The Rise Of The Clydon Family-Chapter 12 : Let’s Call It “Angel’s Tear”

DONG—

The bell tower of the church rang out across Hawk Town, signaling the dawn of a new day.

Lux set the clapper aside, tucking a stray strand of golden hair back behind her ear. She picked up a wooden bucket and mop from the corner and began cleaning the church floor, little by little.

As the only cleric in Hawk Town's church, Lux was responsible for nearly everything.

In addition to collecting the tithe, she rang the morning bell, cleaned the sanctuary, led townsfolk in prayer on weekends and month's end, and organized the two major annual rites to honor the divine—one in August, one in March.

Though she was a second-tier priestess and had access to divine magic like [Swift Cleansing], she rarely used it. Lux preferred to express her devotion through labor, not shortcuts.

After cleaning nearly half the church, Lux stood on the second floor, straightening her back with a soft exhale. A smile touched her lips.

It had been just over ten days since Rus began drilling his private soldiers. Though he had issued no new policies for Hawk Town, the place had already undergone visible change.

The buildings and streets remained old and worn, but the standing water that once pooled on the roads had vanished. The pitted pathways had been filled with crushed stone and furnace ash. The usual plague of insects had dwindled considerably.

There were smiles on the townspeople's faces again. Children ran laughing through the streets, and neighbors greeted one another with warmth.

All this stemmed from a single policy—Rus had distributed fifty kilograms of coarse wheat flour per month to each of his private soldiers.

With thirty-four soldiers under his command, that meant thirty-four households benefited. Nearly 150 people saw their lives improve overnight.

And those not part of Rus's forces didn't feel resentful. Quite the opposite—they now had hope. The new baron was taking action, and he had already delivered tangible benefits.

Rus wouldn't stick with only thirty-four men forever. Their turn would come.

With hope in their hearts, people had started to care again—about themselves, and about their surroundings.

He really is a good man, Lux thought, the corners of her lips curling upward.

She had wrestled with guilt over helping Rus hide the truth about Donald's death.

What if he'd tricked me?

But in these past days, especially after healing Simon at Eagle Keep two nights ago, her doubts had completely faded.

She'd seen the change in the soldiers—their backs straighter, their eyes brighter.

And Simon had told her how Rus treated them—three full meals a day, with meat in the evenings.

What kind of lord gives his soldiers meat, she had wondered, unless he truly cared for them?

Ding-ling-ling—

The bell above the church door rang, interrupting her thoughts. Lux quickly set down the bucket and hurried downstairs.

It wasn't a prayer day. Who would come at this hour?

Standing before the statue of the Lord of Light was a dark-haired young man, eyes closed in solemn prayer. His hands moved in graceful arcs, drawing the holy symbols of the sun with his right hand, and the moon with his left.

Lux's eyes lit up. Even in the capital, she rarely saw someone perform the rites so precisely.

The man turned and smiled brightly. "Good morning, Priestess Lux."

"Baron Rus?" Lux said in surprise. "What brings you here?"

"I came to thank you, of course," Rus said, lifting a basket from the floor. "Would I be so lucky as to share breakfast with you?"

"It would be my honor." Lux nodded. "Please, follow me."

Proper decorum dictated that Rus keep his distance. But Lux had been working hard, and in the heat of summer, her clothes clung tightly to her body, damp with sweat. Every step she took made her curves ripple like water beneath her robe. The occasional folds in her priestess garb only added to her allure.

Even from behind, Rus could just make out the faint silhouette of the sacred sun-and-moon emblem over her chest.

The staircase was narrow, and her scent—humid, sweet, and unmistakably feminine—filled Rus's nostrils. Beneath the dampness was a soft, milky fragrance unique to young women, a scent that made it hard to resist the urge to wrap her in his arms.

His mind conjured images of what she might look like beneath that priestly robe. He swallowed hard, barely managing to rein in the beast within.

They finally reached the dining room. Rus, abandoning pretense, sat right down at the table. The motion helped him mask the lingering tension in his expression.

"Forgive me, Priestess Lux. I'm a little hungry," he said.

Lux simply nodded and sat across from him.

Rus placed the basket on the table and began laying out its contents:

A basket of garlic butter bread, two bowls of steaming oatmeal, two perfectly fried eggs, slices of roasted beef shoulder with a crispy crust—and a glass bottle filled with a rich purple liquid.

Lux's eyes lit up the moment she saw the bottle. "Baron Rus, is that... wine?"

"But of course," Rus smiled. "Surely it's not forbidden for clergy to drink outside of fasting periods?"

