Nubarron Invierno looked at the letter he’d just received and felt something wasn’t right. He’d been exchanging letters regularly with Querido Fresa for months and then, suddenly, nothing. It was almost a month before he heard back and it wasn’t from Querido directly, but from his Mother, the Marchioness. She said Heir Querido had suffered an injury and wouldn’t be able to correspond for some time. She encouraged him to continue sending letters if he felt like it.

He’d been a little worried but since the letter didn’t mention the injury being life threatening, he’d put it aside and kept writing. Ron knew that if he stopped writing, with the distance between them, Querido might forget about him altogether. Their friendship had only just started, he didn’t want it to die from neglect. Finally his efforts paid off. After almost 6 months since the first interruption, he got a letter from Querido.

The writer claimed to be Querido but the handwriting was all wrong. He dug through his desk and found the old letters he’d received and, when comparing them, discovered they didn’t look the same.

He stared at the two letters, how the words were slanted in opposite angles and the written strangely. The letterhead was the same, the envelope too, and the contents sounded more or less like the Querido he knew. Other than the writing itself, it didn’t seem fake. Had he gotten someone else to write this letter? Why?

Frowning, he tapped his fingers on his desk in a rhythmic motion. Marchiones Fresa had said Querido was injured but… how bad was it if he needed someone else to write for him?

He began to feel a little anxious. Getting up from his desk, he went to his Father’s office.

Knocking on the door, he was told to come in.

“Father, sorry to interrupt, but I had a question for you.”

Duke Invierno gave his son an amicable smile and waved for him to sit down.

“What do you have for me, my boy?”

“Have you heard about anything unusual happening in Fresa March?”

The Duke raised his eyebrows, “Shouldn’t you know more than me about that?”

“So something DID happen?”

“You didn’t hear directly from Heir Fresa?”

Ron gave his Father an annoyed look.

“If I had heard would I be asking?!”

“No reason to get testy with me. How am I supposed to know what you do and don’t talk about?” The Duke huffed back. “And considering… well, I thought he’d tell you.”

“TELL ME WHAT?!”

“That the previous Viscount rebelled against Marchioness Fresa. Heir Rido lost his arm in the conflict and the March has been a disaster since then.”

Ron’s whole face paled.

“Lost his arm? His whole arm?!”

“I’m not sure how much of it he lost, only that he did.”

“Oh no, why didn’t he tell me?!”

Duke Invierno scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully.

“Could be a number of reasons. Amputation can kill a person. He might not have been well enough to write anything. And then once he got better, he might not have wanted to talk about it. Besides that, how he lost his arm is…” The Duke shook his head. “Talking about it might be like reliving it. If that’s the case, it’s not surprising he hasn’t spoken of it to you.”

“Reliving it? Exactly how did he lose his arm?”

Duke Invierno was silent for a moment and then explained slowly, “The Marchioness official statement to the King said… the previous Viscount tortured her son….”

“HE WHAT?!”

“Yes, apparently the boy’s arm was crushed and couldn’t be saved.”

Ron shot out of his seat, pale face red with anger.

“How could he do such a thing to his lord?!”

“What do you think happens in rebellions, everyone sits down for tea and cakes?”

“Don’t joke Father!”

“I’m just saying that rebellions are violent. The Marchioness is lucky she and her son didn’t die.”

Actually, the Duke didn’t think the Marchioness was lucky. Based on the official statement she sent to the King, which naturally got passed around to every noble in the country, he thought she was extremely clever.

Some things were revealed in that official statement that suggested the Marchioness had been oppressed for a long time under the Viscount. If that was really the case, it meant most of her actions until that point had been a means of survival. The vicious rumors, withdrawing from high society ten years ago, her son being unexpectedly talented….

All moves to survive until she could regain control over her fief.

Was it possible the friendship between their sons had also been a method of strengthening her position?

He thought all this, but his son was too pure to have that kind of doubt. He innocently thought he found a worthy rival and peer and wanted to be friends.

Sometimes Duke Invierno worried about the Duchy’s future when he looked at his son.

Ron began pacing his Father’s office, blissfully unaware his Father was looking down on him.

“This is just… no wonder I didn’t hear from him for so long!”

“Hm.”

“Father, what have we done to help?”

“Help?”

Ron cast his father a disgruntled glare.

“You can’t tell me this all happened and you just watched?”

Duke Invierno shifted awkwardly in his chair.

“Ron, my boy, what could I do to help after the fact? The Viscount and everyone involved has already been executed—”

“But you said the March is still a disaster!”

“Well, yes, but what has that got to do with us? The King didn’t send aid, why should we?”

“Why? Because he’s my friend!”

The Duke sighed at such naivete.

“Maybe you are but I’m not. I have no personal or political ties with Fresa March. It would be difficult to help without looking like I’ve got some ulterior motive or that I’m supporting people I don’t mean to support…”

Invierno Duchy and Fresa March were at odds politically. The Invierno Family had been solidly in the King’s Faction for generations. The Fresa Family, and the Marchioness’ maternal Mora Family, traditionally sided with the Nobles Faction. That faction treated the King as a puppet ruler rather than a real leader. And lately the Marchioness had been confusing everyone by associating with the Marron’s, who were part of that dubious Loyalist Faction.

