Chapter 13: Mia’s Honey-Laced Request

By the time Mia left the forest and arrived back at the manor, the morning sun had already cleared the horizon. What followed was a whirlwind of activity in which she quickly gathered her things, assembled her men, and gave orders to depart for the capital immediately, all while pointedly ignoring the questions of a bewildered Viscount Berman. When concerned guards asked her to get some rest first, she waved them away claiming she'd have plenty of time to sleep in the carriage on the way back.

"Speed is the essence of war, huh... I see it's not only soldiers who value haste, but sages as well. Princess Mia, ever the tactician," remarked Dion, letting out an affected sigh as he watched her rush about.

After showing up to the game, playing her cards, and setting the stage, she left the table. She accurately identified that her business here was done and her fight now lay elsewhere. Her actions were guided by an acute awareness of where she was most needed and what was most required of her. That, he mused, was probably her underlying logic.

"All according to plan, huh. A real mastermind. That said, she sure squeals a lot for a cold, calculating sort. Makes you really believe she's quivering in her boots sometimes, but I guess that's all part of the act."

A child she'd rescued in the past just happened to be the grandson of a hostile tribe's chieftain? What were the chances of that being pure coincidence? While he doubted she'd known when she first helped him, he was almost certain that by the time she was heading to the forest, she had been fully aware of the facts. She had probably done some preemptive digging.

"The Great Sage of the Empire..."

Ludwig's words echoed in his mind.

"Promotions, huh... Bloody hell, army politics is the last thing I want to get involved in, but if it's for that princess... I might be willing to give it a try."

The cruel irony of his budding motivation to devote himself to Mia's cause was, of course, lost on him. After all, Mia had no idea what "speed is the essence of war" even meant, and it certainly wasn't haste that she valued — it was plain old safety. She just wanted to get out of danger, which meant running away from the forest, and more importantly, from him. The only thing that had been on her mind as she made her escape was I need to get out of here! Between the conflict and him, this place is dangerous enough to kill me a hundred times over!

Upon returning to the capital, Mia immediately sent a messenger to the New Moon District and arranged for the child in question to be transported from the orphanage to the Sealence Forest. In order to ensure everything went smoothly she even handpicked the guards who would escort him, selecting only the most experienced men for the job. As she rushed to get things done, she was summoned by her father, the emperor.

"Father wants to see me? In the audience chamber of all places? I wonder why..."

In general, the Emperors of Tearmoon and their family members were close. In some nations rulers were hailed as divine, untouchable beings and even their immediate family had to request a formal audience in order to see them. In Tearmoon, however, such attitudes of sacrosanctity had never been adopted. If anything, Mia wished her father would stop coming to see her at every possible opportunity. He could be so terribly annoying at times.

Consequently, it was very unusual for him to summon her to a formal location like the audience chamber. Upon seeing the people gathered there, though, the reason became clear. In addition to her father, the emperor, and her trusted aide, Ludwig, there was a third figure who was arguably the most central character of the events that had recently transpired: Viscount Berman.

"Ohhh, my dear daughter Mia!"

"It is a pleasure to see you, Your Majesty. I have come according to your summons."

She held her skirt and gracefully curtsied... which prompted the emperor to launch into a fierce tirade!

"No no no! Not 'Your Majesty'! I told you to stop calling me that. It sounds so dreadfully distant and it makes me sad. You must be more casual. Call me something like Father. No, wait. You can go even further. Mmm... 'papa' would be most wonderful..."

"You wished to speak to me, Father?"

The Emperor wilted at his daughter's curt reply and hung his head, crestfallen. In case it wasn't clear from that exchange, he was a man of... a most troublesome disposition.

"Fine. I suppose I'll settle for 'Father'... Anyway. Mia, the reason I called you here today is to hear from you regarding your recent visit to Viscount Berman's domain."

Well, no surprise there. I figured as much.

