Dia looked around curiously as she followed Farah into her titular palace. Indeed, it was far smaller than Nightfall Palace, but given the state of her territory, Dia didn’t find it really that odd. She had also heard some of Farah’s history — her parents had financially ruined the territory, before dumping the responsibilities onto her.

“It’s small, isn’t it?” Farah asked. “Around the size of Moon Mansion, if we count the dome that Claud put up.”

“Yeah,” said Dia. “It’s one of the smallest palaces I’ve ever seen…not that I’m looking down on you, though. I feel that the Lustre Palace is too pointlessly large. Most of the rooms there are left unoccupied, but the servants still need to clean them every day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Having big places can be a problem,” said Dia. “Do you know why Claud didn’t want to increase the size of Moon Mansion? It’s because he didn’t want to increase the number of vulnerabilities. If we made Moon Mansion any bigger, we would have needed more staff. There would also be more blind spots.”

“This Claud person was the one who wrote that little book?” Aunt Lumine, who had been hanging behind to look around at random things, abruptly asked.

“Yeah,” said Dia. “Wasn’t too hard to guess, huh?”

“Well, considering that the person who wrote the book and the person you just described sound equally paranoid, I didn’t really need to think too hard,” she replied. “Anyway, that is true. Still, did you knock down the old palace?”

“That’s the first thing I did, yes.” Farah took them onto a path flanked by small flower beds. It was a stark contrast to the vast sea of flowers Dia had seen in Count Nightfall, and to palaces as a whole, but she didn’t find them any less beautiful. If anything, the meticulous care afforded to each and every flower had given this little garden a very unique charm. “Knocked it down, built a little building half the size of Moon Mansion, and then sold off the remaining materials to an enterprising trader.”

“You knocked the old palace down?” Dia asked, her eyes turning wide.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” said Farah. “Look at it from my point of view. I was a kid back then. The palace was so huge that I took thirty minutes to go from my bedroom to just about anywhere functional. The last straw was when my legs were so tired that my butler had to carry me to the dining hall.”

“What happened afterwards?” Dia asked.

“I wanted to throw a tantrum,” said Farah, a smile on her face as she rapped on the double doors that were at the end of the flower-flanked path. “But my butler gently reminded me that I was the ruler of this whole place, and that I didn’t need to throw a tantrum. If I wanted anything, I could have it done.”

As the double doors swung open, Farah said, “And so, by the end of the day, I had the palace demolished. My people were more than happy to help out, since I promised them that they could take a few pieces home, to do whatever they liked it with. The rest is history.”

Dia chuckled. “And after that, you sold almost everything that was of value, thereby increasing your credibility to debtors by showing your commitment to reform and austerity.”

Farah blinked twice. “That’s…roughly it, yes. Inherently, any county with such natural resources is bound to turn valuable. Those useless meatsacks whose only merit was birthing me didn’t understand that, nor did they want to sacrifice their overly-pointless lifestyle, so they eventually got into debt and fled from fear.”

The double doors opened at this point, and an old man poked his head out. His eyes brightened a moment later, his wrinkly face turned into a smile. “Milday!”

“I’m back, Lloyd.” A smile that tugged at Dia’s heartstrings itself appeared on her face. “I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“Not at all, not at all!” The old man laughed. “And those two must be your guests. Milady, let us not keep your friends waiting at the door. Ladies, do place your baggage down and follow Milady into the dining room. I’ll settle your luggage into the best guestrooms we have to offer.”

Dia glanced at Farah, who nodded back in return.

“We will impose upon your hospitality then,” said Dia, before glancing at her aunt.

Aunt Lumine, whose belongings were all packed into her storage artefact, was more interested in examining the old man. She noticed Dia’s glance a moment later, and then patted her head. “Silly child. I don’t have luggage, so don’t keep her marvellous butler waiting.”

“A storage artefact, miss?”

“Yes.” Aunt Lumine smiled.

“Very well.” The old man bowed reverently, and then picked up Dia’s backpack, which was no mean feat, considering that her backpack weighed at least thirty kilograms.