If he, the Duke of Invierno Duchy, helped Fresa March, it would be like openly siding with either the Nobles or the Loyalists. He wasn’t going to do that. The Nobles Faction had already eaten away at the King’s power, causing all kinds of chaos in the country. And as for the Loyalists…

Count Marron would latch onto him like a lifeline and never let go. He really didn’t watch that kind of leech in his life! Just thinking about dealing with Count Marron made Duke Invierno develop a headache.

“But Father, we can’t just do nothing!” The young man brightened, as if thinking of something. “Won’t it set a bad precedence? A lesser noble rebelled, won’t it look bad if other nobles let that slide?”

“There’s no such thing. The Marchioness made sure to send a message to the lower and less nobles in all fiefs by executing so many in her own fief.” He raised his silver eyebrow. “She was quite vicious about it too. I heard all the executions were public.”

Ron stopped pacing for a moment, shocked.

“Really? She executed them publicly?”

“Yes. And the only nobles who survived were ones personally vouched for by her most trusted subordinates.”

The wheels in the younger man’s brain seemed to visibly turn.

“Doesn’t that mean she’s really short on people?”

“Why do you think the March is in chaos?”

“Then we can—”

The Duke raised a hand and shook his head.

“I told you I can’t unless the King takes the first step.”

“There must be some way! Please Papa, for my sake if not theirs!”

Duke Invierno stiffened. After turning 12, Ron had stopped calling him Papa. This wasn’t surprising, most children stopped using it when they hit a certain age. It was just that the Duke missed being called that….

“Well…”

Seeing his Father hesitate, Ron kept pushing his luck.

“I know you’ve got a way. You always have a way. There’s nothing in the world you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”

Duke Invierno coughed, knowing what his son was doing but unable to stop himself from falling for it.

“I really respect that part of you, Papa. I can only hope to be half as amazing as you…”

“Alright, alright. You can stop now. I’ll think of something.”

Ron grinned widely, “Thank you, Papa!”

***

Felicia stood holding a letter and looked at the large group of people currently standing in the entryway of the mansion, amazed and dumbfounded. Rido was standing next to her, also surprised.

“Did you….?” She asked after a moment.

He shook his head. “No warning at all.”

The crowd was filled with pale colored people sporting silver hair or eyes, mixed with light purples and yellows. They were all clearly natives of Invierno Duchy.

The letter had been one of introductions from Heir Nubarron Invierno. It was on an official Invierno stationary with a wax seal that was shaped like a wolf but the contents were not, technically, official. It listed every name and occupation, with a plea to help the Duchy out by giving them some place to live and work. It was written in a very casual manner as further proof that nothing was demanded, simply suggested.

Almost everyone was a 3 or 4th son of a lesser and lower noble. Just as the Marron Family had sent talented youngsters that had no place to go in their fief, it seemed the Invierno Duchy had done the same.

Of course, it was 7 months late and had happened without any warning, but the intentions were clear. Her son’s friend was trying to help without dragging the Invierno Duchy into a messy faction war. The suddenness of their appearance was probably to catch everyone involved, enemies and allies alike, off guard. She was one part touched, one part exasperated by the method, and one part surprised it had happened at all.

She knew Rido and the Invierno Heir shared letters, but she hadn’t realized they were close enough to do something like this.

“Should we keep them?” She asked Rido out of the side of her mouth, low enough so the crowd couldn’t hear her.

Rido blinked and whispered back, “Why are you asking me?”

“Aren’t they a gift from your friend? Since they’re for you, you get to deal with them.”

The young man furrowed his brow.

“Let me see the letter again.” He said after a moment and, having it handed over, looked through the list. He muttered, “...they really do appear promising.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

He was silent for a moment. They were really short on people. It hurt his pride to accept this kind of gift from that clingy penpal, but turning them away seemed like a waste...

“You really want me to decide?”

“Did I raise an idiot?”

He sighed, folding the letter. “Fine, we’ll keep them.”

She smiled, pleased with his answer.

She pat him on the back and said, “Good, good. Then you also get to assign them and tell them what to do.”

“....pardon?”

“You can’t possibly think I’m going to do it?” She gave him a knowing look. “It would be better for everyone involved if this stays between you and Heir Invierno. That means they’re your problem, not mine.” Her expression brightened, “Besides, I’m swamped as it is, it’s time you shared my burden.”

He gave her a complicated look.

“Why do I feel I’m being punished?”

Felicia snorted. “Don’t be such a brat. Consider it preparation for when you inherit your title.”

Rido nodded slowly.

“Alright…”

Their visit was sudden but the mansion was large and, as there were only two masters, empty. To the surprise of the “gifts” they were all stuffed in various rooms throughout the mansion rather than being politely kicked out to find room and board for themselves like they expected.

That night, Rido and Valor went through the copious amounts of records his mother had created to find places for everyone. They worked well past their usual bedtimes, cross checking their information to make sure they didn’t make any mistakes.

The next day all the “gifts” were given a pleasantly hearty breakfast and told where they were to go. Everyone got official letters to take with them to show to each town and city they were taking over. They were given clear instructions on their jobs and what was expected of them and what wouldn’t be tolerated. Everyone was given a 5th rank title of Lord and told to prove themselves if they wanted to rise up to greater heights.

Fresa March was desperate for good people, but not foolish enough to let young, unproven nobles do as they liked. Everyone started at the bottom and through hard work could rise up. They currently had a single Viscount and Baron. There was lots of room for growth.

