Short Story: Princess Mia... Finds Friendship Through Mutual (Mis-?)Understanding

"You're making this rather difficult, Lord Radnor. The collection of taxes is vital to the well-being of the Empire. As a noble, I'm sure you're well aware of your obligation to pay them..." Ludwig said to the middle-aged man standing before him.

They were in the manor of the Baron of Radnor, and judging from the ugly grimace on the man's face, Lord Radnor was not glad to see them. Ludwig sighed.

"Here, you see, is the amount you reported to the Golden Moon Ministry." He handed the baron a parchment with numbers written on it. "And here is the amount you actually collected from the people of your barony. Now, if I could draw your attention to the rather conspicuous discrepancy between them, which I hope will make clear the purpose of my visit..."

He stopped himself from adding, "you thieving bastard," but he couldn't withhold a tsk.

Parchment isn't cheap, you know.

"Certainly, certainly. It's not that I'm opposed to paying, you see," said Lord Radnor, barely managing to maintain a strained smile as he scanned the parchment, "but I can't help but wonder what would happen if Lord Bluemoon were to hear..."

The Baron was referring to one of the Four Dukes of Tearmoon, Lord Bluemoon, whose faction he belonged to.

"...That a good friend of his was being harassed so aggressively over the matter of taxes. I trust you understand my concern?"

Radnor put on a face that was likely meant to intimidate, but Ludwig simply shrugged.

"Of course. I'm perfectly aware that if Lord Bluemoon were to learn that a bit of tax evasion might sour his own relations with Her Highness, it would be rather worrisome... for you," he said, regarding the baron through his glasses.

Seeing that Ludwig was completely undaunted by his threat, Radnor's expression clouded with unease for the first time. As the implications of Ludwig's statement fully dawned on him, he realized the precariousness of his situation. The duke would have to consider whether Radnor was worth protecting if it came at the cost of worsening Mia's impression of him. Between a baron and the Princess, which way would the scales tip?

Of course, in reality, the Duke of Bluemoon would undoubtedly lodge a formal complaint if he heard that a mere Golden Moon official had the nerve to reprimand a noble from his own faction. Even with the Princess's backing, Bluemoon would still be a formidable foe. The Four Dukes had so much power in the Empire that even Mia herself had to tread carefully around them, never mind a mere government official like him.

That was why it was vital that Ludwig assume this attitude of supreme confidence. The slightest hint of apprehension would shatter the facade and allow Radnor to regain his composure. Seeing that the baron was visibly shaken, he continued his assault.

"I ask merely that the correct amount be paid. The discrepancy between your original report and your... late payment are of little concern. Her Highness has no intention of taking issue with such matters. She has said — and I quote — 'Anyone can make a mistake.'"

Ludwig was making it clear that so long as the baron paid up, he'd let the whole thing slide. Rather than submitting a false return, the incident would be recorded as an accounting error or a transcription mistake — not intentional tax evasion but an oversight that led to a payment delay. Ludwig took the carrot of simultaneously avoiding both a criminal charge and a potential power struggle with the princess and placed it onto Radnor's proverbial scale. It tipped immediately.

"W-Well, in that case..." The baron put on a servile smile and nodded. "I shall have the sum prepared immediately. After coming all this way, we certainly can't have you returning empty-handed now, can we? And if you don't mind... when you see Her Highness, I'd appreciate it if you could put a good word in."

"Very well. Consider it done, then."

He spared one final, disdainful glance at Radnor before turning away, feeling the strong desire to let out a deep sigh.

"I swear, it's as if these people aren't even thinking..." Ludwig rubbed at his temples, nursing the mild headache he'd had since returning to his office at the Golden Moon Ministry. "Why commit such obvious fraud? You're just going to get caught! You might as well not do it to begin with... If only all the nobles were as wise as Her Highness. This would be so much easier." He sighed and shook his head. "Well, a man can dream, can't he?"

"Hey, are those new wrinkles on your face or are you just happy to see me?"

Ludwig looked up with a start to find a man standing in his doorway. He had a rich crop of blond hair with a well-trimmed beard. His brown eyes radiated intelligence, and he had a disarming smile. Ludwig grinned back at the nostalgic sight of the man.

