solutions, but only one seemed viable: Vivian needed to step out of the mansion and face the people directly. He had seen it before in his previous life when politicians' reputations were under fire, the only way to rebuild trust was to engage with the public personally.

But how could he suggest this without raising suspicion?

He glanced up at his mother, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes. The weight of leadership was crushing her, and yet, she carried it alone, unwilling to let it show.

"Mother..." he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of innocent curiosity. "Do the people outside know how hard you're working for them?"

Vivian paused, setting her quill down for the first time in hours. She turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. "What do you mean, sweetie?"

Zach tilted his head, playing the part of a child trying to understand the world. "If they knew, wouldn't they feel safer? Wouldn't they stop being so scared and angry?"

Vivian's lips pressed into a thin line. "The people don't always understand the weight of leadership, Zach."

He hugged her arm and looked up at her with wide eyes. "If I didn't see you working so hard, I might think you didn't care too."

That struck a nerve. Vivian's gaze softened, and her body tensed just slightly. Zach knew he had to be careful if he pushed too hard, she'd see through him. Instead, he let the silence stretch before adding in a quieter voice, "Wouldn't it be nice if they saw you, even just for a little bit?"

Vivian exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the reports. The idea had been planted. Now, she would turn it over in her mind, let it settle, and eventually, she would take action.

The night was quiet, yet Vivian found no solace in its embrace. Lying in bed, she stared at the canopy above, her mind restless with the weight of Zach's words.

"Wouldn't it be nice if they saw you, even just for a little bit?"

The suggestion had seemed innocent perhaps even naïve but the more she thought about it, the more it struck deep.

Vincent had built his reputation in this town since childhood. He was a figure the people had watched grow, a leader they had trusted for years. He didn't need to prove himself; his presence alone reassured them. But for her... things were different.

Vivian arrived in Ravennest only after her engagement to Vincent. From the start, the people had treated her with respect, but it wasn't trust she had earned it was trust Vincent had given her. The people accepted her because Vincent had chosen her, and in their eyes, he would not choose poorly.

But now, that borrowed trust was crumbling.

Every decision she made, every policy she enforced, was now met with skepticism. The merchants fanned the flames of discontent, twisting her choices to seem self-serving. The shield of Vincent's reputation could no longer protect her. She was no longer just 'Vincent's wife' she was the one in power while he was away. And power, in the hands of an unknown, was frightening to the people.

If things continued this way, what would happen the next time Vincent had to leave? Would the town descend into chaos, questioning her every move? Would they turn their backs on her entirely?

No. She couldn't let that happen.

Zach's words lingered in her mind. The people needed to see her. To know her. She had spent years managing affairs behind the mansion walls, but she had never truly stepped into the heart of the town as a leader. If she wanted the people's trust, she had to earn it, just as Vincent once had. Not through words alone, but through presence, through action.

Sitting up, she exhaled slowly, as if shedding her old hesitations with that breath. Tomorrow, she would start changing things. Tomorrow, she would face the people not as Vincent's wife, but as Vivian Ravennest.

And she would make sure they never doubted her again.

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the dining hall as Vivian quietly sipped her tea. The warmth did little to ease the weight in her chest. Today, she had made her decision. Now, she needed to set it in motion.

Setting down her cup, she turned to Sebastian, who stood attentively nearby. "Call Rendon. I want to meet in the study."

Sebastian bowed. "At once, my lady."

Minutes later, Vivian sat in the study, her hands folded neatly on the desk as she waited. Across from her, Sebastian and Rendon stood, waiting for her to speak. However, they were not alone.

Near the bookshelf, Zach sat cross-legged on the floor, guiding small wooden figures in an intense battle between snakes and demons. Beside him, Mia watched in fascination, occasionally clapping whenever a 'demon' was vanquished. Though their presence was unusual for a meeting, neither Vivian nor the others objected. The children would not understand the weight of their discussion, and for now, that was enough.

Vivian took a deep breath and began. "I plan to meet the people."

Sebastian and Rendon exchanged glances, but neither interrupted.

"My reputation is at risk," she continued. "If I do nothing, the trust Vincent built for me will shatter entirely. However, I cannot simply walk into town acting as though I am their friend. That would only make me seem insincere or desperate." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I need a purpose."

Sebastian nodded. "Then let's determine one. We could arrange a charity event perhaps distributing food to the poor?"

Vivian shook her head. "That would make it seem like I am trying to buy their favor. If it appears forced, it will only strengthen the merchants' claims that I am manipulating the people."

Rendon rubbed his chin. "Then perhaps something more practical? You could oversee public projects inspect the roads, visit the markets, show concern for daily matters."

"That would work," Vivian admitted, "but only if done properly. If I focus too much on improvements, it might seem like I am only now acknowledging their struggles. That would invite criticism rather than trust."

Sebastian exhaled. "Then what about attending church services? Many citizens gather there. If you attend, it would be natural for you to be seen among them."

Vivian considered it, then slowly shook her head. "It's a good setting, but too passive. It doesn't establish my presence as a leader, only as a noble fulfilling a social obligation."

The room fell silent as both men struggled to find a solution that met her conditions. Meanwhile, Zach's game grew more intense. "I am are winning!" he announced, moving his pieces with enthusiasm. Mia gasped and clutched her favorite wooden joker, determined to fight back.

Vivian glanced at them briefly before refocusing. "We need a plan that allows me to interact naturally with the people without making it seem forced. A reason for my presence that strengthens my image, rather than weakens it."

Rendon frowned. "Then we need to create the right situation one where the people will come to you, rather than you going to them."

Vivian's eyes sharpened. "Now that... is a start."