Every young nobleman was excited. They hadn’t been sure they’d be accepted and didn’t take offense to being told by someone much younger than them they had to work for their title. This was better than their situation back home, where there was no place for them at all thanks to their older siblings inheriting everything.

***

A large oil-papered package arrived one sunny spring day at Fresa Mansion. When it was placed on Felicia’s desk, she didn’t think anything of it. With spring having arrived, the short respite she got from winter was gone and she was back to working all hours of the day, 7 days a week.

By the time she got to it, the sun had already set and she was working by lamp light.

She squealed with delight so loudly that Tie, who’d been nearby organizing completed paperwork, dropped her papers in surprise.

“Tie, get Valor and Fijo immediately!” Felicia lifted a piece of paper up and kicked her legs excitedly under her dress.

Tie, always the curious sort, walked over to take a peek. “Marchioness, what is it—?”

Felicia pressed the paper to her chest to hide it, and scowled at Tie.

“No peeking! Go get them first!”

Tie raised both eyebrows but didn’t try to argue further.

Valor was easy to find, since he was with Rido. Fijo was a little more difficult, as he always had energy and hated sitting still. Despite being run all over the fief, he never got tired and was always looking for something to do.

She looked for Fijo first before bothering with Valor, and then walked with them both back to the Marchioness’ office. By the time the three arrived, they discovered she’d removed all her paperwork from her desk and replaced them with various large pieces of paper.

They walked up to the desk to find it was a large map pieced together using several smaller maps.

“What’s this all about?” Fijo asked curiously.

Felicia puffed up her chest proudly, “A map of, if not the entire world, enough of it for what matters to us.”

Fijo and Tie looked at each other in confusion. Valor, however, looked excited.

“You found it?” He asked with a gleam in his eye.

Felicia grinned triumphantly, “I found it!”

“Hey, at least two people here don’t know what was found!” Tie complained, annoyed at being left out.

Felicia stood up and pointed to a familiar map.

“Salvias, where we are,” She then moved her finger eastward, over several pieces of paper, until landed on the very last one, “and here is what we call the Vardent Continent. Which has the Fuerte Kingdom, or as you know it…”

“The Sabz Empire.” Valor finished for her.

Tie’s eyes turned round as saucers, while Fijo examined the maps with interest.

The young man tilted his head, “So this is where we were born, huh?”

“It looks really far away…”

Felicia nodded at Tie’s observation.

“Indeed, it’s very far away. It took me quite some time to find it since we call it something different here and our maps for that area aren’t very accurate since Salvias ships never go that far. To find it, I had Blackfire Company hire the best map-maker in the country four years ago to update all their maps and, while he was out there, ask around to find your homeland. I’ve been getting regular updates since then.”

Valor glanced at her in surprise.

“You’ve been searching for four years?”

“I did promise, didn’t I?”

Fijo frowned, “What did you promise?”

“That once Barrera was dead, I would find your home and you could go back.”

Fijo and Tie stiffened as one and said together, “WHAT?!”

“You don’t remember?” She blinked in surprise before realizing, “Oh right, you were both quite young at the time and barely spoke our language. I suppose it’s not surprising you don’t remember, though I thought Valor might have reminded you.”

“Valor only said we’d definitely find our way back someday...” Fijo shrugged, “Honestly, we just thought it was wishful thinking after the first year.”

Tie looked at the map in a daze and then looked at Valor.

“You really intended on sending us back?”

“That was the agreement I made with the Marchioness originally, yes.”

Tie eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered.

“No, I don’t want to!” She turned to Felicia, “Marchioness, don’t send us away because of some stupid deal you made with Valor!”

“It wasn’t stupid!” Valor protested.

Felicia hesitated. “Whether you stay or go, that’s for each of you to decide. I never intended on trapping you here.”

Tie started to tremble, “You don’t— don’t want us anymore?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But you’re going to send us back!”

Tie burst into tears, surprising everyone.

“I never said— goodness child!” Felicia hurried around the desk to hug the younger woman. “Stop crying, you silly thing! I never said I was sending you away, but as I said, I did promise your brother I would find your homeland and at least give you the optio—”

“No!!!” She howled through her tears, “I— I— don’t want to go!”

She gripped the Marchioness like it was her lifeline, burying her face into the older woman’s shoulder and sobbing. Felicia pat her back in alarm.

“Heavens, then don’t go!”

“This is my h—h—home!”

“Of course it is!”

“Why would I want to go someplace I b-b-barely remember!”

“Yes, yes, it’d be very unfair for you.”

“All my family over there was m-m-murdered anyway, who do I have to r-r-return to?”

“Well, that’s… er….”

Tie pulled away from Felicia, her cyan eyes red from crying.

“You and Rido are my only family now.”

Felicia felt tears prick her eyes, moved.

“Hey, what are we? A garnish?” Fijo spoke up, annoyed at his sister’s over-the-top crying.

Tie sniffled and glared at him. “Who knows what you two are? I don’t care. I’m staying here. Do what you want, harumph!”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Fijo rolled his eyes.

Valor grimaced and looked at his younger brother. “Fijo, you will have to go.”

“Eh? Me?” Fijo pointed at himself and then began shaking his head. “I don’t want to go either!”