“I’ll leave the accommodations to you then, Lloyd,” said Farah. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure, Milady.” The old man bowed. “I have instructed the kitchen to prepare light snacks befitting of this joyous occasion, as well as a homely spread for dinner.”

“Very good, Lloyd.” Farah paused. “Might I trouble you to prepare the documents I need to look over too?”

“Already done, Milady.” The old man chuckled. “It should be ready after you polish off the last sponge cake.”

“Thanks.” Farah smiled. “For everything.”

“Ahaha! Milady, there’s no need to be so formal with this sack of old bones!” The old man laughed. “Alright, Milady, your guests are starving. Their faces tell me that they can’t wait to savour actual hot food, and I’m afraid it would be an egregious breach of courtesy were you to make them wait any further.”

On cue, Dia’s stomach rumbled. Blushing, Dia punched her own stomach twice, but that particular part of her wasn’t quite receptive to the concept of social norms.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Her stomach growled again.

“It is said that people have a second stomach for sweet snacks,” said Lloyd. “While that is almost certainly a saying popularised by nobles, it is also a testament to how much one looks forward to them. I hope our chefs will not disappoint you. Now, Milady, put on your best conduct and show your guests to the dining room. I shall be there shortly.”

Turning around with a crisp snap, the old man walked away, his back straight and majestic despite his old age.

“He is not just any ordinary servant,” said Aunt Lumine. “You are lucky to have him as your butler, Farah.”

“I think so too,” said the countess, a gentle smile on her face. “He has been teaching me for a very long time. But enough about me for a moment. Dia looks like she wants some fluffy pancakes and sponge cakes.”

“As do I,” said Aunt Lumine. “I look forward to the snacks of your chefs.”

“They won’t disappoint you,” Farah promised. “Come, follow me.”

The double doors closed behind them as Farah led them down a carpet-covered hallway. The walls weren’t made of any particular material, and the warm orange light made the whole place seem like an actual home over a palace. For that reason, Dia felt a measure of ease inside, although part of it was almost certainly due to the fact that they had returned from the wilderness.

It didn’t take long before the three of them arrived at a dining room. A woman was offloading trays from a trolley, while a young man poured out tea from a flower-print teapot. Both of their movements had a grace that came only with conscientious practice and execution, in a manner that reminded Dia of a master at swords.

Even their arrival didn’t faze the two artists, and they continued to move with an ethereal grace as Dia and the others sat together at the table.

Retreating with an equal amount of elegance, the two of them bowed, and them pushed the trolley out of the room.

“Impressive,” said Dia, watching as the pair closed the door gently behind them. “Their movements were refined and elegant. They must have undergone strict training.”

“I took Felix and Felicity eighteen years ago, on a stormy night. Two little bundles, set in a basket, were placed at the palace gates,” said Farah. “If Felix didn’t start crying, we might not have known that there were two babies abandoned at our doorstep.”

“…Usually, no one abandons babies on a noble’s doorstep.”

“To be fair,” said Farah, “at that time, all kinds of reforms were ongoing. No one in their right mind could describe me as an actual noble, especially since I hadn’t gained approval from Emperor Grandis yet. Anyway, I took them in…”

“And troubled me to feed them.” Lloyd poked his head through a door and completed Farah’s sentence. “They were quite the obedient little pair, though. Sure, diaper issues here and there, but they were babies. Of course, little Farah decided to have her studies with both Felix and Felicity, so for the next four years, her teachers had to pacify and amuse babies too.”

“Studying all day was boring,” Farah replied. “But no one abandons babies nowadays in Farah County. While that’s a good thing, it does have an effect on my psyche…”

“You only say that because you’d just dump the hard work on me, Milady.”

“But you’re smiling.”

“True. I am indeed smiling. But for a different reason.” The old butler picked up the tray covers. “Welcome home, Milady. We have missed you greatly.”

The countess quivered, and then relaxed. “It’s been some time, but I’m finally back.”