Chapter 45

In the castle's basement, a faint musty smell lingered in the air, along with the stench of rotting barley and straw—it was extremely unpleasant.

Because of years of neglect and the lack of servants to clean and inspect the area, a thick layer of sewage had accumulated in the basement. Stepping into it, one could feel a soft, unidentifiable substance.

Tick-tock, tick-tock—

Water droplets were constantly dripping from the ceiling above.

Count Hugh O'Neill, disregarding the filth, squatted on the ground, repeatedly trying to open the rusty lock with his key, only to fail again and again. Finally, in a fit of anger, he threw the key into the puddle and stomped on it twice.

Mary stood beside Earl Dillon, lighting his way with a small candle the size of a knuckle burning in her hand. This was the only light source in the basement and had to be carefully protected.

“Damn Englishmen!” said Earl Dillon.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps and the sound of something being rummaged through came from upstairs!

Albert immediately covered Seton's mouth to muffle her low sobs, and put his finger to his lips to signal Earl Dillon not to make a sound, lest the Englishmen who were searching discover the basement.

Mary immediately blew out the candle in her hand.

After a while, the commotion above subsided.

“Miss, what should we do now?” Seton asked, her voice trembling with tears.

"What do we do now?" Albert asked as well.

In the darkness, Mary suppressed the urge to sigh, gently turning the smooth, round candle in her hand, also pondering this question.

...

Let's rewind to four hours ago.

Mary, posing as Emma Wilson, jumped off the carriage and entered the Earl of Desmond's castle.

Lord Gerald Desmond and his nephew, Lord Hugh O'Neill Dillon, were waiting at the castle gates to greet their guests.

Both of these native Irish nobles had typical Celtic features: red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. Earl Desmond was in his prime, with a beard covering half his face, making him look like a bear. Earl Dillon looked to be only sixteen or seventeen, with a slender build and sharp eyes.

The two people were of vastly different build, one fat and one thin, and the contrast was particularly striking when they stood on the steps.

After the necessary pleasantries, Count Desmond solemnly led the way himself to welcome Mary into the banquet hall, and invited the Countess and her children to accompany her.

The banquet table was laden with dishes, a testament to the host's meticulous preparation and efforts to create a solemn and dignified atmosphere. However, after tasting a few bites, Mary gleaned from subtle details that the host's resources and wealth were merely superficially impressive.

For example, a turtle soup doesn't use a real turtle the size of an adult's head; instead, it uses the skull of a calf and a few small turtles for seasoning. Another example is a sugar figurine shaped like the Virgin Mary that is hollow instead of a perfect rock sugar model. There are also instances of the dishes having scarce or slightly spoiled spices...

“To be honest, Miss Wilson, when I sent out the invitation to the guild master, I did not expect to be greeted by such a young and beautiful lady as you,” said Earl Desmond.

"What kind of person do you expect to meet, Earl?" Mary asked.

“I thought it would be the gentleman beside you,” Earl Desmond said frankly.

"In fact, I am merely a shield in the hands of this young lady beside me, protecting her from some insignificant physical harm and from some unnecessary gossip," Albert, using the alias Edwards, said with a smile.

“This is truly unexpected…” said Earl Desmond, raising his wine glass to Mary, and continued, “…Miss Emma, ​​may I call you that? I have heard of your incredibly kind actions in the castle, and I should also thank you for the sake of the Irish people who have been helped.”

Mary also raised her glass to Earl Desmond and said, “You don’t need to thank me. Instead, you should thank another very noble person in Edinburgh, Scotland. I am just an ordinary pawn in her game, here to carry out her will.”

Count Desmond leaned forward slightly, then sat up straight and said, "Madam, who are you referring to?"

“There’s no need for you to try and probe, and I have no interest in engaging in roundabout conversation with you. It is indeed the Queen of Scots. Haven’t you already guessed it? That’s why there’s this invitation and banquet,” Mary said, putting down her knife and fork.

Otherwise, an ordinary merchant, no matter how many good deeds he does, would not deserve an invitation from a proud and arrogant nobleman.

After arriving in Ireland, she consistently used the name Emma Wilson.

This newly emerging merchant family in Scotland was looked down upon by some nobles, but no one could deny that they were highly trusted by the Queen of Scots. The father, Glenn Wilson, managed the snow salt business in England, earning huge sums of gold pounds for Scotland. The daughter, Emma Wilson, served as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen and also helped with some paperwork. Even a distant relative was sent to Italy to purchase luxury goods for the Queen of Scots' court.

These things are no secret; you can find out by asking around.

“Scotland and Ireland share common ancestors, the Celts, a common Catholic faith, and a common enemy—the English who arbitrarily bully and oppress us. This is enough to make the Queen feel compassion and extend a helping hand to Ireland,” Mary smiled.