"No, not at all," Lux said, a little shyly. "I've always loved wine. It's just... my teacher rarely allowed me to drink it."

Rus chuckled. "Then I'm sure you'll enjoy this one."

He poured her a glass, gently sliding the silver goblet toward her.

Lux accepted it, took a small sip—and instantly her eyes curved into a joyful crescent. Like a little rabbit sneaking bites of a carrot, she quickly downed one sip after another, unable to stop.

Watching her, Rus finally understood why her teacher had banned her from drinking.

Perhaps she was especially sensitive to alcohol. A delicate blush crept across her cheeks, like rouge on porcelain. Her skin glowed, sweat beaded on her nose, and her breathing grew heavier. Her rosy tongue flicked across her lips in a daze.

Rus had seen plenty in his time. He could tell—Lux wasn't trying to seduce him.

And that was exactly why she was so hard to resist.

"I... I'm sorry," Lux said suddenly, sitting up straighter. The sun-and-moon sigil on her chest trembled slightly against the table.

Brushing her hair back over her shoulders, she looked up with embarrassment. "That wine was just... too good. Is it the famed Pearl of Frostmont?"

Pearl of Frostmont was a high-end red wine, renowned for its smooth texture and warmth. A single bottle sold for three gold coins.

"No, I'm just a humble baron. I can't afford luxuries like that," Rus said, forcing himself to focus on her face and not the alluring curves below. "This is a wine I developed myself."

"I see... I don't know much about wine," Lux said, tilting her head. Her clear eyes blinked with curiosity. "Could you tell me more about it?"

That's exactly what I was waiting for, Rus thought.

He began his story.

This time, he didn't embellish or fabricate much. He didn't even change the process significantly—just omitted a few key details and blurred the purpose and outcome.

In his version, he hadn't intentionally performed saponification. It had happened by accident while he was cooking. The glycerin had ended up in the wine cask by chance, and out of thrift, he'd decided to try it—only to discover a completely new kind of wine.

It was an easy tale to spin. After all, in his past life, every iconic dish seemed to have a "happy accident" story behind it.

"The Lord of Light always blesses His faithful," Lux said sincerely. "You must have touched His heart with your desire to improve life in Hawk's Reach—that's why He guided you to this discovery."

The Lord of Light? What's next—he's named Eugène Chevreul? Rus snarked inwardly.

But outwardly, he simply nodded. "You're absolutely right. This was all part of the Lord's divine plan."

Then he sighed. "It's just a shame... such a wonderful wine may never leave the walls of Eagle Keep."

"Why not?" Lux's curiosity was piqued. "Is it very expensive to make?"

Rus shook his head. "Actually, the cost comes mostly from the glass bottles."

"Then what's stopping you?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"...Ah." Rus sighed again, then smiled and refilled Lux's goblet. "Listen to me, getting all gloomy. I came here to thank you, not talk business. Let's drink instead."

But his change of subject only piqued Lux's curiosity further. She looked him straight in the eye and said, "Baron Rus, we swore to work together to improve the lives of the people in Hawk Town."

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"I've already seen your efforts, and I'm doing my best in my own duties. But surely you understand—farming alone can't truly lift them out of hardship."

"If what you've said is true, and this wine is inexpensive to make, then it could generate real profit. Shouldn't that profit be used to help our people?"

Rus was caught off guard. He had been wondering how to persuade Lux—but here she was, already a step ahead. Her words were clear, hopeful, and utterly sincere.

Still hesitating, he felt a soft, pale hand cover the back of his.

"Baron Rus," she said gently, "you are the lord of this land, and I am its priestess. We share the same goal. I believe in your kind and courageous heart."

"No matter the challenge, if we work together, I know we can overcome it."

Her hand was small—just enough to cover most of his—and soft as silk, slightly damp from the summer heat. The warmth of her touch made Rus's pulse quicken.

In that moment, he almost couldn't resist the urge to turn his hand and hold hers. But he forced himself not to.

He didn't want to shatter the image she had of him. He didn't want to betray the trust in her eyes.

"Thank you for your faith, Priestess Lux." His voice was full of genuine feeling. "In that case, let me be honest about what's holding me back."

He paused for a moment to organize his thoughts, then laid out the plan he'd been crafting in his mind for days.

"Hawk's Reach is just too remote. To the west are the Blood Highlands, to the south is Viscount John's territory, and to the north, the Warton family has us boxed in. Shanjin Town is lively, sure—but the market's too small."

"If we want real profits, the wine has to be sold in Monne City. But that's 337 kilometers away. And in times like these, good quality alone doesn't guarantee a market."

"Before anyone buys it, they have to recognize its value. The wine needs a name—reputation."

