As a lord, he shouldn't have to do any labor; he should be living a life of luxury.
But Lynn's right palm was full of hard calluses.
Janet felt.
Their thickness was no less than that of farmers who had worked for decades.
Or like soldiers and mercenaries wielding weapons and licking blood.
However.
She understood in her heart why this was so.
It was precisely because the Lynn before her was unafraid of hardship and labor, persisting with the townsmen.
That this territory, once a mere wasteland of weeds, had developed to such a scale.
If not witnessed personally.
If only heard through rumors, no one would believe it!
In an instant, Janet's movements massaging Lynn's arm became a bit more intimate.
The look in her eyes toward Lynn began to change from past resentment and hatred.
Once a manor lord of Frank Manor, indeed.
She was well aware of the principle of the victor becoming the ruler.
Facing such a powerful lord.
Facing such a handsome man.