He’d been annoyed at his sister’s response but he more or less felt the same as she did.

“I can’t go, but someone must.”

“Why can’t you go?” Fijo took a step back. “And why does anyone need to go? We can all just stay here!”

Valor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“While our immediate family was murdered, our extended family should still be alive—”

“Who cares if they are?! It’s not like they rescued us when we needed it, it’s not like they raised us,” Fijo couldn’t help feeling angry the more he thought about. “We don’t owe them anything! They can just rot over there for all I care!”

“It’s true we don’t owe them but…. It would be good for the Marchioness and Rido if we got in contact with them.”

Fijo didn’t look convinced.

Valor sighed. “Did both of you forget who we’re related to?”

Getting blank stares in return, he belatedly realized they really must have forgotten. He supposed that was his fault. Other than forcing them to remember the names of their immediate family and kin, he’d only brought up extended family in passing.

He muttered in annoyance and glanced at the Marchioness. In the past he’d hidden who they were related to because he didn’t trust her, and later because he didn’t want anyone to benefit from his family relations. Now it came to him that maybe she’d known all along.

Had she known?

He squinted at her, as if trying to divine whether she’d known and that was why she took them in.

Getting stared at by Valor so intently caused Felicia to look at him in bewilderment.

Unable to help himself, he asked, “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Who we are related to.”

She raised her eyebrows for a moment before lowering them.

“Yes.” Felicia admitted before quickly adding, “But that’s not why I took you three in.”

“Really?”

She returned his gaze steadily.

“I promise you that was not why.”

They remained locked in a stare for several seconds. He suddenly looked away and gave a single laugh.

“I believe you. I have no right not to believe after all.”

Felicia shook her head, “Sensible doubts never hurt anyone.”

“What are you two talking about?” Tie spoke up, her tears finally drying.

Valor shrugged, unwilling to answer her. Instead he looked back at Fijo.

“You may have forgotten, but our father came from a powerful family. The only reason we never saw our paternal relatives was because we lived on the borders of the Sabz Empire and they lived in the capital. Unless the traitor who wiped out our family managed to get into the heart of the country, our paternal side of the family should be alive and well. We could try sending a letter, but there’s no guarantee that it would get to them and it would be faster for one of us to go and explain everything.”

Fijo hesitated for a moment. He may be a muscle head but he’d been forcely educated on the basics of international politics and trade. He also understood River Port did business internationally and needed all the help it could get.

“Are you… trying to connect the Marchioness to them?”

“Yes. If our family finds out we’re alive and were treated well by a noble in Salvias, they will naturally be grateful. Even if they’re far away, such connections will be immensely useful for the Marchioness and Rido going forward.”

The young man went quiet for a moment before asking again, “But why can’t you go?”

“I am…. Bound by an oath to stay and protect Rido.”

“An oath? When did you make an oath?”

Valor looked uncomfortable. They may be ignorant about a lot of things, but if he said he’d made a life-oath they’d understand instantly. They’d ask when his life was in danger and been saved, because life-oaths were only given for that reason, and he’d have no way to explain it without exposing the Marchioness.

“After Rido was kidnapped, I made an oath to protect him.”

This wasn’t too far from the truth, and would be reasonable given their relationship and what had happened. Tie was satisfied with this answer but Fijo was giving his brother a funny stare, as if he vaguely realized something wasn’t right.

“Anyway, I can’t leave.” He glanced at Tie. “And I wouldn’t ask Tie to go by herself even if she wanted to go.”

“Hey!”

“It’s too dangerous for you to travel alone.” Valor said with a frown.

“I can defend myself!”

“That may be so but you’re too young and too pretty.” Felicia poked Tie’s tear stained cheek in partial playfulness. “Someone might try to kidnap you.”

In her time, letting a teenager travel internationally by themselves was a big deal. And parents only allowed for that kind of travel if they thought the trip would be safe. Considering how dangerous it was to travel in this era, who’d let a young girl go off on her own?

Fijo ran his fingers through his hair and frowned.

“Alright, I’ll go.” He finally conceded. “But I’m definitely coming back!”

“That’s a given.” Valor agreed and added, “Make sure you tell them you are expected back. If they want to meet us, they must send someone to come and see us.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He didn’t look happy. “How long do you think it’ll take me to get over there?”

Felicia looked at the distance. “Two to three months if you go by ship, I think.”

“Three months….” The young man muttered, brow furrowed.

“We won’t expect you back for at least a year though.” Valor warned him.

“What, a year? Why a year?”

“Once you get there, you will have to travel inland. That will increase the travel time. And then there is the matter of getting an appointment…”

“Appointment?”

“You can’t possibly think the Emperor of Sabz is just going to be sitting around, easy to find and see, right?”

“Emperor? I’m meeting an Emperor?!”

“I told you we were related to powerful people!”

“That’s different than saying we’re related to an Emperor!!!”

Valor sighed, wondering if this brother of his was going to be alright on his own. “Once you finally talk to him, he won’t let you turn around and come back immediately. He will make you stay for a time, re-introduce you to the family and throw some parties.”

“Parties?”

“Of course! At this point they likely think we’re all dead. Finding out we’re alive and living well will be reason to celebrate. And that means they’re going to throw a party. At least one, but I suspect there will be more.” He raised his eyebrow. “Be prepared. I remember Father saying the parties the palace throws are something else.”