"Ah, Balthazar. It's been a while. When did you return to the capital?"

"Just arrived this afternoon. I heard you were looking for me, so I came straight here."

Balthazar Brandt was an old friend of Ludwig's who worked at the Scarlet Moon Ministry. As the third son of a count, he'd been born into a comfortable life. Regardless, the trappings of luxury had failed to quench the flame of his talent. Seeking to test the extent of his gifts, he came to the capital and studied under the most prestigious scholar in the city. Under this scholar's tutelage, he not only gained much knowledge but also met Ludwig. Soon after, he took the Scarlet Moon Ministry's employment exam, passed it, and began making a name for himself as a young but fully capable official.

"I didn't think I'd be able to meet with you this soon... It looks like fortune has smiled upon me," said Ludwig as he breathed a sigh of relief.

He hadn't requested a meeting with Balthazar to reminisce about old times. Though he had the backing of the Princess of Tearmoon, he was nonetheless just a public servant. In his capacity as an official of the Golden Moon Ministry, he'd been very vocal about abolishing policies that unnecessarily favored the nobility, and he put a lot of work into ensuring taxes were collected fairly and equitably. And for nobles like the Baron of Radnor, whose power and obstinacy gave even his peers pause, he'd gone as far as to pay personal visits to them. His efforts often put him in conflict with the factions of the Four Dukes, and he'd earned himself a reputation among noble circles as a busybody who was a constant thorn in their sides.

That, however, was the extent of his accomplishments. There was a limit to what he could do from within the Golden Moon Ministry, which handled taxes and financial matters. The Empire was too large an entity to be fixed under his power alone. Therefore, he needed friends — comrades who shared his vision and supported his cause.

The two of them made their way to a familiar restaurant and sat down in a private room. Immediately, Balthazar asked, "So, what's the deal, Ludwig? Did you call me here just to show me your new wrinkles?"

"Would you quit it with the wrinkles? I swear... Still, I won't deny that I've been busy. The fatigue is starting to catch up to me..."

Ludwig fought back a yawn and shrugged.

"I hear you've been stepping on a lot of toes recently. Really cracking down on things, aren't you?"

Balthazar came from a distinguished line of central nobility. It wasn't surprising that his family had heard some rumors.

"The folks back home have been talking about you, you know..." he continued. "Oh, but don't get the wrong idea. None of my people are involved in any fraudulent activity."

"I know."

The two smiled at each other. Ludwig's smile was wry, whereas Balthazar's was sardonic.

"Of course, if you do catch them doing anything shady, then feel free to penalize them as you see fit. Don't go easy on them because of me. Rampant tax fraud can bring a country to its knees. We must always be wary of forces that seek to corrupt the moral fiber of the Empire."

Balthazar was a thorough rationalist who would spare no mercy for even his own family if faced with their wrongdoing. His absolutism was what Ludwig most admired in him.

"What you say is true, but what concerns me more than tax fraud, honestly, are the discriminatory views that are so firmly entrenched in this Empire..."

"Huh. Discriminative views, you say..."

The drinks they ordered arrived. Balthazar took a sip as he gave Ludwig a look that challenged this claim.

"I'll grant you that there exists discrimination toward some minority tribes in remote regions, but is it really a big enough problem to be worthy of such concern? Things seem fine to me right now..."

"Would you stop playing dumb already? Look, the truth is, I actually tried proposing this to the Baron of Radnor already. I asked him if he'd be willing to open his land to cultivation. His barony isn't that big, but it's flat and it has rivers, making it perfect for growing crops. I even offered him subsidies. Guess how that went?" Ludwig sighed. "It was like talking to a brick wall."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised," said Balthazar. He folded his arms and nodded. "I doubt there are a whole lot of nobles who'd willingly turn their domain into farmland."

The tendency to look down on farmers and agriculture, the low rate of self-sufficiency it caused, and the enormous importation costs that were required to sustain the supply of food... These were the issues that kept Ludwig up at night.

"Unless we solve this problem, I fear the Empire has no future."

