novelraw Chapter 83 : A New Responsibility
Chapter 83 : A New Responsibility
Rooga POV
Father’s health had become something else entirely. The curse that once ate away at him was gone, replaced with strength that felt almost unreal. He moved through the fields with ease, his shoulders broad, his swing steady, his stamina endless.
And with Maori’s tree blessing the land, the harvest tripled.
What once felt like backbreaking work was now just a breeze. The stalks grew thick, the grain golden, the vegetables rich and plump. Even the soil smelled alive.
On market day, we loaded the wagon until it nearly groaned under the weight of produce. Father guided the horse, and I sat on the wagon beside him, legs dangling.
As soon as we arrived at the town, people gathered, whispering.
“It’s the Valemonts again.”
“Look at those crops…”
“They look too healthy. Almost unnatural.”
Then a merchant pushed through the crowd. His clothes were neat, his eyes sharp like a hawk’s. He eyed the wagon full of produce, and his lips curled into a smile.
“These… these crops,” he muttered, touching a bundle of wheat. “They’re worth more than triple the usual. I’ll pay twice the market price for everything right here and now.”
Father’s brows furrowed, his voice steady but sharp. “I don’t grow these to make coin. I grow them so the people can eat.”
The merchant smirked. “Then think of it this way. If you sell to me, I’ll take it further, to nobles, to guilds. Your name will spread—”
“I said no,” Father cut him off, his glare sharp enough to silence the man.
The crowd stirred, and the merchant pulled back, but before Father could urge the wagon forward, I tugged on his sleeve.
“Papa,” I said softly.
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He glanced down, and I pointed at Mother in my mind. At her tired face these days, her growing stomach.
“Papa,” I said louder, so the merchant and townsfolk could hear, “Mama’s pregnant again. She can’t go on her adventures right now. We… we need more money than before. For her. For Riaz. For the new baby too.”
The wagon went quiet.
Father’s eyes widened slightly, the firmness in them melting into something else. For a moment, he just looked at me like I wasn’t a child, but someone standing beside him as an equal.
Then he sighed, heavy, before speaking. “...Fine. I’ll sell this harvest. But not all of it. Half goes to the people, half to coin. That’s our way.”
The merchant, quick to nod, already began barking orders to his men. But Father didn’t look at him again.
Instead, he placed his rough hand on my head. “You’re right, Rooga. I almost forgot.”
I smiled faintly, even as my stomach twisted. If this is what being older means… maybe I’m not ready. But I’ll do it anyway.
The wagon creaked as the merchant’s men loaded sacks of our crops onto their cart. Father’s decision still lingered in the air — half for coin, half for the people.
I could feel the stares.
The crowd wasn’t silent anymore.
“Valemont’s selling now?” one man whispered. “Thought they were above coin.”
“So even they’ve fallen… just like the other nobles.” another muttered, spitting on the ground.
But there were other voices too.
“Shut it. You think they don’t need to live too? His wife’s pregnant.”
“That’s right! Even the Valemonts have mouths to feed.”
“Besides, they’re still giving half for free. What noble do you know that’d do that?”
I sat on the wagon, legs dangling, watching it all play out. The words mixed together like a buzzing hive in my ears.
Some glared at us like we betrayed them. Others looked at us with gratitude.
I hugged my knees tighter, muttering under my breath. “...People sure are selfish.”
Father’s hand rested on my shoulder. He didn’t look down, just kept his eyes ahead as he said quietly, “This is what leadership means, Rooga. No matter what choice you make, half the world will curse you, and the other half will praise you.”
I thought about that as I glanced at the merchant, who was still grinning like he’d just won a prize. Then I looked at the children in the crowd, tugging on their mothers’ skirts, their eyes fixed on the food we’d set aside for the poor.
I exhaled slowly. If Mama can fight whole armies, if Papa can face curses head-on… then maybe I can endure a few whispers.
Still, I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath: “When I’m stronger, I’ll make sure no one goes hungry. Not even one.”
Father chuckled softly, though he didn’t say a word.