She shot a glance at Berman, who was standing perfectly still. His face seemed a little too pale to be entirely normal. While he was part of the nobility, his domain was exceedingly close to the border, making him — he'd never admit it himself, of course — something of a country bumpkin in the eyes of his fellow nobles. The number of times in his life he'd been granted an audience with the hallowed ruler of Tearmoon, he could count on one hand. That he would be nervous in this situation was entirely understandable.

Well, since he's so busy staring out into space, why don't I just get this over with before he has a chance to snap out of it?

She pursed her lips as the calculating side of her mind began to take the reins. Its rare moment in the spotlight didn't last long, though.

"I heard you went to a very dangerous area of the viscount's lands that's in the midst of violent conflict. I'll have you know that when I heard this news, I almost passed out from the shock."

"My, is that so? How strange. I didn't come across any danger whatsoever," said Mia with an air of nonchalance.

The nonchalance was important. If she somehow suggested that she'd run into actual danger, the emperor might just raze the whole forest to the ground in a fit of rage. Better safe than sorry.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, Her Highness failed to mention that she has withdrawn all the troops that were stationed near that forest. Surely, I'm not wrong in assuming that this proves something very significant happened there."

My, what a terribly annoying tattletale.

Her eye twitched once in irritation, but she kept her composure. She gave Berman a calm, dismissive look before shaking her head.

"Ah, Viscount, I see that I must swallow my pride and tell the truth. I did indeed suffer a most embarrassing experience in the forest. I tripped over a tree and became thoroughly flustered. I'm ashamed to admit it, but that's the truth of the matter."

"What?! A mere tree had the nerve to trip my dear daughter?! Vile thing! I'll burn down the whole fore—"

"Please, Father. Calm yourself. I intend to cut down that tree and use it for my hairpin, so there is nothing for you to worry about."

She showed her father a most endearing smile before shifting her gaze toward Berman.

"Speaking of which... Father, I find that I'm rather fond of that forest, and it would make me so very happy if I could claim it for myself. As princess, I'd like to make it an official part of my personal domain."

In a brilliant display of that skill conferred upon all spoiled princesses, she cooed her request in a voice laced with honey.

"Really? Is it that great of a place?" Intrigued, the Emperor leaned forward a little.

"Yes, it's a beautiful forest, and it looks like an absolutely wonderful place for a vacation."

"I see... Well, in that case..."

As Ludwig watched the conversation unfold from the sidelines, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

There's a clear downside to how she's handling this...

It was true that placing the Sealence Forest under the direct jurisdiction of the princess would protect it from further intrusion while simultaneously defusing tensions with the Lulu tribe. In exchange, however, it would earn the bitter animosity of Viscount Berman.

Ludwig was personally of the opinion that Viscount Berman was a man of little value. If anything, he was the kind of rash, frivolous person with whom association was best avoided. Nevertheless, he was a noble, and he was the one charged with ruling that particular stretch of land. The kind of reform Mia was — in Ludwig's mind, at least — trying to enact would necessarily require the support of many people. It was therefore best to minimize the number of people she upset, as every enemy made along the way was not only a new source of opposition but also a potential ally lost. Given the scale of her (supposed) ambitions, she couldn't afford to push too many people away.

It was of course possible that Mia had decided the Lulu incident was something she needed to set right even if it meant making enemies. It would be the right thing to do, and being determined to uphold justice at all costs was certainly a laudable attitude for the Princess of Tearmoon to possess...

But still, I thought that she... Because it was not anyone else, but her... That she would be able to present a better solution. An optimal way to solve this conflict that wouldn't hurt her own cause... Has my devotion blinded me to her limits? Have I placed too much faith in her potential?

That's right. Ludwig was now so far gone that he was feeling disappointed in his own delusions. He was suffering from advanced Mia-phrenia. Mere delusions were no longer enough to satisfy him. No, he was going to need to put delusions in his delusions, and that was just too far down the rabbit hole even for a master of self-deception such as him. The upside to this, however, was that he was on the verge of coming to terms with reality again. The shock of disappointment was about to finally knock the rose-tinted glasses off his face and expose the Mia cult for the sham it really was. He was mere moments away from coming face to face with the cold, merciless truth — that Mia was neither sage nor saint, but only a princess. And a rather pea-brained one at that. He was so close. The fog in his mind was clearing. Just when he was about to have his epiphany...