Fijo started feeling nervous. He’d grown up under the Marchioness’ care and around the Marron family, aristocrats who were unusually laid back. For nobles he didn’t know, he tried to stay quiet and unnoticed to avoid trouble. A task made more difficult because he looked different from everyone around him. Now he was going to meet a foreign Emperor and party in a palace? He wasn’t sure he was ready!

“After that, I think he will send some people back to make sure things are alright. Perhaps as support too. We’ll see. Anyway, a bigger group will move more slowly, it will take more time coming back than leaving.”

While Fijo was regretting volunteering himself, Tie was regretting making a huge fuss about leaving. Now that she heard they were related to an Emperor and there’d be a party, she really wanted to visit. Not live there forever, but at least see it once before she died.

But she’d just sobbed her heart out. If she turned around and said she wanted to go too they’d call her unstable and silly. They’d heckle her endlessly for it so she could only quietly pout at her own short-sighted behavior.

***

Once a decision was made, Rido was informed. He hadn’t known his Mother had been searching for the sibling’s homeland and was surprised. While he was anxious about Fijo leaving the country and going to a place so far away, he also understood it wouldn’t be right to demand he stay. If they still had family who missed them, they should be informed about the siblings whereabouts.

A ship was chartered for Fijo and two weeks later he left. Though everyone had agreed on it, the day Fijo left the country, Valor and Tie were unusually quiet.

Rido watched Valor fluctuate between hyper-focusing on work and then standing around in a daze throughout the entire day. It was obvious he was using busy-work to distract himself from missing his younger brother and failing spectacularly.

“You could have gone with him.” Rido commented, unable to stand Valor’s moping anymore. “I’m not some helpless child that can’t function without you.”

Valor hadn’t expected Rido to care. They hadn’t been on good terms since his life-oath.

“It’s not about your competence.” Valor responded, “Things still aren’t stable here. Of the three of us, Fijo is the only one who can leave without it causing problems.”

“If you were that worried about the March, you could have waited for things to calm down. Then you could have gone too.”

Valor looked out the window and shook his head.

“Unless you order me, I won’t leave your side.”

Rido’s lips twitched, a trace of anger and hurt flashing across his face.

“You are a free man, whatever you think. You can do as you like.” He responded icely and then began walking away. He paused after a few steps and added testily, “Don’t blame me later when you regret having stayed!”

He then marched out of the room in a huff.

Valor watched and his shoulders slumped slightly.

He murmured into the empty room, “Regretting is the privilege of the living. I can only be thankful to have the chance to regret...”

***

Rido walked into his Mother’s office, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Every window in the Mansion was open today and it still felt stifling. His Mother didn’t look much better than he did, despite Tie using a large hand fan to try and cool her off. Wisps of hair that had come loose from her simple bun hairstyle were sticking to the side of her face.

Summer was good for harvest and travel, but the heat was awful. Right now the very air felt like an oven.

“Mother, I just received an invitation from the Marron Family.”

Felicia glanced up at her son and gave him a questioning look.

“It seems Montana’s Debutante Ball is set for next month and I’m invited.”

“Excellent! I’ve been so busy lately I’d forgotten that was right around the corner.” She couldn’t help feeling excited. “The seamstress and I have been working on a new style for young men. You will sweep every young lady off their feet by wearing it. Naturally this includes the most important lady, Montana! Should I design a dress for her too? Oh, but she probably already has one in the works. Oh my, what kind of colors should you wear? Red, obvious but—”

His Mother began “talking shop” about fashion, causing Rido’s eyes to glaze over. One of the few pleasures his Mother could indulge in openly while under that pig’s thumb was clothes. From when he was very young till now, she had used him as a doll to sport her latest fashion.

The Countess had taken an interest in his Mother’s clothes and often “borrowed” her designs, forcing her husband and children to wear them. Nobles took an interest in the Marron’s practical but uniquely stylish clothing and began probing to find out who designed them. Of course, if those snobby aristocrats had known the designs came from Marchioness Fresa they wouldn’t have worn them. Countess Marron never revealed her source but instead redirected them to a tailor in Blackfire Company as her friend has requested.

Thus his Mother’s designs had spread throughout the upper crust of society. Rich commoners emulated nobles as closely as they could without breaking any decency laws. Both the nobles and the rich gave their “old” clothes to their most trusted and favorite servants as rewards. Now, from the top of society to the bottom, everyone wore something based on his Mother’s designs.

Rido didn’t mind his Mother’s fashion hobby, but he also didn’t care. He just wore whatever she wanted since it made her happy. As such, whenever she got excited and talked about fashion, his mind would immediately start drifting.

He listened to her chatter for several minutes before deciding it was time to move onto more important things.

“Mother, I have a request.”

She blinked at the interruption.

“Yes?”

He hesitated for a moment, feeling a little awkward bringing up this topic.

“If you would… talk to the Countess… about… er… about… an official engagement with—”

The Marchioness didn’t let him finish but stood up with a clatter. Tie dropped the fan she’d been waving at the sudden movement.

“You’ve decided!?”

“Uh, yes.”

His Mother’s whole face shined but then immediately she frowned, as if she thought of something. She sat back down and rearranged her face to look serious.

“Sit.”

Rido raised his eyebrows but sat down.

