At exactly three o'clock in the afternoon, the warm sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains and fell onto the quilt, feeling warm and cozy. Altair slowly opened her eyes in the soft bedding, the residual warmth of her nap still lingering in her mind. Her whole body felt as if it had been gently patted, leaving her so comfortable that she didn't want to move.
This morning, after finishing the weapon manufacturing, she had not rested and instead leafed through many mechanical manufacturing books. This led to Altair's lethargy at noon; she barely ate lunch before taking a nap.
She woke up now because her stomach was protesting; otherwise, with this warm sunlight, Altair could certainly have slept until evening.
After all, she had always liked sleeping under the warm sunlight on her quilt during the 'Autumn and Winter' seasons; it was a very comfortable feeling.
After getting up, Altair tugged a few times on the thin rope by the bed. When Irene came in, she stated her request: "I'm hungry, prepare afternoon tea."
When Irene entered again, she was followed by two maids who brought a pot of Sri Lankan black tea and a snack platter for Altair.
The platter had three layers: the bottom layer consisted of finger sandwiches with fillings of cucumber, egg, and ham; the middle layer featured traditional scones served with jam and cream; and the top layer held sweets like cakes and fruit tarts.
While Altair was still enjoying her afternoon tea, Old Clayton stood at the door, knocked gently, and said, "Countess Altair, I am very sorry to disturb your tea time."
"There is a small matter that requires your decision and handling."
Altair put down her teacup and nodded slightly: "Come in."
After Old Clayton pushed open the door, he walked in slowly with several documents. Placing the documents on the desk in front of Altair, he explained, "Countess Altair, it is time for this year's 'winter relief package' distribution. The people in these documents are in need of special relief."
"Mm~" After nodding, Altair picked up the documents by the table to review them.
The nobility of this era were inherently the 'natural leaders' of their localities, possessing absolute influence and power in their territories, but they were also the 'protectors of the region.'
Furthermore, because this society emphasized 'charitable responsibility,' nobles in various places would distribute relief packages every year to the lower-class citizens who were unable to work normally due to various'special circumstances.'
These relief packages usually contained survival items such as flour, potatoes, meat, thick coats, wool socks, gloves, boots, coal, and so on.
This was considered a social obligation for the upper class, as well as a matter of dignity.
The Sheffield family, being a military family, often had more empathy for the plight of orphans, widows, and veterans.
Moreover, whether soldiers were 'retired or killed in action,' they often only received a meager 'pension or compensation,' and sometimes subsidies were not even distributed.
Therefore, to ensure their survival, after every conflict ended, each generation of Sheffields would preside over the relocation issues of personnel to Morse Town.
The Sheffields would solve these people's most basic survival problems by renting out land at low prices.
But even so, there were some who could not guarantee basic survival. Such as those with missing limbs, orphans and widows, those constantly needing medicine... and so on. Most of the names on the relief list provided by Old Clayton were of this type.
As Altair flipped through page by page, she couldn't help but praise Old Clayton: "It seems my father's bold decision back then to let you independently manage 'Morse Town' was a wise choice. You have handled these matters very well."
Before Old Clayton could respond, Altair pointed with her finger and asked curiously, "What's the deal with someone like Marianne? No surname, is the information incomplete?"
"No, Countess Altair, it's because that is simply their name." After saying this, Old Clayton quickly explained further:
"As for the 'Marianne' you just mentioned, she was originally an orphan. The orphanage only gave her a Christian name and did not add a surname. Her husband 'Jack' is the same, so the information can only be registered this way."
Altair nodded slightly. The world was indeed like this. For example, Old Kohler had no full name at all, and after his death, his ash locker only had a number. If Klein hadn't carved 'Kohler' and an epitaph for him, who would have remembered him?
After searching for a bit, Altair finally found the family she expected. So she pointed to the information of this family and asked:
"What is the situation with this 'Moretti' family? According to the regulations, they should have been guided to relocate to Morse Town long ago."
Upon hearing the name, the corners of Old Clayton's mouth curled up slightly as he replied, "The Moretti family's previous head of household died ten years ago in a colonial conflict in the Southern Continent. He was a Sergeant in the Royal Army when he sacrificed himself."
"After his sacrifice, 'we' invited the remaining members of his family to relocate to Morse Town to live."
"But it was rejected. The reason was that the only adult in the family, the Mother who gave birth to the children, wanted them to continue changing their fate through schooling."
"So in the end, we could only provide her with whatever help we could at the time. I remember the result was helping her find a suitable job."
"But unfortunately, this lady's fate was not very good. She died of typhus last year due to long-term malnutrition."
"Now only Benson Moretti is working in that family. As for Klein Moretti and Melissa Moretti, they cannot work because they are still students."
Looking at Old Clayton's expression, Altair smiled and shook her head, asking further, "You admire him very much."
"Yes, Countess Altair." After saying that, Old Clayton explained, "I haven't had much interaction with him, I only see him once a year when giving out subsidies."
"But I believe that doesn't affect my understanding and appreciation of him. He knows the rules well, is good at communication, and has decent eloquence."
"But unfortunately, his education is a major flaw. He dropped out of school early to help his Mother share the family responsibilities and went to work. I've had people advise him to improve his education, but unfortunately, he hasn't studied due to various reasons."
"So what is your purpose? This record shows he is already working at a company you manage. If you just wanted to promote him, it should be simple enough without going through me," Altair asked with a smile, full of curiosity.
Old Clayton explained calmly, "Altair, you must be joking. I have no relation or friendship with him; it is purely out of appreciation."
"If I must state a purpose, he is a flawed talent I've scouted."
Altair nodded slightly because Old Clayton was telling the truth. Stewards of this era did indeed have this 'core responsibility,' but they generally wouldn't choose a 'flawed' talent like Benson Moretti.
Altair tapped her finger on the table, thought for a moment, and said, "Go send a telegram. Have him come to Morse Town tomorrow."