The roots of the problem ran deep, and discrimination toward agriculture in the Empire could be traced all the way back to when it first came to power. The land that the Tearmoon Empire currently occupied was a fertile region once known as the Crescent Belt. A seed sowed there would easily reap ten or even twenty times the reward. The people in the region sustained themselves through farming. With abundant resources and plentiful harvests, they lived easy lives and saw little conflict... Until they were invaded by a foreign tribe of hunter-gatherers. Having repurposed their hunting techniques for war, they quickly subjugated all the native residents of the region. Thenceforth, the conquered were mocked by their new masters, who referred to them as "slaves of the land." Ridiculed as spineless and inept, they were given labels such as "those without the courage to hunt" and "those with no talent but that of tilling the land."

After gaining access to a steady source of food and a supply of laborers in the form of their new serfs, the hunter-gatherers grew richer and richer. At some point, they began to refer to themselves as nobles. And the man who was once the brave leader of their tribe became the First Emperor of the Empire. Ever since then, farmers had always occupied a low spot in the social hierarchy of the Empire. Though the archaic system of serfdom had long been abolished, discrimination remained alive and well, stemming from the deeply-rooted notion that farming was for those who lacked the talent to do anything else.

The result of this was that nowadays, nobles were unwilling to use their land for agriculture. Of course, they allowed for the bare minimum of farming to supply themselves with food, but they much preferred importing and relied on it whenever possible. The last thing they wanted was to turn their existing territory into new farmland.

This was the ultimate irony of Tearmoon — an Empire erected upon vast swathes of fertile land that despised its own blessing. That twisted notion was what Ludwig now stood against. The towering opponent he intended to do battle with was none other than the very history and tradition of the Empire itself.

"In our current state, we're reliant on neighboring kingdoms for food production. That's far too risky. If they ever suffer a famine, those kingdoms will undoubtedly prioritize themselves. Unless we increase our domestic production and improve our rate of self-sufficiency, the Empire has no future."

"What you say is true, but, it is also extremely difficult," said Balthazar, grimacing as he considered the implications.

With the gaze of an angler fishing for a meal, Ludwig leaned forward.

"The reason I wanted to speak to you is to inquire about the state of things out there. Those nobles in the Outlands... How are they doing?"

"Probably exactly as you suspect."

The areas that were, relatively speaking, newly absorbed into the Empire were known as the imperial Outlands. The rulers of those regions were referred to as Outland nobles. Before being incorporated into the Empire, the practice of agriculture there had been perfectly normal, and their people were simple farmers who felt no shame in tilling the land. Once they became a part of Tearmoon, however, they were ridiculed by the central nobility, who saw them as country bumpkins and called them Outland nobles. Those who appreciated this treatment were few and far between.

"As time passes, everyone falls into line and tries to reduce their farmland. The Scarlet Moon Ministry has rules that limit the amount of farmland that can be repurposed... but rules can be bent, so long as there is money."

There was a growing desire among Outland nobles to use their land for purposes other than farming. It wasn't as strong as in the central nobility, but the trend was clear.

"The Outcount of Rudolvon is one of those rare nobles who is determined to maintain his lands for agriculture, but there are very few like him."

Even with imports, balancing supply with demand was always like walking a tightrope, and the rope was getting thinner by the day. The gradual decline in crop production, while not yet fatal, was undeniably pernicious. Ludwig couldn't help but see it as a slow poison that, drop by drop, was being fed into the mouth of an unsuspecting Empire.

"On that note, what about our dear Princess, who you never stop talking about? Does Her Sagely Highness have a good understanding of the problems we're dealing with?"

Ludwig, who until moments before had been steeping in a quagmire of his own pessimism, perked up at the mention of Mia. The situation might have seemed hopeless... but it wasn't. He knew where hope lay.

"Yesterday, I received a letter from Her Highness. It was the first one she'd sent since leaving for the academy..." He broke into a knowing smile. "In it, she mentioned attending her first meet-and-greet party. Where do you think it was held?"

"Do tell."

"Perujin Agricultural Country."

Balthazar drew a breath. There was a hint of awe in his widened eyes.

"Now that... is interesting."