"In that case, Berman, you shall be tasked with building a castle for Mia beside that forest. In fact, why not expand it into a town as well? It shall be called Princess Town."

The emperor's demand appropriated his mental resources, robbing him of the chance to have his epiphany. As he worked through the implications, he pressed his hand to his forehead.

That's just adding oil to fire, damn it! Why...

Not only was Berman going to lose a chunk of his domain, he had to put up a castle and build a surrounding town.

Yes, I get that ordering him to do it means the empire won't have to waste its own money, but the man's upset enough already. It's not worth antagonizing him even further.

He rubbed wearily at his temples and let out a heavy sigh, only for the breath to catch in his throat when he saw the expression on Berman's face.

"Y-Your Majesty... Goodness... I..."

The viscount was visibly trembling, but not from anger. Rather, it seemed like he was close to being moved to tears.

What the... What is happening right now? wondered a wide-eyed Ludwig.

He racked his brains trying to comprehend the baffling scene unfolding before him. Then it happened. He had an epiphany, albeit a different one than discussed previously, and it shook him to the core.

Are you telling me... By God, I get it now... No, but that can't possibly...

Had they been dealing with a merchant, Mia's decision would have incurred a great deal of ill will. It would amount to a direct requisition of the merchant's assets by the empire. He couldn't refuse a direct order from the emperor, but he certainly wasn't going to like it.

The difference — and what a crucial difference indeed — was that they were dealing with Viscount Berman, who was not a merchant. He was a noble. And nobles were creatures who valued reputation above all else. Mia's decision was not a parting of ways with Berman. Far from that, it was a decision born through a perfect understanding of his tendencies, and it offered him exactly that which he wanted most: glory.

Why did Berman even stir up this whole mess to begin with? It was because his feathers were ruffled, making him feel like he had to show up the Outcount of Rudolvon. Mia knew exactly what he craved and by embedding her own special jurisdiction within his domain, she was allowing him to boast that he was building a town bearing the princess's name. For the gentry, such a feat was glorious beyond measure. After all, if that forest was Mia's private property, then her father would surely visit from time to time as well. The prestige afforded by that fact alone was worth his trouble.

Am I seeing this right? Did Her Highness just establish permanent protection for the forest at absolutely no cost to herself whatsoever?

Furthermore, by building "Princess Town" beside the forest, she offered the Lulus a path toward prosperity as well. It would serve as an apology for the troubles they'd endured throughout this incident, and while it would be up to them to take advantage of the opportunity, the existence of a town nearby would doubtlessly improve the flow of goods through their lands. Most importantly, all of this would be accomplished with Berman's gratitude instead of his resentment.

Had it been me, I'd have deposed Berman through political stratagem. Had it been Captain Dion, he'd likely have just eliminated Berman, one way or another.

However, neither of these methods were optimal. Nobles were not just figureheads, they were functional rulers of their lands. They served a pragmatic purpose and were each a crucial gear in the machinery of society. A malfunctioning gear certainly needed to be fixed, but removing it outright would inevitably affect the entire framework. Widespread confusion would follow, and no matter how quickly they installed a successor, there would be unavoidable harm to the people who lived there. A change of ruler would cast a shadow of uncertainty over the land, damaging productivity and stability. How, then, could Mia avoid such consequences? Simple. Don't replace the ruler. Make him work for her instead.

And that's exactly what she did. For her, it just seemed so easy, both to say and to do.

You know what? This probably isn't even the end of it. I bet there's more. She's probably considered how to handle Rudolvon too.

To his utter misfortune, Ludwig's suspicions would be proven correct the next week, robbing him of any chance of recovering from his terminal case of Mia-phrenia when a letter from Tiona, daughter of the Outcount of Rudolvon, was delivered to Mia's room.