“The Marron Family is equal to our rank and both families will benefit from a marriage. It will definitely be a glorious match.” She cleared her throat and continued with some awkwardness, “But more importantly, my son, when you think of Montana does it… I mean to say... are you satisfied with your future together?”

“Of course I am satisfied. As you have said, our families are equal. Each side has something to gain. It will be a good match. Our fiefs will thrive with the help of the Marron Family.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Yes, no… that’s true. But I am hoping… hoping for… something more…”

Rido couldn’t help feeling puzzled.

“What more do you want?”

“It’s just…” She began twiddling her fingers nervously. “I married for benefits and it was… er… you see me now… a widow… mmm…. It’s true I have all the creature comforts of life and I lack for nothing… but I… I am perhaps a bit short in some areas, perhaps, maybe…. It would be better if you did not… if it was not… the same...”

He watched her closely, listening to the intent and not the words.

Rido guessed after a bit of thinking, “Are you asking if I’m happy to wed Montana?”

The Marchioness looked relieved.

“Yes, that!”

“We’ve known each other since we were children and have always gotten along.” He subconsciously touched his prosthetic hand. “And she doesn’t mind my injury either. What else can I ask for in a woman I am to marry? I am… content.”

“Only content?”

Seeing his Mother was still worried, he softened his expression and rephrased his words:

“I am happy Mother. You like her and I like her, and she fits with us.”

The Marchioness looked at her son carefully and slowly nodded.

“Then I will talk to the Countess for you.” She paused and added, “Remember, my son, that up until the wedding certificate is signed, you can change your mind. I am not so desperate I would sell my son, even to a friend. You are not trapped, you are free to choose.”

“Don’t worry Mother. I am confident in my decision. I won’t change my mind.”

It was not really a lie. Contentment was a form of happiness, after all.

***

Felicia lay in bed, staring into the dark and looking melancholy.

‘DARS, I don’t understand why he wants to marry her if he doesn’t love her and isn’t being forced into it. How can he say he’ll be happy like this?’

[There are many different kinds of happiness.]

She pouted, ‘Sure but the kind of happiness I wanted for him was love.’

[Why didn’t you tell him no then?]

‘I decided a long time ago to let him decide. Whether he married a Princess or a commoner, I’d let him make the final decision. If I tell him what to do now, I’m no better than every other aristocrat in this country…. Breaking my word and changing my mind whenever it suits me…’ She put her arm over her face and sighed. ‘I just didn’t expect him to marry for duty rather than love. I thought for sure if he had the choice, he’d definitely choose love.’

[As I said, there are many different kinds of happiness. Perhaps what brings him happiness is not romantic love.]

Felicia lowered her arm and made a face.

‘Maybe you're right, but it’s unfair to Montana. She’s such a sweet girl, and so young. What if she ends up unhappy later because of my son? I’d never forgive myself.’

[She doesn’t have to marry Querido either.]

‘Oh come on, we both know she’s got a huge crush on him. She’ll jump at the chance. Not to mention Count Marron will be pushing for it too, just to get a Duchy…’ Felicia groaned, rubbing both temples. ‘...just thinking about the process to turn our fiefs into a Duchy is enough to give me a headache…’

[Let’s not borrow tomorrow’s trouble.]

‘True.’ She dropped her hands to her side with a thump and tried to be optimistic. ‘It’s not like marrying for duty means there won’t be love later. She already loves him, half the work is done. He just has to fall in love with her later and it’ll be fine.’

[...]

Seeing her circular pal did not respond positively, she panicked.

‘Why aren’t you saying anything?? They’re not going to be one of those miserable couples who fights all the time, are they?!’

[Querido is not that useless.]

She exhaled noisily in relief.

[Rather, it is unlikely he will love her in the way that you’re hoping.]

‘But why?!’

DARS swayed slightly in the air, a thoughtful air about him.

[He’s just… not interested.]

‘Not interested? What do you mean? Not interested in Montana?’ She stiffened. ‘Or is it just women he’s not interested in?’

[Stop jumping to conclusions.] DARS scolded her. [It’s romance. He’s not interested in romance.]

‘...oh.’

[Based on my calculations, he won’t love Montana romantically. But at the same time, he won’t love anyone else in that way either.]

Felicia’s face puckered like she’d swallowed a lemon.

‘Seriously?’

[Yes.]

‘Great, just great….’ She sighed heavily. ‘I guess I can always assure her of his loyalty, even if I can’t do anything about his feelings.’ Felicia's expression drooped, feeling sad, ‘It’s just…. I wish he didn’t have to marry at all if it was going to be like this.’

[Not an option.]

‘I know. Responsibility for continuing the noble family line and all that…’ She snorted in annoyance. ‘This is all that stupid Barrera’s fault! It’s like Rido lost more than his arm because of what happened. He’s not been the same since then… I can’t even tell what he thinks anymore without asking you…’

[Then it’s good I am here to help.]

‘Yeah….’ She rolled over onto her side and picked at the sheets tiredly, muttering aloud, “It’s tough balancing fief and family.”

DARS lowered himself, hopping gently on her upturned shoulder.

She couldn’t help giggling and reached out to grab him, hugging him close to her chest.

Putting her cheek on his round smooth body, she yawned.

Her host’s body took the long work hours hard. It was difficult to remain awake after going to bed now, and often she passed out the moment her head touched the pillow. It was only because she was worried that she managed to stay awake this long.