The Earl of Desmond's breathing quickened as Mary spoke, his eyes almost gleaming with excitement, yet he maintained his last shred of composure, saying, "I am incredibly grateful to that Queen, but I must first make it clear that a war with England has devastated Ireland. The people here are impoverished and desperately need to recuperate; they simply cannot sustain another war. If that Queen desires Ireland to openly declare independence and then form an alliance with Scotland, please forgive me for not being able to do so."

You're overthinking it.

"If Ireland were to go to war with England again, given its current national strength, it would be like fighting an egg against a pebble, according to an old Eastern saying. The egg would be shattered, while the pebble would remain unharmed."

"Moreover, what our Queen needs is not Ireland's alliance, but Ireland's allegiance." Mary said the last sentence with a posture that was both polite and extremely firm.

Count Desmond frowned and let out a cold laugh from his throat.

"Ha, how ridiculous! So you're plotting the same thing as the English!"

“Listen, Miss Emma, ​​the Irish will have an Irish king, and beyond that, we reject any oppression!”

"Moreover, even if we continue to submit, we will not abandon a powerful England in favor of a weak Scotland!"

"What the Queen of Scots brought was not the oppression of the British, but a truly just monarch who could treat all her subjects equally... Have you heard of what our Queen has done in Scotland these past few years? She has greatly enhanced the strength of the entire country, the common people live in peace and prosperity, the nobles are loyal and devoted, and even beggars on the street can go to the relief center for a bowl of oatmeal and then have a good night's sleep in a feather coop, instead of freezing to death on the roadside in winter," Mary asked.

Count Desmond's expression shifted, a mixture of jealousy and envy.

Not only him, but everyone at the table was speechless.

Mary, the Queen's actions in Scotland over the past few years have been legendary throughout the British Isles.

Even the homeless on the streets knew what a rough, poor, and desolate country Scotland was. Throughout the Stuart dynasty, no king could rule Scotland peacefully. Not to mention the threats from the common people, England, and religion, the powerful nobles within the country, whose influence surpassed that of the king, were enough to endanger the king's life.

Everyone knew that James I and James III had died at the hands of nobles, but no one dared to say who the real murderer was. Instead, they assigned a few so-called street thieves to behead and pretend to be the murderers.

When James V was dying of a serious illness, he heard that the Queen had given birth to a daughter who would inherit the throne. He left behind a heartbreaking and desperate last message, saying that the Stuart throne was gained by a woman and would also be lost by a woman.

Yet this queen, whom everyone doubted, accomplished something that no Scottish king had ever done before.

With lightning speed, she beheaded the Protestant leader, Reverend Maurice, quelling the religious conflict in Scotland. Step by step, she transformed herself from a figurehead into a truly powerful queen. Recently, she used several high-ranking suitors to force the British Parliament to recognize the Queen of Scots' first right of succession to the United Kingdom. She also completely wiped out the Scottish nobles who dared to disobey her, making Scotland a country under her control.

Besides, what the Irish envied most was how Scotland became more and more prosperous under the Queen's rule.

It is said that the streets of Edinburgh are cleaner than those of London because of the construction of the sewer system, so there is no sewage overflow even on rainy days. A large number of newborns are born everywhere, farmers have food to feed their children, and even homeless people can get a bowl of porridge. Even common plagues and fevers have not broken out for several years.

These messages, when they reached the ears of the suffering Irish, sounded as tempting as a legendary paradise filled with milk and honey.

"...Of course we've heard that the Queen of Scots is just like the legendary King Arthur!" Earl Dillon exclaimed excitedly, breaking the silence in the banquet hall.

Mary tilted her head slightly and gave him an encouraging smile.

"The British consider you their enemies, while the Scots consider you their compatriots. If you wish, Her Majesty the Queen will generously provide technical and agricultural support to make Ireland as good as Scotland," Mary promised.

Count Desmond had to admit that he was smitten for a moment.

“That’s just your side of the story. What proof do you have?” Count Desmond said.

“To demonstrate her sincerity, Her Majesty the Queen has brought a gift for the Irish nobles,” Mary said.

Seton, who had been listening in, stood up, took a few potatoes from his small box, placed them on a tray, and handed them to a servant to present to Earl Desmond.

Count Desmond looked on with suspicion and curiosity, reached out and picked up the cleaned, round, brown object, placed it in his palm, and examined it several times.

"What is this? It can't possibly be the fruit of knowledge from the Garden of Eden that His Majesty would value so highly," said Count Desmond.

“This is a potato, the root of a plant, a completely new food that Spain brought back from the New World. It doesn’t require good farmland to grow; it can be planted on any fertile hillside. It grows very quickly, taking only 60 to 100 days to mature, so it can be harvested twice a year. Most importantly, potatoes yield six times more than wheat,” Mary said calmly.

The entire area on both sides of the dining table fell silent.

Count Desmond's hand trembled, and the potato slipped from his hand, rolling to the ground along with a silver spoon.

Earl Dillon immediately squatted down, ignoring the precious silver spoon, and carefully picked up the potato, handing it back to his uncle.

“…Miss Emma, ​​what did you say?” Count Desmond said in a daze.