Althea's plan to ask the Steward was derailed by an imminent crisis. Well, not really a crisis and more of an urgent event that might need her attention. But she was a Countess, and the situation was very delicate. There had been a fight between one of the new refugees and one of the Diery county natives.

The two people involved were teenagers, adult teenagers but still teenagers. Not that she had a lot of ground to stand on there. After all, she was one too. The Minister of Justice was personally presiding over the case, listening to the arguments. Althea sneaked in, led by Mira to a corner of the growing crowd.

"— I demand the brat compensate us for our loss! The little miscreant couldn't control her own powers." a large looking man shouted.

A little girl, no older than ten, blushed.

"The entire stall is ruined! That was a silver's worth of fruits!" the man shouted.

"The market price is still only fifty copper." the Minister said, his voice monotone. This guy was much better at acting impartially than her. "A silver is what you tried to sell it to the accused for."

"I have the right to charge what I want." the man replied. “The county has a free market!”

"Yes, and your victims have the right to reject you without being harassed." the Minister said. "As I understand it, the accused would like to defend themselves by stating that they were harassed and provoked by your guards."

"That does not excuse violence! Look at what they did." the man tried to expose the inner part of his arm, wincing as he turned it. A large, red gash ran through it. Althea looked at it closely. The wound did not look healed, and there wasn’t blood pouring out of it. A paper cut. A humongous paper cut.

The Minister flipped through some documents. "The wound is superficial, and barely pierced through the skin. But you are correct, it was assault. The court is ready to make a decision. Do either of the accused have anything to add?"

"No, your honor." A young man with long blue hair, and something like tattoos running across his body said.

"I think it is very important that we show these things their place and-" the man began.

"The court asks for evidence, not the wishes and thoughts of the accused." the minister said. "Do you have anything constructive to add?"

The man was silent.

The minister slammed his javelin. "As I understand it, the merchant, Mr Jefferson’s assistant, a fully grown man took to harassing a nine-year-old half-lizardwoman child. At the man's provocation, the girl became scared, causing her to set her hair on fire for-" the Minister picked a paper up. "— less than five seconds. The thirty-year-old former soldier then panicked, shoving the girl onto the stall. The result was the girl once again losing control of her powers and setting the stall on fire."

"I-" the man interrupted, but the Minister was not having it.

"The accused had a chance to present more information."

"A passing friend of the girl's, a half-merman by the name of Jofa came to her rescue. Mr. Jefferson, a foreign merchant, has been verified by several witnesses to be seen," the Minister pulled another paper. "Pulling the girl's hair as if he wanted to lift her into the air with it. Jofa then used his power to wound the Mr. Jefferson and free his friend.

In accordance to the Diery county law, I find Mr. Jefferson in violation of the Merchant Code of Conduct and charge him a fine of seven silver. In addition to this, I find him and his assistant to be both guilty of petty assault, and to give a sum of ten silver each to the victim as recompense."

The Minister turned to the half-human part of the court. The mood among the victims was somber as usual.

"As for Jofa, I rule that there was an immediate threat to Ms. Jif's health, justifying his actions. But, Ms Jif has shown an inability to control her powers, which can pose a threat to the county. I ask that she learn the ways of her people, and not be let out of sight before that.”

The Minister sighed. “An unaccompanied minor should not have been on the street to begin with. I will investigate the cause of this. Does anyone have any objections?" he asked.

The court remained silent. The stall owner's mouth opened and closed a few times, but not daring to speak up.

"The court has ended." the Minister announced. Althea faded back into the crowd, the minister had performed very well. The scam should have been expected, it was human nature to bully the weak and hated.

But it told her something else important. There were many in the crowd that were jealous. The emotion was clear on their faces, as they stared at the little girl in front of them that had a power they only dreamed of.

Of the races in the world, only humans had a restriction like cultivation manuals. The Elves, Fae and other species had their arts inherited. There were advantages to the human method, like people of non-noble backgrounds getting it, but what did people that did not even get the chance to cultivate care for advantages?

Now to go deal with stuff. The half-Elves had settled down peacefully. A bit too peacefully. Verest's order seemed to be law to them, they barely left the palace since they arrived. In fact, they rarely left their rooms.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Althea doubted it was out of their own will, likely they did not want to encounter hate. Verest had made it clear how they viewed humans, and how they thought humans viewed them.

Althea couldn't say it was inaccurate. The narrative about non-humans in the Empire had to change. And she had just the thing.

Steward Ven joined her silently as she walked, appearing beside her from somewhere. How he did that she did not know, but he seemed to know exactly where she was.

Althea wanted to ask him about the burning and the current state of international affairs, but if she wanted to do this thing, she had to act quickly. Perhaps trying to do it tonight was a bit hasty. But taking people by surprise and not giving people time to make plans and opinions was important.

Verest's room appeared before her as she knocked lightly. The door opened in minutes, showing a neat room that looked like it hadn't been touched at all. There were a dozen people there, sitting far too formally, not even creasing the sheets.

The scene was suspicious. Althea had an idea what was going on, if she was right, the half-Elves had more trump cards than even she had expected. And the migration was far more planned than they let alone.

