Chapter 17: Big Wave Incoming!

"I hear from Miss Tiona that your son Cyril is quite the clever child. She tells me he excels at his studies."

As soon as he heard Mia mention Cyril's name, the Outcount of Rudolvon grasped her intent.

So that's what this is about. Her offer is to...

She probably wished to see Cyril attend school and was willing to put in a good word for him. As compensation for taking a part of his land, it seemed a tad inadequate...

But wait. What if it isn't just any school? What if...

After a moment's contemplation, he asked, "Your Highness, forgive me if I've misinterpreted your intentions, but am I correct in assuming that your offer is a personal recommendation for Cyril to attend Saint-Noel Academy?"

A key to the doors of the most esteemed institute of learning on the continent was indeed an extraordinary favor. It would be more than enough redress for the incident.

I've heard that she's friends with the duke's daughter, Rafina. If Tiona had mentioned something to that effect, then it's certainly possible... But.

The wrinkles on his brow deepened, and he pressed his lips together. If that was her proposal, then he'd have to turn her down. He had no intention of sending his son and heir out of the empire. Mia, however, shook her head.

"Allow me to forgive you then, for you have indeed misinterpreted my intentions. I'm not so foolish as to send valuable talent away to foreign kingdoms."

Ever since receiving the letter she'd been thinking over this idea. If Cyril were to attend Saint-Noel, then who would be credited with his accomplishments? Obviously, it would be the academy. Or, worse, people might attribute them to the foresight of the "Lady Saint" of the principality, Rafina. They might even look to the boy's sister, Tiona. Whoever they celebrated, it wasn't going to be the one who merely put in a good word with Rafina to get him through the door.

That wasn't good enough. What mattered to her was receiving credit. She needed people to think that Cyril Rudolvon's accomplishments were all thanks to her. In order to do that, she'd need to place him under her direct patronage. The problem was that she couldn't simply enroll him in a local school, because Tearmoon just didn't have any learning facilities on par withSaint-Noel. If she sent him to a mediocre school, he might never develop the new strain of wheat, which would be disastrous.

How, then, could she solve this dilemma? After much head scratching, she happened upon a solution.

"If the kind of school I need doesn't exist, then I can just build one myself!"

As soon as the idea came to her, it fell into place with a satisfying click like a much-needed puzzle piece, and suddenly, she saw everything in a completely new light.

"Speaking of which, they were going to build a town for me, weren't they? In that case..."

"Have you heard of Princess Town, which will be built in the Viscounty of Berman?"

Her sudden change of topic caught the outcount off guard, and it took him a few seconds to process what he'd heard.

"Uh, I... Oh, yes, of course."

"I'm thinking of building a school there."

"A school, you say?"

"That's right. Wouldn't it be terribly exciting if a school of Saint-Noel's caliber existed within the empire? Along with a surrounding town to support it?" asked Mia, tossing the idea out as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Then she showed him a toothy smile. "And wouldn't it be even more exciting if Cyril happened to be the first student to attend this school of mine?"

Rudolvon inhaled sharply. His heart sped up.

By putting the forest under her direct jurisdiction, she had prevented any conflict from breaking out. By allowing Viscount Berman to build a town in her name, she appeased his vanity.

And in the midst of all that, she even thought to include our interests in her plans? Us Rudolvons?

Being in a neighboring viscounty, the school would be close to home. Furthermore, in the nearby forest lived the Lulus, with whom they had close relations. Heck, it was more convenient than even the capital city. Location-wise, it was perfect. The cost of such a project would be enormous, but its name alone — Princess Town — should be enough to attract the attention of many other nobles. Berman would almost certainly receive a great number of donations in exchange for a piece of the glory. And so long as Mia was involved, she would see to it that the project was successful...

At this point, the outcount had developed an appreciation for the princess that cemented his trust in her. He respectfully lowered his head.

"Your care and consideration humble me. My family and I are honored to be blessed by your good will, and though we have little power, we are more than willing to do whatever we can to help."

"Hmm, in that case..."

Mia tilted her head a little and gazed upward, pretending she was considering her choices. Even as she loudly muttered phrases like "Let's see now..." and "What do I need..." to buy herself some thinking time, she was acutely aware of a familiar but long-missed feeling of exhilaration rising up within her.

It's coming, I know it. I can feel it in my gut!

A big wave was coming, and just like last time, she was going to ride its swell as far as it would take her.

"I find myself captivated by the supply of wheat your family keeps in storage."

"Huh? Wheat, you say...?"

"Yes, and I'd like for you to keep storing it. In fact, rather than selling it for cheap, hold on to as much as you can. Then, when a famine strikes..."

"Oh, well, should you wish for our wheat in such a situation, we certainly would not hesitate to supply it to the imperial family. You have my word—"

"No, that's not what I mean."

Mia cut him off. Her instincts told her that what he was suggesting was a very bad idea. That kind of arrangement would lead to the imperial family and central nobility storing wheat only for themselves, leaving the common people to starve. In the end, the angry masses would rise up in revolution, and her story would again come to a quick and head-lopping end.

"I want you to distribute the wheat directly to the masses. And I want you to mention my name while you're doing it..."

Faced with her blatantly vain request, the outcount stared at her, his eyes filled with... Not disdain but deep admiration?!

"...Wait, let me make sure I understand you correctly. You're asking me — in the case that I need to distribute my wheat to the general population — to declare that I'm doing so at the instruction of Your Highness? You are allowing us to use the banner of your name?" Rudolvon asked incredulously. His voice trembled with emotion. It had been a long time since he'd been moved to this degree.

