The moment she opened her eyes, the ceiling was low. 　That's when Sakurai Misaki realized it. 　（……This isn't my lab） 　She traced back yesterday's memories. She'd been typing a paper while drinking coffee. The screen had shown comparative soil composition data. She remembered placing the mug on the table. 　But the next moment, she was here. 　The ceiling was cold gray stone. The walls too. A rough blanket lay over her body, and beneath her feet was a wooden bed. A single small candelabra sat in the corner of the room. Through the window, a leaden sky was visible. 　Misaki slowly pushed herself upright. 　Chestnut-colored hair fell across her face, and she brushed it away. The silver piercing in her left ear felt slightly cold. With her indigo eyes, she scanned the room. The furniture was minimal. One table, one chair. Nothing else. 　（Too austere……） 　Something lay on the table. 　Misaki got out of bed and approached carefully. It was parchment. Old and slightly yellowed. When she picked it up, it was covered in meticulous handwriting. 　Fortina Kingdom, Glesia Borderland Territory. Bride Candidate Appointment Notice. 　"……What?" 　The words escaped her lips. 　She read further, but it made no sense. Fortina Kingdom, Verdonia Continent, borderland lord, bride candidate system——unfamiliar terms lined up one after another. 　A giant question mark floated in Misaki's mind. 　A knock sounded. 　"Pardon the intrusion." 　The door opened quietly. 　A white-haired gentleman entered. Probably in his fifties. His weathered face held calm eyes. He wore a black vest impeccably, his posture perfectly straight. Even his footsteps were silent——the bearing of someone who had done this work for years. 　The gentleman looked at Misaki and bowed slowly and deeply. 　"We have been awaiting you, Miss Misaki." 　Misaki blinked rapidly, still holding the parchment. 　"[surprised]Um, wait a moment. I think you have me confused with someone else, don't you?" 　The gentleman raised his head. His expression didn't change. But his eyes narrowed slightly, troubled. 　"No. You are indeed Miss Sakurai Misaki." 　"The name matches, but……" 　Misaki held out the parchment. 　"[serious]What is this?" 　"An appointment notice, miss. I shall explain in order. Please, do sit." 　Offered a chair, Misaki sat down for now. 　The gentleman introduced himself. He was the butler, Gilbert. Then, in a quiet tone, he explained several things. 　This place was called the Verdonia Continent, a world with a feudal system like medieval Europe. Magic existed, but only three in a thousand people could use it, and agriculture and handicrafts supported most of life. 　"[serious]Glesia Borderland Territory——here——was once called the Granary of the North." 　Gilbert continued, his gaze turning toward the window. 　"But forty years ago, decline began. Now it is a small territory with a population of twelve hundred." 　Gilbert's voice was matter-of-fact. But when he spoke that word——"forty years"——there was a slight pause. A quiet weight, the kind that comes from knowing long years. 　Misaki glanced out the window. Fields stretched in the distance. A dull brown, with almost no green. 　（That's what the granary used to be……） 　"And so," Gilbert continued, "there is a system where the borderland lord's fiancée candidate lives in the territory. Before formal marriage, for one to two years, they assess the candidate's aptitude for territory management." 　"The bride candidate system. It was written on the parchment." 　"Yes. And you are the fourth candidate, Miss Misaki." 　"Fourth?" 　"The first returned home in tears on the day of arrival." 　Misaki's face twitched. 　"The second lasted one week. The third……three days." 　Gilbert's voice remained calm. But his eyes wavered. He bowed deeply, apologetically, yet with a sense of resignation. 　Misaki looked at the parchment, then at the withered fields outside the window, then back at Gilbert. 　Suppressing a laugh, she opened her mouth. 　"[sarcastic]So basically, I've been dumped into a position nobody wants, right?" 　"……I am truly, deeply sorry." 　He bowed even deeper. 　Misaki looked up at the ceiling. Gray stone. She sighed once and lowered her eyes to the parchment again. 　（Well, getting angry won't help. First, I need to organize the situation） 　When Gilbert raised his head, Misaki was already thinking of something else. The fields outside the window wouldn't leave her mind. 　"Gilbert." 　"Yes?" 　"Can I go outside for a bit?" 　"……Right now, miss?" 　"Yes." 　Gilbert looked slightly surprised. But Misaki was already standing. --- 　The moment she stepped outside, cold air touched her cheeks. 　Fields spread north of the mansion. Brown earth as far as the eye could see. Beneath a bluish sky, dry furrows stretched on. Halbert Village's stone plaza was visible in the distance, and beyond it, the same landscape continued. 　Misaki walked to the edge of the field. 　The instant her shoe touched the soil, the blood of an agricultural economics major began to stir. 　（The spacing between those furrows is too wide. And……） 　She crouched and dug into the soil with her bare hands. 　