"Do you have time right now?" she asked, making sure to keep herself at her best.

"Yes, your grace." Verest was curt as usual. Althea stepped into the room as he held the room open. The other half-Elves stared at her with inhuman intensity. The half-Elves did not have auras, every one of them seemed to not have any powers at all. Althea was pretty sure that was not the case.

"As you know, there have been a series of events in the county." she began.

"If your grace wishes to ask me to take the other hybrids with me, then I am willing." Verest cut to the point.

Althea gave a sad smile. "That may be necessary, but I am hoping it will not come to that. If you are agreeable, I would like to host a mixer today."

"A…what?" Verest asked, his voice soft and barely showing emotion. The other half-Elves sat unnaturally still, allowing him to act.

"A mixer. A ball of sorts for the common people of the county to meet and get comfortable with what you call hybrids." Althea replied, giving what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

"I noticed that people have some very uninformed ideas about what they consider other. I hope that if we give them a chance to correct their ignorance, that they will be willing to relent." she continued.

Now there was a movement among the other people in the room. The half-Elves looked at each other, not talking out loud, but she was sure there was some kind of communication happening.

"What would it involve?" Verest asked, looking at the people around.

"A lot of talking, and hopefully the sharing of stories." she smiled.

"The countess wishes to use this event to let the humans hear our stories and feel pity. " Verest noted.

"And perhaps they will also feel how hard it is to live as a half-Elf." Althea replied. "The thing about this kind of hate is that it grows easily in ignorance, but is much harder to justify in the presence of knowledge."

"Perhaps." Verest said. "If it will help us then I am agreeable. But I do hope we can leave soon."

"Thank you! The Reh duchy is sadly dragging its feet with the island, but I should have it by the end of the week." Althea gave him another smile. "I will leave you to chat with your…friends."

The Steward did not speak till they were back on the ground floor and away from the curious ears.

"What do you think of this Verest, your grace?" he asked.

"I think he is much more important, and much more powerful than he shows. There is more to this migration than we know." Althea stated the obvious. But her mind was occupied with something else.

If she was right, the people there were powerful. Verest, at least, had to be an Adept. The mana he had was restrained, but not restrained enough to escape her attention.

So did the other people there, but she wasn’t as sure of them as Verest. At least Master if not Adept. Perhaps not enough to take on a big country like the Solerian Empire, or even the Elara kingdom, but a small one? Yes, a small one would fall to their hands.

And if it was far from the Solerian Empire, there would be no reason for the original characters to hear about it. But that still gave the question of how the book came to be. Was it some kind of astral projection? Had one of the characters transmigrated into Earth? Or something else? But she could try figuring that out later. The Elves took priority.

Queen Elara brought the Elves her using the treaty as an excuse. But if Althea wasn't around, where would she put them? The Zun Empire? Another part of the Solerian Empire? Or would she throw them somewhere more westward…or even to the north.

The Elara kingdom, Zun Empire and Solerian Empire made a straight line in the eastern part of the continent. Like the East coast of North America. Elara Kingdom was between New York and Canada, the northern part uninhabited, if she remembered her geography class well.

The mountains spread till the ocean, cutting an arc that separated the two Empires. The Elves could not settle in the south without the Empires agreeing. But there was empty land to the north of the kingdom.

A land of ice, snow, and permafrost. Like northern Russia or Canada, not really suitable for human habitation. But very suitable to some beasts. The land was unclaimed, and a suitable place to dump a bunch of half-Elves without making much of a show.

The Zun and Solerian Empire could have simply followed suit, just like how the half-Elves were being funneled to the Solerian Empire now. The kingdoms of this world saw he as burdens that needed to be taken care of. The Human treaty put too many restrictions, and made nonhumans too likely to rebel.

Althea smiled, happy at finally having a theory as to what happened to the Elves in her last life. But it still begged the question as to why the Empire was so eager to take the Elves in now. Was it simply a matter of convenience? A matter of the Zerolian Duke targeting her?

"Do you have a theory, Countess?" The Steward asked, looking at her with an analyzing expression.

Althea was startled. The Steward hadn't been this interested before. But she answered, in a roundabout way.

"I think the half-Elves were planning to either take over a small country or settling down in the northern tundra." she said.

The Steward nodded. "But now they are in the Solerian Empire, and you offered them a less dangerous option."

The Steward paused, as if weighing if he should continue. "For the record, your grace, I think the late Countess was wrong about you. I do not know what has happened, but there is something different about you. I find little of the shy, antisocial girl that once grew up in these halls. "

Althea's mind went blank. The Steward's words brought a barrage. A veritable tsunami of memories the old Althea had forgotten. There was a reason her mind avoided those memories.

"Perhaps that girl simply wasn't reminded how disappointing she was for an extended period of time." she vomited, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. And then she retreated back into her room.

But there was one thing she did not forget.

The old Althea was the one that learned so many dances, that spent so long learning how to be graceful, that spent so long preparing to inherit a title few trusted her with. How many people actually spent years learning in a library? Althea had made sure she knew a little of everything she could get her hands on.

The skills were already there, the transmigration just brought the confidence to put them to use.