Perujin Agricultural Country bordered Tearmoon to the southwest. With farmers comprising eighty percent of its population, though it was fairly large in size, its military and economic power paled in comparison to the Empire. As a result, in the eyes of Tearmoon, it was regarded as a minor country barely worthy of consideration. Mentions of Perujin were frequently accompanied by such remarks as "second-rate," "a country of serfs," and "undeveloped and uncivilized..."

Sadly, the prejudice of these gossipy nobles blinded them to the truth. A significant portion of the food consumed by their proud Empire was imported from the country they so disdained. In choosing derision and ignorance over blatant facts, they effectively proved how gravely they suffered from this disease of thoughtlessness.

"A country that's dismissed by nobles but is actually of great importance to the Empire, huh... If this was a diplomatic move backed by insight, then the implications are... By god."

"This is Her Highness we're talking about, you know? Chances are it was all calculated. And there's still more to the letter. Guess what came next?"

"Listen well, Rania. I've said this once and I'll say it again. Make absolutely sure there is no discourtesy done to the guests from the Empire."

"Yes, I'll make sure of that, Father."

The Third Princess of Perujin Agricultural Country, Rania Tafrif Perujin, gave a rote answer, hiding her reluctance behind the delicate veil that covered her face.

"Again, I must emphasize the importance of the Empire for our industries —"

"Do not worry, Father. I will ensure that everything proceeds smoothly," said Rania, cutting her father off. She didn't need to hear the rest. He'd been saying the same thing for years, ever since she first attended Saint-Noel.

Not that it matters. It's not like anyone worthwhile is going to show up from the Empire, she thought. She didn't talk back to him, but she mouthed this argument silently.

She hadn't always been like this. Since childhood she'd had a strong sense of responsibility. As a princess of Perujin, she saw it as her duty to shoulder the future of her country. With that in mind, she'd enrolled at Saint-Noel Academy.

Every year in the early spring, the academy's Perugian students would host a meet-and-greet, to which they'd invite the Tearmoon students for the purposes of fostering communication and — more importantly — treating the young nobles to food and crops produced in Perujin. Those Tearmoon students would all eventually inherit their parents' titles and occupy important positions within the Empire. Getting on friendly terms with them early on would benefit Perujin in the future, which was exactly what the party was for.

When Rania first began her schooling, she put her heart and soul into the preparations for this party, truly believing it was in the best interests of her country. She procured the choicest harvests, sought advice for suitable recipes, and spent many late nights planning with her friends, all so that they could provide their Tearmoon guests with the best experience possible. When the day came, however, reality betrayed her. Only a handful of students showed up, the families of whom were all lower-ranked nobles. They all wore the same listless expression that suggested forced participation, and it was immediately clear that none of them wanted to be there.

At first, Rania couldn't comprehend the jarring disparity in attitude. Why had they received such an apathetic group of visitors? The answer came from — of all people — her own older sister.

A country of serfs. Second-rate. Tributary.

These were the terms used by Tearmoon nobles to describe Perujin. She learned that her sister had done the same thing years before, enduring the same humiliation to humor groups of reluctant Tearmoon guests. The weary smile her sister wore as she recounted these experiences made Rania shake with indignation, but all she could do was clench her teeth, make a tight fist, and swallow her anger.

Because she knew the truth: for the weak, the only choice was to endure. If relations with Tearmoon soured and war erupted, Perujin would be crushed like an ant. Ever since that day, she'd lost all passion.

And now, with the annual meet-and-greet fast approaching, her mood had hit rock bottom. Just thinking about it made her want to retch. Her reluctance was entirely within reason; nobody looked forward to having the fruits of their painstaking labor mocked as cheap country food.

"Ugh, I hate this. I wish the party would just get canceled..."

With that, an idea came to her.

"...It's all a farce anyway. Might as well have some fun."

She decided to play a prank. She went to the platters of food that were being prepared for the party... and secretly added in some preserved food that had gone stale long since.