The texture clinging to her fingers was sticky. Clay-based. When she squeezed it, it formed a lump easily. High moisture content with poor drainage——a textbook case. 　"Continuous cropping damage." 　The words came out. Muttering to herself. 　She smelled the soil. Fermentation hadn't progressed. Weak microbial activity——the telltale sign of soil that had grown the same crop in the same place for years. 　Misaki surveyed the entire field. She walked toward the north. She dug up soil in several places, estimating the slope. She checked the direction of the furrows. 　（Not a single drainage ditch. With this slope, water pools every time it rains. Root rot is inevitable） 　Her shoe soles sank into the soil, making a squelching sound with each step. Mud stuck to her boots. It splattered on the hem of her tunic. 　She didn't mind at all. 　A list of problems accumulated in her mind. Create drainage ditches. Work in green manure. Reorganize the crop rotation system. Soil improvement takes time, but with this soil type, it's doable. Three years and it'll definitely change. 　"But……" 　Misaki looked at her mud-covered hands. 　A smile had formed at the corners of her mouth. Without her even noticing. 　（There's potential here. There really is） 　Back in the graduate lab, wrestling with data, she'd always thought it. Not just theory——she wanted to actually work with her hands. Touch the soil. See with her own eyes whether crop rotation succeeded, not just in numbers. 　That field was here now. Right in front of her. 　Of course she was scared. Thrown into an unknown world, into some incomprehensible position as a bride candidate, with no idea how to get back. She wasn't without anxiety. 　But. 　（First, the fields） 　Misaki stood up and wiped her muddy hands on her tunic. --- 　When she returned to the mansion, the corridor was dim. 　Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor. Heading toward the dining hall, Misaki's mind was already designing drainage ditches. The Lente River should flow nearby, and if she could use it for irrigation—— 　A figure appeared ahead in the corridor. 　Misaki stopped. 　Standing at the dining hall entrance. Mid-twenties, perhaps. Silver hair cut short at the nape of his neck, eyes a cool gray-blue. His features were refined. A black jacket with gold buttons that gleamed. 　An aura of "don't talk to me" emanated from his entire body. 　Misaki reflexively opened her mouth. 　"Oh, hello." 　The young man's eyes turned toward her. 　For just a moment, their gazes met. 　In that instant, Misaki felt she saw many things. Wariness, exhaustion, and then——something else. Something she couldn't quite name, hidden in the depths of those gray-blue eyes. 　The next moment, the young man turned his back. 　He disappeared down the corridor. 　Not even three seconds had passed. 　Misaki stared at the corridor where he'd vanished for a while. His footsteps grew fainter and fainter. They disappeared completely. 　（……What?） 　Gilbert's voice came from the side. 　"[whispers]The lord has……some distrust toward bride candidates." 　His voice was low and quiet. 　A sharp feeling pricked Misaki's chest. 　He'd ignored her. But something felt different. He wasn't angry. He was hurt——maybe. She wasn't certain. But what she'd glimpsed in that instant caught in a corner of her mind. 　"Because the previous three all ran away?" 　"……That may be a factor." 　Gilbert's voice sank slightly. The quiet exhaustion of someone who'd protected this mansion for years was there. 　Misaki looked at her mud-covered palms. Soil was lodged under her fingernails. 　（No point dwelling on it. I'll just do what I can now） 　"Gilbert." 　"Yes?" 　"Can I go see the fields again tomorrow?" 　Gilbert's eyes widened slightly. He looked at Misaki's mud-covered hands and clothes, then raised his head again. 　"……Of course, miss." 　"I want to design the drainage system. How much water does the Lente River have this season?" 　"Before the spring snowmelt, so water levels are somewhat low now. They decrease further in summer." 　"Then I should act sooner rather than later." 　Gilbert's eyes widened slightly again. That made three times today. 　Misaki smiled and wiped her hands on her clothes once more. It didn't help much. 　"First, I'll go back to my room and take notes. Can I borrow some paper and a pen?" 　"I shall prepare them at once." 　"Thank you." 　Misaki began walking down the corridor. 　A whisper from Gilbert reached her back. 　"[whispers]This time……please don't run away." 　It was a voice that seemed to dissolve into the corridor. 　Misaki didn't turn around. But her mouth relaxed slightly. 　（I won't run. There's too much to do） 　Down the corridor of gray stone, her mud-covered shoes making noise, Misaki headed to her room. 　The sky visible through the window remained leaden. But Misaki's mind was already full of green. The location of drainage ditches, the types of green manure, the crop rotation cycle——what color the northern fields would be next year. 　How far agricultural economics could reach in this barren land. 　It was, just a little, exciting.