FTP-EP02

Aiden nodded vigorously after listening to Anje’s explanation.

 

“Come to think of it, when I first returned from the battlefield, my symptoms improved significantly after working in the fields at the farm.”

 

“Right? I always say that farming has a healing power.”

 

This time, he got up from his seat with determination.

 

“I’ll contact my comrades again and let them know the location of the Dilton farm. It would be great for them to come and learn firsthand.”

 

“That’s right. Oh, wait! I have an even better idea.”

 

Anje, excited, grabbed his sleeve tightly.

 

“How about establishing a school?”

 

Since they had returned to the capital and had plenty of extra funds, she wanted to indulge in a grand, noble-born luxury for the first time in a while.

 

“A school? You mean a place where students come to study?”

 

“Yes. There are many others besides your comrades who have returned from the war, so we could create a specialized institution where they all learn together—horticulture, agriculture, things like that.”

 

Aiden’s eyes sparkled as brightly as hers.

 

“A school… That does sound like a great system for soldiers. They tend to prefer being part of an organization.”

 

For those struggling to find a place in society, the feeling of belonging to a group would be invaluable.

 

Anje continued developing her idea.

 

“Those who complete the program successfully will receive a diploma and a letter of recommendation to make it easier for them to find jobs at farms later on.”

 

“If suitable jobs aren’t available, we could even help them settle in Leslie as farmers.”

 

“Exactly. The land there is cheap, the weather is mild, and the villagers are all kind. Even if newcomers struggle with socializing, they’ll be understanding.”

 

The conversation flowed endlessly—how to promote the school to scattered soldiers, whether to establish it in the capital or on the outskirts, and more.

 

“To teach a large number of people, we’ll need multiple instructors. Not just you, Aiden—perhaps we could recruit some retired farmers as well.”

 

“How about you becoming a teacher too? Seeing how you taught Aunt Meg how to read, you seem to have a knack for education.”

 

“If I were to take a role, I’d want to be the headmaster. Believe it or not, I enjoy having authority.”

 

They exchanged ideas enthusiastically until their lukewarm tea ran out, only stopping when they noticed the sun had completely set outside.

 

“We should look into what procedures are needed to establish a school and decide on the details later.”

 

“I’ll call a lawyer first thing tomorrow. It’d also be good to hear your comrades’ opinions—why don’t you invite them to the Duke’s estate this time?”

 

Smiling, she linked arms with her husband as he escorted her. There was still a long way to go before the school became a reality, but one thing had been firmly decided in her heart.

 

‘If we establish a farm school, its name will be…’

 

「Dilton Farm School」

 

Just like their Dilton farm, she wanted to include the name “Dilton” in the school’s name—to honor the spirit and soul of the place she loved so dearly.

 

But if she said that out loud, he would stubbornly insist on naming it after her instead. He’d argue that it was unfair to use his family name when it was her idea.

 

Anje began pondering how to persuade him. How could she best coax Aiden, who became impossibly stubborn when it came to matters concerning her?

 

“Hmmm.”

 

Hearing her sigh, Aiden tilted his head and looked at her curiously. Worried he might get concerned, she quickly shook her head.

 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just curious how this dress looks—this is my first time wearing it today.”

 

He let out a playful chuckle and gently pinched her cheek.

 

“My apologies. I meant to compliment you the moment I saw you. You’re wearing a new dress, no less.”

 

Anje appreciated his attention to such details. However, his next words made her boil inside.

 

“It looks great on you. Very cute. What was it…? Ah, right. Like a Maltese. So fluffy.”

 

“A M-Maltese…?”

 

Did he just compare her—dressed in this elegant, mature masterpiece by Jean-Pierre—to a puppy?

 

‘First… I need to get him to the bedroom.’

 

Dinner would have to be skipped. Determined to show him the true strength of a small dog, Anje strode forward with a sense of purpose.

 

TL/N: EHEEM… ANJE YOU BECAME SO BOLD BOLD…

 

* * *

 

Although the couple had a long and intense debate over naming the school, the establishment of the Dilton Farm School progressed swiftly.

 

TL/N: HOW WAS THE SO INTENSE DEBATE LIKE XD LOVE THE WOMAN FOR PROVING HER POINT NO MATTER WHAT ☝️

 

The land was chosen for its fertile soil and tranquil surroundings, and a large greenhouse was built to cultivate various plants regardless of the season. Lodges of different sizes were also prepared to accommodate students traveling from afar.