"That's right. Shout it at the top of your lungs if you so wish. Append my name to every bag you give out."

"...I am speechless, Your Highness. You leave me in awe."

The girl before him was the same age as his daughter, and yet held in her petite form was such tremendous wisdom that it took his breath away. The Rudolvons' lands were vast, and most of their people were farmers. This was a well-known fact, and because of it, whenever poor harvests led to food shortages, prominent nobles would come to rob them of their wheat. They would do so under the pretense of gathering provisions for the imperial family, but in reality, they would keep the food for themselves. To them, the hunger of the masses was irrelevant. Why in the world would they give food to commoners when they were at risk of starving themselves? Among much of the high nobility, such logic was simply common sense.

What confounded the moral calculus of their actions was the fact that most of them were not trying to sustain a lifestyle of excess. While the life of any noble would seem lavish to a commoner, they were not hoarding out of a desire for luxury. Why, then, were they so intent on procuring more wheat? Simple. The reason was fear. Nobody knew how long a famine would last. Faced with the risk of starvation, every noble would try to stock up on as much food as possible. The more they had, the greater their buffer. The greater their buffer, the less they'd worry. They sought relief from anxiety, and in the process, burdened their people with suffering of a far more tangible nature.

Still, suffering was suffering, whether mental or physical. To think only of yourself might be immoral, but to fear hunger was only human. So long as they framed their actions as protecting themselves from famine, little could be done to reprimand them.

Now imagine that under such circumstances, instead of offering their provisions to the nobles knocking on their door, the Rudolvons instead gave their food to the masses for free. What would their peers think? They would be furious. Considering the pretense of collecting for the imperial family that they so often employed, such an act could even amount to treason.

And therein lay Mia's genius. She'd instructed him to hold high her banner — to assuage the starving masses under her own name. It would all be carried out as a direct order from the princess.

"It shames me to say this, Your Highness, but I am a timid man, and I must ask if you would be willing to put these instructions of yours in writing."

"In writing? Well, I certainly don't mind. That will indeed put many concerns to rest," said Mia as a figurative question mark floated over her head.

The Outcount's reaction baffled her. After all, what she was proposing was essentially for the Rudolvons to do all the work and for her to snatch all the credit. The offer was so one-sided that even she was a little worried she'd gone too far. While she'd put on a calm front, she was actually pretty nervous throughout this whole conversation, wondering if a ticket to higher education would really be enough to convince the Rudolvons to go along with her plan.

It's honestly a little unsettling how eager he is to do this. I wonder if he's got something else up his sleeve... she mused, growing suspicious at the man's strange willingness to accept such a bad trade. She studied him carefully. Is he trying to win my favor? Maybe he's trying to show how loyal he is so I'll treat him better in the future.

She craved Cyril Rudolvon's knowledge, but that didn't mean she wanted to be friends with the boy. He was still a Rudolvon, and she still had beef with them. One does not, after all, simply chop off a girl's head and expect her to forget about it.

Trying to butter me up, huh? I see your game, Rudolvon, and it's not going to work. Time for me to put my foot down!

She blew a cocky puff of air out her nose and turned her chin up at the outcount.

"Just so we're clear, this school is not going to be the kind of place prominent nobles usually attend. Cyril is certainly welcome, but he'd better not expect any of the usual extravagance. I'll certainly see to it that its academic quality is on par with Saint-Noel, but it will be a modest establishment otherwise. I plan to invite all sorts of students, including commoners and those from the neighboring Lulu tribe."

The implication — in her mind, of course — was that she wasn't that impressed with his son, and she certainly wasn't sending him to some prestigious academic institution. To her, he and his family were no different from the masses, and she was going to treat them as such. The whole spiel was meant to convey a sort of "know your place, you lowly peasant" vibe.

After hearing Mia's little speech, Rudolvon fell silent. His hand trembled a little.

"I see... Words cannot express the depth of my gratitude, Your Highness," he said, so earnestly moved that tears were welling up in his eyes.

The lengths to which she's willing to go to make sure Cyril can learn in an environment free from the pressures of dealing with prominent central nobility... And she's even going to invite the neighboring Lulus so they can build trust from a young age...

In all honesty, Rudolvon had never liked the imperial family much. Now, though...

Maybe... just maybe... I've finally found the person to whom I should swear my loyalty.

Hot waves of emotion rose up his chest and out his eyes, streaming down his cheeks in crystalline streams of pure, heartfelt joy.

Mia watched him with a kind of eerie fascination — the kind often felt when one knows they should look away but the perversion on display is so mesmerizing that they simply can't.

Sweet moons... I-Is he... one of those people? The kind who... when you're mean to them or hurt them, they feel really good?

Was he... enjoying her disdain? She stared at the man, thoroughly creeped out by the look of pleasure on his face.

W-Well, then again, he is Tiona's father. I guess I shouldn't be surprised...

In any case, she'd accomplished what she'd come here for. Cyril Rudolvon was a done deal, and all the Rudolvon's wheat was effectively hers for the taking.

I'm so glad I paid them a direct visit. That was one of the best decisions I've ever made! she thought with a satisfied grin as she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the soft rocking of the carriage as it carried her back to the capital.

And so, the final piece was put into place, setting the stage for the current of fate to flow abruptly in a new direction...