The Scarred Queen's Rise (Athena) novel Chapter 764

**Title: Fake Girl 764**

**Chapter 764**

“What do you mean by that?” The elderly woman’s eyes narrowed as she thrust the pottery jar forcefully into the doorman’s hands, her voice rising with indignation. “When my grandson fell ill with smallpox, it was none other than the Princess Consort who arranged for the medicine to be sent to us.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, the weight of her words hanging in the air. “And last winter, during that harsh snowstorm, it was the manor that opened its granaries, allowing us to access the grain we desperately needed. Now, after all that the Princess Consort has endured, how can we, in good conscience, not offer something in return to express our gratitude?”

As if on cue, the crowd erupted in agreement, their voices rising in a cacophony that echoed through the manor grounds, stirring the atmosphere with a sense of urgency.

Alexandra, wrapped in a heavy cloak that fluttered slightly in the chilly breeze, made her way toward the gate. Upon her arrival, she immediately noticed the doorman, his face flushed and his neck straining with the effort of trying to placate the throng of people surrounding him.

The sounds of bleating goats mingled with the joyful laughter of children, transforming the once solemn entrance of the manor into something reminiscent of a bustling marketplace.

As soon as Alexandra stepped into view, the crowd fell silent, their expressions shifting from chaos to awe. They had not forgotten that Alexandra was a woman, yet she was no ordinary woman. She wielded a spear with unparalleled skill, her prowess in battle having carved her name into the hearts of the people.

“Quiet down,” she commanded, her voice gentle yet imbued with an unmistakable authority that demanded respect.

Instantly, the crowd hushed, their eyes turning toward her, eager to hear what she had to say.

Alexandra’s gaze swept over the mountain of food that had been brought forth—everything from fresh eggs to live poultry. Among the offerings, she spotted a small child clutching a piece of malt sugar wrapped in bright red cloth, a symbol of their goodwill.

Her mind drifted back to the days when Arthur was still alive. Xander Manor had always been a beacon of support for the community. Arthur would often say, “The support of the people is the best armor.” In that moment, she realized how true those words had been, resonating deeply within her.

Turning to the gatekeeper, she instructed firmly, “Move everything to the back kitchen.”

The gatekeeper blinked in surprise, momentarily speechless. “Alexandra, this…”

“Just do it,” she interjected with a warm smile, her eyes scanning the eager faces of the people before her. “The manor graciously accepts everyone’s goodwill.”

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