 

Unbeknownst to the couple, the necessary permits for establishing the school were immediately granted by the imperial court, which had been closely monitoring their activities.

 

For Emperor William, there was no reason to refuse, as the school offered a solution to the long-standing issue of reintegrating discharged soldiers.

 

Though there was a brief concern about what would happen if only a few students enrolled after all their hard work, it was quickly set aside.

 

「We are recruiting dedicated students among discharged soldiers. Full tuition-free. Dilton Farm School」

 

The response to the newspaper advertisement was overwhelming, to the point where the postman struggled to carry all the incoming letters.

 

“It was definitely worth spending extra to place a full-page ad.”

 

Anje grinned with satisfaction, proud of her idea. Her past experiences of being drawn to luxury advertisements in *La Mode Illustrée* had helped her come up with an appealing illustration and persuasive ad copy.

 

「To the generous Fitzroy couple, I am a former soldier of the Alford battalion…」

 

「I am certain I will be an indispensable talent and will dedicate myself to the curriculum…」

 

Along with passionate students, the advertisement brought forth unexpected and joyful connections.

 

The first of these was Dr. Wilfred, who applied to become the school’s physician. He met the Fitzroys with wide, eager eyes behind his glasses and spoke in an excited tone.

 

“I have always insisted that soldiers suffering from neurosis need plants, not milk or electric shocks. But no one ever took me seriously.”

 

Wilfred had been researching the peculiar symptoms commonly observed in returning war veterans. He found a new approach through his personal hobby—gardening.

 

“Doesn’t looking at trees and flowers naturally bring peace to the mind? Sweating while working makes past sufferings fade away quickly. Nature is the true cure for various neuroses!”

 

For him, the Dilton Farm School was the perfect opportunity to validate his hypothesis.

 

After verifying Wilfred’s professional reputation and conducting a lengthy two-on-one interview, Anje and Aiden decided to appoint him as the school’s physician.

 

He was not the type to recklessly prescribe dubious treatments, and he had the necessary medical skills to help students when injuries occurred.

 

Moreover, if he could successfully compile and present the school’s case studies, it could offer a new therapeutic approach for those suffering from mental illnesses.

 

The second unexpected connection came from someone quite familiar to them—a resident of Leslie.

 

“Mrs. Fitzroy! Sir Aiden! What a pleasure to see you in the capital. I mean—greetings!”

 

“Mr. Pierre! What brings you here?”

 

“Weren’t you supposed to be in Rutes?”

 

“Haha, due to some circumstances, I had to return earlier than planned.”

 

Jean Pierre offered them an awkward smile and a polite bow.

 

Jean-Pierre gave them a slight bow with an awkward smile.

 

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the person he had chosen as his muse would be a noble lady from a prestigious ducal family.

 

On top of that, the mansion where the couple was staying was so grand that, despite mustering the courage to visit after seeing the name in the ad, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

 

However, since he had come all this way, he couldn’t back out now.

 

“I heard you are establishing a farm school. If the students need clothing, I would love to offer my help.”

 

Anje and Aiden exchanged surprised glances.

 

“We would certainly appreciate that kind of support. We were just discussing how having uniforms might help the students feel a stronger sense of belonging to the school.”

 

Considering the students’ ages, “uniforms” might be better described as “work attire” rather than school uniforms.

 

Anje, pleased but thoughtful, added her concerns.

 

“But Mr. Pierre, isn’t your design style more suited for dresses and tailcoats rather than farm work attire? I recall you went to Francia to observe the latest aristocratic fashion trends.”

 

“That was my original intent.”

 

Jean Pierre—real name Jean Penny—smiled wryly.

 

“But when I visited those high-end ateliers and saw the clothes of the nobility firsthand…”

 

He had actually been invited to Lutes by a renowned atelier owner. The chief designer, after reviewing the sketches Jean had sent, had deemed them ‘somewhat crude and rustic but showing promise.’

 

However, upon seeing the luxurious garments up close, instead of excitement, Jean felt a strange sense of disillusionment.

 

‘Are these really good clothes?’

 

Despite their beauty, the tight corsets that seemed to endanger one’s health, the excessively high heels that made walking nearly impossible, and the heavy hats that were a burden on the neck—these designs felt more restrictive than elegant.

 

Having previously designed a dress for Anje, he had always valued practicality alongside aesthetics.

 

If clothing made the wearer uncomfortable and burdensome, wasn’t that a case of the object being valued more than the person?

 

* * * *

 

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