“I’m glad you’re here DARS.” She said in a low sleepy voice. “I couldn’t do this without you. Thank you… for being… here...”

[Your wel—]

DARS didn’t get to complete the phrase before she had fallen asleep.

[—come.]

He was silent for a moment before saying to the sleeping woman next to him, [I couldn’t do it without you either, Fe.]

***

Debutante Balls were to the girls what the Sunage Games were for the boys. It was the first major step for a girl into womanhood. She would wear her hair up for the first time and dance with eligible bachelors. For a night, she would be the center of everyone’s attention.

It sounded great on the surface, but it was actually a lot of work. Like a graceful swan paddling like crazy under the water, a girl at her Debutante looked lovely but never had a moment's rest.

Why?

Because she was the Host of the party as well as the Star.

The Host planned everything from time, place, and appearance of the Ball. Who was invited and where they sat and what they ate, was all the host’s responsibility. As nobles were all about connections and looking good to their peers, it was easy to accidentally offend them by sitting them next to the wrong person or not greeting them lavishly enough.

Debutante Balls were a trial-by-fire for a girl coming into adulthood. She got her first real, unfiltered taste of high society. Whether her Debutante Ball succeeded or failed was entirely dependent on her own skills. No excuses were accepted.

The saying “friends and lovers lived and died at a Debutante Ball” was scarily accurate. If a girl planned poorly, it would haunt her for the rest of her life, to the point that she’d lose friends and potential marriage partners. In the worst case scenario she could offend her parent’s connections, cutting off her family’s influence and, thus, power.

The pressure on a young girl to be perfect for her Debutante Ball was enormous.

But it was also an illusion.

Which noblewoman hadn’t felt the terror of her Debutante Ball? Unless the parents had unrealistic standards, there was an understanding their daughters were going to make mistakes. All the attending adults thought the same. Their standards were low from the start, even if the girl’s in question didn’t realize it.

It was just that the mothers had a tradition of putting on a harsh face to failure and acting indifferent to success. Since the point of these balls was to really truly introduce a girl to high society, it didn’t make sense to coddle her. High society didn’t care for a woman’s feelings and certainly wouldn’t forgive failure. If a young girl could not accept this simple truth, she was going to live a miserable life.

Most of the real pressure came from the girl’s peers. The adults pretended to be mean on the outside while they had compassion on the inside. The opposite was true for a young girl’s peer group. They often appeared compassionate on the outside, while ruthlessly judging everyone on the inside.

Thus, most girls' real battle was not with the adults but with her own age group. And most of her stress steamed from her desire to show off to her friends and any bachelors attending. If she lost friends or lovers, it was more because she was too embarrassed to talk to them after a slip up than because they were ignoring her.

The Marron Family, quite frankly, didn’t have very high standards for Montana’s Debutante Ball. It was not just them. All their friends and acquaintances more or less expected a disaster as well.

Montana had spent her life carefree, doing whatever she wanted without much regard to the future. She was too young to remember her oldest sister, Linda’s, Debutante Ball, but she definitely could remember her second sister, Colina’s, Debutante Ball. Everyone else could remember her there too.

She had found the main desert, a giant cake, and eaten a large chunk of it before it had been served to the guests. Then, suffering from a severe sugar rush, had run around the dance hall covered in sugar like a madman. It was said that Colina got so angry at Montana for ruining her Ball she actually fainted.

Truthfully, if Montana had planned her Debutante Ball prior to her stay in the Fresa Mansion, it would have been a disaster. But her time with the Marchioness had shown her what she was capable of and also given her the practical experience needed for coordinating a large scale event. After all, she’d been directly involved with the Marchioness reorganizing her fief. By comparison, a Debutante Ball was nothing.

Her family watched in shock as she, without anyone “reminding” her, began planning for her Debutante Ball. She called in the Butler, Housekeeper, and Chef, talking about what she wanted done and when it needed to be done. Orders were put in for decorations and food and whatever else was needed well in advance of the date.

For the guests, she wrote down everyone’s name on small cards and began pairing them up based on what she knew about them. When she was done, she called her brother over to see if she’d missed anyone or forgotten anything important.

That she asked Serio and not her father showed a surprising amount of maturity. Serio wouldn’t speak nicely to her like her father. However, he didn’t ramble as much either and was more informed about younger aristocrats and had a firm grasp on their family connections.

If she lacked in anything, it was that her sense of decorations were questionable and she’d focused too much on her own taste in party food rather than catering to her guests' needs. This could be forgiven from someone no one had any expectations from the start.

***

Felicia and Rido arrived a day in advance for Montana’s Debutante Ball. When it had gotten late into the night and most everyone had gone to bed, Felicia went to Montana’s bedroom and, not unexpectedly, found her still awake. Most girls were awake from nerves or last minute details needing to be fixed or finished.

After Montana let her in, they chatted a few minutes about the following day’s activity.

“What’s the real reason you came so late at night?” Montana finally asked.

Felicia chuckled at being found. She took Montana’s hand and squeezed it.

“My dear, you know that I like you, yes?”

“Sure.”

“And you know that I am very much looking forward to you marrying over.”

Montana blushed, nodding slowly.

“I came here tonight because I wanted to make sure of how you felt.”