With agriculture being its primary industry, Perujin invested heavily in researching techniques to preserve grains, allowing them to keep for much longer. Though flavor did suffer, it was a small difference that only the most discerning tongues noticed. Considering the fact that Tearmoon had sent nothing but second-tier nobles, there was no way they could ever tell the difference. Rania smiled as she imagined watching the clueless dolts gleefully eating a bunch of stale food. It'd be small comfort, but at least she'd get a kick out of it. Alas, in what was perhaps karmic punishment for her spiteful heart, her mischief ultimately came back to haunt her.

"Princess Rania, please accept my sincerest gratitude for inviting us to such a wonderful party filled with so many splendid exhibits."

When the guests arrived on the day of the party, Rania's jaw hit the floor.

Wh-Wh-Wha— Why?! How?!

"I am Mia Luna Tearmoon, Princess of the Tearmoon Empire. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Leading the group of students was none other than the VIP of VIPs, dear daughter of the reigning Emperor, Princess Mia herself!

Okay, deep breaths! Deeeeep breaths! Calm down, Rania, she thought, trying not to panic.

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness. I am Rania Tafrif Perujin, Third Princess of Perujin Agricultural Country. Thank you very much for coming to our party. Please make yourselves at home and enjoy these delicious Perujin treats," she said, bowing deeply. When she looked up, however, her breath caught in her throat.

Princess Mia, with her deep blue eyes and crystalline gaze, was looking her straight in the face.

"Hyaa— Ah, um, Y-Your Highness...?"

"Eh? Oh, I'm sorry. Don't mind me."

Mia's placid tone failed to calm Rania's fluttering heart.

It... It was like she saw straight through me...

Then Rania remembered. Mia Luna Tearmoon had another title; there were those who referred to her as the Great Sage of the Empire.

Did she see straight through my prank too...? N-No, that can't be. She can't possibly know. There are plenty of snacks and sweets, and it's totally possible she won't get around to eating that one. I should be fine, she thought as she ran her gaze across the variety of platters that covered the tables. There were so many — almost as many as the butterflies fluttering nervously in her stomach.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Don't mind me."

After spending a long second staring at Rania's face, Mia shook her head. The girl had a healthy tan, and there was a charming beauty to her features. Her dark hair had soaked in the color of the night sky, and her eyes glowed with the deep green of a lush summer forest.

Ah, right. I do remember her features being something like this. Now that I've gotten a good look though, I won't forget again! she thought, feeling a sense of satisfaction after fully taking in the details of the girl's face.

Her thoughts wandered to a memory from the previous timeline. It was the year the Empire was struck by a terrible famine. At the time, Ludwig had been working round the clock trying to procure enough food for the empire.

"Your Highness... if I may be so bold as to speak frankly about my frustrations..." said past-Ludwig. A vein throbbed in his temple and his cheek twitched.

"A-Actually, you may not..." Mia stammered. Ludwig's expression gave her the shivers.

"We were going to speak to the princess of a country whose help we are in dire need of, correct? And the princess attended the academy at the same time you did, correct? So how, then, is it possible that you don't remember what she looks like?"

"I just said 'you may not'!"

Ludwig paid no attention to this feeble protest and continued.

"The reason nobles send their sons and daughters to Saint-Noel Academy is to build relations and facilitate diplomacy. I trust you are aware of this very basic fact?"

"O-Of course I am... I do, um, feel sorry for what happened..."

What had happened was entirely the result of Mia's own blunder. After a series of difficult talks, Ludwig had finally managed to convince Perujin Agricultural Country to sell them food. They'd gotten as far as sitting down at the discussion table, but when the Perujin princess arrived, Mia went and said something that sent everything crashing down into fiery disaster. She looked at the princess and asked... "My, who might you be?"

Ludwig regarded Mia, who in a rare moment of honest remorse looked truly crestfallen. He sighed.

"Well, then again, they were probably waiting for us to slip up so they could use it as an excuse to turn us down, anyway."

Mia looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Really?"

"I imagine so. The Empire isn't the only place suffering from famine. Harvests were bad in all the surrounding kingdoms as well. Food is in short supply everywhere. I doubt anyone has enough to export. Even though they'd agreed to talk, it's likely that they were looking for an excuse to turn us away the whole time."

In an equally rare moment of sympathy, Ludwig had spared her some words of comfort. Immediately following that, though...