Lux nodded slowly. "I understand. As the old saying goes, 'Gold buried deep will never shine.' That is indeed a serious problem."

"If you've already thought this through... do you have a plan?"

Rus did, of course. That was why he had come here so early. But he couldn't let her see it was premeditated, so he shook his head.

Lux withdrew her hand and pressed a delicate finger to her chin in thought. After a moment, her eyes lit up.

"I can promote the wine under the name of the church."

"You said it was discovered by accident during cooking, right? Clearly, it's a gift from the Lord of Light."

"I could designate it as the official communion wine of Hawk Town's church—and even send a few bottles to my mentor. That might really help!"

Rus's surprise deepened. Though Lux was young and lacked worldly experience, she was no fool. In fact, her insight and intuition were far above average.

A rare partner indeed.

He'd stumbled upon a treasure.

Her suggestion gave him exactly the opening he needed.

"Priestess Lux, your idea has inspired me greatly."

"In that case, would you be willing to serve this wine at Uncle Donald's funeral—the same day as my investiture ceremony, three weeks from now?"

"There will be many nobles in attendance. After the ceremony, you could officially declare it the church's communion wine. That would surely make a strong impression."

Had Rus made this suggestion first, Lux might have suspected him of manipulating her. But since she'd brought it up herself, and he merely built upon it, the dynamic was entirely different.

"Baron Rus, you truly have the heart of a leader," Lux said with a smile. "Your plan is better than mine—and more effective at launching the wine into the public eye."

"I'm just lucky you helped me see the path forward," Rus said humbly. "Once the wine gains traction, I'll allocate funds to renovate the church."

"If your wine becomes widely sold, the tithe alone could go a long way," Lux laughed. "But more than that, I hope you'll invest the profits into Hawk Town and its people."

"You can always count on that," Rus said firmly. "This land is mine, after all."

Lux's sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with warmth. "Then... have you chosen a name for the wine?"

"Since it's a gift from the gods..." Rus pondered for a moment. "How about Angel's Tear?"

"That's... beautiful," Lux whispered. "Angels, unable to bear the suffering of mortals, weep in compassion—and those tears comfort the Lord of Light's flock."

"Then it's decided. This wine shall be called Angel's Tear."

With excitement shining in her eyes, Lux and Rus continued their meal, discussing more and more details. The more they spoke, the more enthusiastic they became.

Though to be fair, the source of Rus's enthusiasm wasn't quite the same.

Watching Lux eat was a rare and delightful spectacle. Every motion of her fingers, every parting of her lips, every swallow of her throat captivated him completely.

To see but not to touch—truly, the cruelest form of torment.

So after the meal, Rus decisively took his leave.

When he returned to the castle, Old Gordon was already waiting in his office. "My lord, the invitations are ready. Please have a look."

Rus took one and smiled with satisfaction.

The invitations were crafted from high-grade sheepskin, dyed black, with the corners dusted in gold powder and emblazoned with the Claydon family's eagle crest. The text, written in Gothic-style script with silver-flecked ink, was crisp and elegant.

In the lower right corner, there were two seals: one in red bearing the Claydon family's insignia, and beneath it, Rus's personal seal.

Unlike the popular floral cursive or the recently trendy rococo style, Rus's seal was carved in a stern, angular script that conveyed a timeless and dignified strength.

"Excellent work." Rus set the invitation on the desk. "Send them out immediately. Spare no expense—don't use the Empire's postal system. Hire the Mercenary Guild instead."

"Understood, my lord." Gordon adjusted his monocle. "Also, I've invited Master Lawrence to the castle. He's ready to take your measurements and begin tailoring your formal attire."

"How much do we have left in the treasury?" Rus asked.

"After purchasing the armor and spears, deducting the 360 gold tribute to the Imperial Council and the payment for the alchemy equipment, we were down to 58 gold."

"But yesterday, Lady Elaina transferred an additional 300 gold. That brings us to 358."

"We'll need to send 67 invitations. Using the Mercenary Guild will cost between 38 and 42 gold. Castle renovations will run at least 100. Your formal wear... I expect will cost no less than 120."

"So we'll be left with... 96 gold," Rus muttered, rubbing his temples.

He had hoped to buy a first-tier Divine Blessing Potion, but it seemed that dream would have to wait.

Seeing his concern, Gordon offered a gentle reminder. "My lord, don't be stingy. This will be a critical moment—your entrance into the noble world."

"I know." Rus exhaled and walked to the window, watching his soldiers training in the courtyard. "This will be our first real battle."

"Whether or not we restore the Claydon family's honor... depends on this."