“How I feel?” She blinked in surprise, “Why, Marchioness, I thought you already knew…”

“Oh, I know you like my son.”

“Then why ask?”

Felicia bit her lip. “It’s just… you see… Rido has never been the same since he lost his arm.”

Montana nodded sadly. She had noticed it too. He used to be gentle and tolerant, but now he was moody and shap-tongued.

“And I don’t want you to… to marry over and… and be caught off guard.”

“I understand Marchioness,” She covered her heart, “I know he’s hurt. It will take time to heal. I’ll be patient.”

“Er, that’s very sweet but not quite what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

Felicia was silent for a long moment.

“Sometimes no matter how much you love a person, the kind of love they are able to give in return won’t… won’t match.” Seeing the young woman still looking confused, she tried to explain again, “Can you keep loving him even if he never loves you the same way?”

This time Montana looked upset. “Do you mean he won’t ever love me? That he doesn’t love me now? That’s he just pursuing me for— for what then? My family? He wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh my dear... He does like you, sincerely he does. It’s just that the fervent love you have for him he may not… be able to give it back. Not to you, not to anyone.”

Montana pulled her hand out of Felicia’s grip and glared at her.

“You make him sound hopeless!”

Felicia took a deep breath and looked her steadily in the eye.

“If he is hopeless, would you still love him anyway?”

Montana's face flushed with anger.

“How can you say that about your own son? How can you say he’s hopeless! You don’t know the future!”

Felicia inwardly sighed. She didn’t know the future, but her round companion was another matter. There was no way to explain that to Montana though.

“Montana, it’s not that I mean to say he’s hopeless, I am just trying to prepare you for the worst.”

“Well, don’t! I love Rido, I love him! Even if— even if he doesn’t love me as much right now, he will later! My love can change him!” Her eyes began to fill with tears. She seemed to realize she was about to cry and turned her back to Felicia, saying stiffly, “Please leave, Marchioness. I have things I still need to attend to.”

“My dear, I’m just trying to—”

“PLEASE!”

“...as the Young Lady likes then.”

After Felicia left, closing the door behind her, she glanced at DARS with a grim expression on her face.

‘...seniors are right when they say the young think with their hearts and the elderly with their heads.’

[You did the right thing warning her.]

‘Did I? If I’d known she was going to cling to him like this, I shouldn’t have bothered. There’s a certain comfort that comes with being ignorant and now she won’t even have that.’

[Only for a time. In the long run, it is better she was given advanced notice.]

‘I hope you’re right.’

[When have I been wrong?]

She squinted at him, annoyed at his arrogance.

[If she had not been warned,] DARS continued, ignoring her obvious annoyance, [she would have felt like she’d been lied to by the Fresa Family and was trapped in a marriage of political convenience by people she trusted. She would resent her Father, Rido, and you... with her personality, she would fall into drinking and who-knows-what else to escape the pain of feeling betrayed. But now she will look back and see that you tried to warn her, that it was done out of love, and from the beginning she’d not been used. She will regret and she will cry. But she won’t resent others for her decisions.”

‘Is that supposed to be comforting? I feel more depressed now! I feel like I’m making two people miserable by allowing this!’

[You decided to let him choose. And you’ve given her the chance to make an informed choice as well. When you let people choose, you must accept they won’t always make the wisest decisions.]

‘I just want them both to be happy though….’

[Who says they won’t be happy? Just because things don’t work as you’d hoped, doesn’t mean they won’t be happy. It will just be a happiness of a different kind.]

***

The next day Montana managed to squeeze in time to find Rido and talk to him properly in private.

She looked up at him anxiously.

“Rido, I need to ask you a question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you… do you love me?”

He stiffened in surprise at her question before forcing his body to relax.

“Why are you asking that? Have I done something to make you think I don’t?”

“N-no….” She tugged at her dress, unwilling to tell him the Mother he adored thought he’d lost the ability to love.

He raised his ‘good hand’ and gently touched her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin under her eye.

“Montana, you are going to be family. You are important to me. Of course I care for you.”

She hesitated before grabbing the edge of his jacket, still feeling uneasy.

“Do you mean it?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Absolutely.”

Montana bit her lip, searching his face. His expression seemed gentle and sincere. It didn’t look like he was lying.

“Rido… you know…. I… I’ve loved you for a long time.”

He chuckled slightly, “I’m aware.”

Her eyes widened, surprised he knew.

“You’re not very good at hiding your feelings.” He lowered his hand to grab her’s, forcing her to let go of his vest. He gave it a small squeeze and smiled at her. “Your honesty is one of the things I like about you.”

His smile hit her like an arrow in the heart. Her brain momentarily floundered and she forgot whatever she’d meant to say next.

“...handsome…”

He cocked his head at her.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Huh?”

“Did you say I was handsome?”

“Yea— oh!” She came to herself all at once and blushed.

Letting go of his hand, she took a step back and straightened herself.

“Um! That’s all I wanted to ask!” She shuffled her feet in embarrassment, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve got things to do so— so— I must be going!”

With a wave of her hand, she scurried away, cheeks still flaming red.

Rido’s gaze followed her as she left and once she was out of sight, he frowned deeply. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a gusty sigh.

“That was close.”

The sound of a servant walking his way caused him to straighten his posture. By the time the servant saw him and quietly moved to the side, his face was once again congenial.