"With that said, it is nevertheless inexcusable to be forgetting the faces of foreign royalty and powerful nobles, especially when you've doubtless seen them many times before. You'd better take a good, hard look at yourself and reflect on your mistakes, Your Highness."

"I-I am already. You don't have to keep telling me..."

In the end, Mia spent the rest of the day choking back tears as she was forced to endure the relentless lecturing of a very unhappy Ludwig. Ever since that day, Mia had been making an honest effort to figure out which people were important contacts and trying her hardest to remember their faces.

...Which was good, of course, but not really anything to go bragging about.

"It is my honest wish that this wonderful gathering will bring the people of Tearmoon and Perujin closer. Now, let the party begin!"

At Rania's prompting, the party did, indeed, begin. It was neither a buffet-style party nor a classic tea party, but something in between. The food laid on the tables was mostly snacks and fruits. The drinks consisted of various kinds of black and herbal tea. The whole of the party effused the calm elegance of an afternoon break. As Mia scanned the available delicacies, she felt her eyes being pulled toward the cakes, and then the tarts, and then the...

What a selection. Agricultural Country indeed. They sure earn their name.

Mia was honestly impressed, and the sons and daughters of marquesses and counts who accompanied her voiced their glee at the great variety of foods as well. For the girls especially, their prejudices melted in the face of such appetizing sweets. Nothing fought discrimination like a good pastry. Granted, the fact that Mia personally rushed to begin the tasting tour was an indispensable factor in their acceptance.

Just to be clear, that was not Mia's intention. The only thing going through her head at the time was the urge to stuff her face. An obvious fact, perhaps, but still worth mentioning.

After making the rounds of the tables, Mia found her gaze drawn to one particular plate off to the side.

"My? Those cookies look..."

There was nothing exceptional about the cookies. Amidst a sea of colorful fruits and dazzling pastries, the only thing that stuck out about them was, in fact, their sheer plainness.

"Ah, wait, that's—"

For some reason, Rania was dashing toward her with a look of panic. She wasn't sure why, but she could find out later. For now, the cookies were more important. She picked one up and popped it into her mouth.

Ahh, I know this... This is it. This is the taste.

Within the powdery crumbliness was a sweetness that slowly spread across her tongue. The cheap sugary taste immediately brought back her long, dreary days in the dungeon. In a sea of gray, depressing memories, this was one of the few bright spots.

Just once, Anne had brought her these cookies. Before the revolution began, the Empire had already been experiencing a food shortage, and even the meals for the royal family could not escape austerity. For weeks at a time, there was often nothing sweet for Mia to eat. After she was imprisoned in the dungeon, the quality of her food only worsened. Just when she'd nearly forgotten there was any enjoyment to be had in eating, Anne came to her with these cookies. When she'd tasted their sweetness... The bliss was beyond words.

A flood of emotions came rushing back as she relived this moment, and she teared up.

"This taste... How long it's been..."

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Your Highness!"

She turned to find Rania staring at her with a look of sheer terror.

"Uhh... For what?"

She wasn't sure what had happened, but judging from how the color had completely drained from the girl's face, she figured it was something serious. Just in case, she brought Rania, and some cookies — one does not, after all, eat only a single cookie — to a quiet part of the party hall where they'd have some privacy. Whatever was wrong, she could hopefully smooth things out herself. If word got out and her retinue made a big fuss, they might ruin relations with Perujin entirely. The last thing she wanted was to go back and have Ludwig give her an earful like last time.

In her desire to avoid getting scolded, she'd actually done something pretty tactful.

"About those cookies, um... You see, the truth is that... they were actually made three years ago..."

"Th-Three years ago?!"

Mia stared at the girl in disbelief. In response, Rania's face turned even paler.

"U-Um, it's— I didn't, but— I mean... I'm sorry, it was just a silly prank..."

The Perujin princess was visibly shaking as she apologized, but it failed to move Mia. In fact, Mia wasn't paying any attention at all. She was still stunned from learning the truth of the cookies.

They were made three years ago, and they're still edible?! Not just edible, but still delicious?!

Mia had seen famine — and felt it. The world without food was a hellscape she'd experienced firsthand. The rancid taste of stiff rye bread was something she wouldn't soon forget. In Tearmoon, where agricultural techniques were severely underdeveloped, methods of food preservation were almost unheard of. It was nearly impossible to keep crops edible for long, never mind maintain their quality.

Mia held up the cookies, regarding them with awe. The fact that they even existed was incredible. She knew their significance. For a moment, they almost looked like golden coins. Then, everything suddenly clicked into place and she understood why Rania had brought these cookies here.

I see now! This is a demonstration of Perujin technology! She's showing me how good they are at preserving food!

The Tearmoon Empire was effectively Perujin's customer. The food used for this party was not simply meant to be enjoyed. They were samples of products that were for sale.

...Or something. I remember Ludwig saying something to that effect. Probably.

He'd lectured her for so long that she'd ignored most of what he'd said. Regardless...

In that case... Hmhm. This Princess Rania person really knows what she's doing!

Mia gulped as she eyed the golden treasures she held in her hand. In a soft voice, she mused, "I see... So this is Perujin food preservation... Absolutely incredible."

Rania's eyes snapped open at Mia's words. She stared at the Tearmoon princess, barely able to process what she heard. She'd thought for sure she was in for a vicious scolding... but what she was hearing was praise.

A Princess of Tearmoon... is praising Perujin technology? How? Why?

In the world as she knew it, people from the Empire had nothing but ridicule and contempt for them. All the hard work and expertise that went into the crops they grew and stored would never be acknowledged. She'd given up hope. But now...

This person... Could it be? Is Princess Mia someone who will recognize the value of our technology and treat us as equals?

"Princess Rania, I wish to discuss something with you. May I have a moment of your time?"

"A-Ah, yes, of course!"

After speaking, the two princesses shared a firm handshake, and thus a miraculous partnership was born through profound and mutual misunderstanding. As for where this peculiar project will take them... Well, only time will tell.

"Perujin food preservation, huh... By establishing a collaborative research project, we gain insight into their technology while they gain access to funding. But didn't you say the Empire was suffering from a bad case of empty coffer syndrome?"

"I'd set aside some of our budget to assist with cultivating new farmland. Most of that hasn't been touched yet, so I was thinking I'd use it to fund this project. Seems like a better use of both money and time than trying to talk sense into those thick noble skulls."

"Hmm... Food preservation lets you get your foot in the door, after which you can expand to more generalized agricultural techniques. Then, with tangible examples of the benefits these technologies bring about, you can start to reshape the mindset nobles have toward agriculture. After that, it'll be far easier to convince them to clear more land for farming... Hah. Brilliant. I see you've really thought this through."

"As a matter of fact, I sometimes find myself wishing we would have a famine. It'd save me a lot of effort convincing them, at least."

"Whoa, okay, slow down there," Balthazar said with his hands up. "I think you might be cutting off your nose to spite your face a bit with that wish."

Ludwig laughed.

"Point taken. I'm joking, of course... But what do you think? After hearing all this, how does the future of the Empire look to you? It doesn't exactly fill one with optimism, but if you ask me... There's no need to be overly pessimistic either."

"Hmm. If what you say is true, then I do agree that this princess is one intriguing person..."

Balthazar held up his mug of ale.

"To the wise princess who appeared, like magic, before my good friend."

Ludwig did not mirror the gesture. Instead, he peered through his spectacles and, in a solemn voice, said, "To Her Sagely Majesty, the future Empress of Tearmoon."

For a long moment, Balthazar only stared in stunned silence.

"...Are you serious?"

"It's all for the sake of restoring the Empire. To that end, I intend to enlist your help as well," Ludwig said, looking straight into Balthazar's eyes.

For a while, Balthazar held his friend's gaze. Then he looked up at the ceiling, ran his hand through his hair, and let out a short laugh.

"The first Empress in the history of Tearmoon, huh. We're going to have to pull strings until our arms fall off."

Meanwhile, Mia was completely oblivious to the powerful undercurrents that were swirling beneath her. While she would eventually go on to learn of their plans and suffer a minor meltdown as a result, that is a story best saved for later.