Saint Richards Street. It was perhaps the widest street in all the capitol. Designated as the prime administrative hub of the entire kingdom, many grand structures dotted its length. These included the Royal Chancery, office of the Chancellor and home to a massive library of administrative documents used throughout the kingdom, and the House of Lords, grandest of all.

Despite the tight city space around it, the House of Lords still managed to fit a great manor a few storeys in height. A walled garden surrounded the main building, forming paths lined with the myriad color of exotic flowers and the cool shade of fruit-bearing trees. It was, barring the Royal Castle itself, the jewel of architecture and aesthetics of the entire Kingdom.

It started as a mere trickle, but as morning grew brighter, a stream of carriages arrived at its ornate steel gates. And one by one, fine ladies, escorted by well-dressed gentlemen, descended from each of the carriages.

One such lady was Countess Adventine of Windham.

"Watch your step, Charlotte, my dear." A dandy gentleman with a slick, though greying, beard reached his hand out to her.

She giggled as she replied, "Thank you, dear."

She entered the gates with her escort hand-in-hand, cognizant that all eyes were trained on her. Many of her peers, Lords in their own right, each gave her a nod or a smile as she passed. It mattered not that they were lower or higher in the hierarchy of the Royal Peerage - it was a testament to her youthful beauty. It was a reaction she was used to - expected, even.

But soon, her eyes fell upon the broad shoulders of the man beside her.

He was the only one who had never looked at me in such a way. Hah. Thinking about it now, that was rather rude of him, was it not?

Covering her lips with her fingers, she let out a tiny giggle.

"Hm? What is it?" the man asked.

"Oh, pardon me, it's nothing."

The trees rustled with a soothing ambience. Despite the rather urban setting, the open green space was just enough to lure the breeze down towards its guests.

Amidst the fluttering shadow of the leaves appeared a large man. He approached them with a jovial smile between his plump cheeks, saying, "Lord Christoff, good morning!"

It seemed he hid his large belly beneath strategically padded clothing to make it shake less while he walked, but overall, it made him look even larger than usual.

"Ah, Lord Rosteforough," the gentleman greeted back, "it's been quite some time."

"Hah, indeed it has!"

Despite, in reality, being close companions, the two addressed each other formally throughout their conversation. Such was the etiquette demanded at the forum where they had gathered.

Count Rosteforough then turned to the lady and, placing his hat upon his chest, he nodded and said, "And a fine morning to you, Lady Adventine."

"Good morning, Lord Rosteforough," she said, beaming his way a polite smile.

"By the way," said Count Christoff swerving his eyes from side to side, "I do not see Lady Hazel around..."

"Ah, yes. She can't make it today, see," the chubby man replied with a grin, "she's carrying our third child."

"Oh my." She covered her mouth with her fingertips and giggled. "Congratulations, Lord Rosteforough."

"Congratulations," the gentleman added, "but in that case, who did you bring as your guest?"

"Oh, just my bodyguard, over there." He pointed to the far tree where a man in plated armor stood by, looking towards their direction. "It's a pain to have him follow me around everywhere, though. How about you two? You're both Lords so you ought to be allowed to bring a guest each."

"No, it's fine. Two is company enough," he then gave his woman glance and asked, "isn't it?"

She simply giggled, without saying a word.

But it was precisely because of that cold exterior that, when he confessed to me, I was taken completely by surprise. Curiosity got the better of me, and the next thing I knew, we were betrothed.

My, what a strange turn of events.

Their light conversation continued for a short time, though mostly between the men, close friends as they were. This left Charlotte free to wander her eyes while she kept a smile towards them.

And soon, she laid her gaze on a child, being helped down a carriage by a young woman in familiar armor.

That woman... she's a Royal Guard.

The child faced her escort with a wide-eyed grin and tugged her forward. Curiously, it seemed as though their ages were reversed, as the royal guard zipped her curious eyes towards every ornament and detail she passed, like a kid on her first time in the park. Meanwhile, the little girl carried herself with the poise of a noble lady.

Oh my, how adorable. Whose child is she? Perhaps the King's... no, or we ought to have known about it by now. Though she does hold an uncanny resemblance to Princess Victoria...

She placed her palm over her cheek. "Hmm..."

As the girl entered the garden, a flock of nobles, both the men and their wives, soon surrounded around her.

And the Royalists are fawning over her.

Either way, what is she doing here? Surely, a girl that young cannot participate in the house's proceedings?

Before she could come to an answer, however, her attention turned to the light touch that descended upon her skin.

"My dear," said the gentleman as he ringed his gloved fingers around her wrist and then her hand, "it is time. Shall we?"

Taken by surprise, her train of thought instantly derailed. And with a slight nod, she soon followed the footsteps of her man.

Before long, she recalled the young girl, and try as she might, she would no longer catch another glimpse before the session was underway.

The House of Lords was split in two, east and west.

Each Lords sat in the respective bench where their main residences and fiefs were located, relative to the capitol. In particular, the Counts, Christoff and Rosteforough, along with Charlotte, Countess of Windham, sat on the west bench. Meanwhile, their counterparts, such as the Duke of Ealdshire, sat on the east bench.

Finally, at the end of the center isle, special benches were reserved for three people. On the western side sat the Lord Speaker of the House, Duke Hemmingsworth of Brandonbury. On the eastern side sat her the Crown Princess, Elizabeth, Duchess of Brimmingham. And at the middle, sat His Majesty himself, the King.

The congress of the House of Lords occurred once every two years; more or less often depending on the political climate. However, this one occurred just a year after the last one.

Ambient tension was high. The Lords, all savvy in political matters, knew the meanings behind subtle changes and decisions. Just calling a meeting so early after the last one sent an unspoken sense of alarm to each one.

All, apparently, except one.

At the far side of the room sat, in the eastern benches, the same girl, she had seen outside. She looked around the room, eyes twinkling in awe as she gawked at the fine architecture of the great hall. She examined every fresco, every carving; even going so far as to turn her head upwards for a good minute in admiration of the relief painted on the ceiling.

Her again... what is she doing in this chamber? Guests were supposed to stay outside until the session had concluded. Then again... if she was a part of the Royal Court, then she ought not to sit on the benches at all. Who is she, really...?

Once all the Lords were seated, and the lingering chatter ceased, the Lord Speaker, an imposingly tall man, stood up.

"We have gathered here," he said with a deep and guttural tone, "in the presence of His Royal Highness, King George, Duke of Wyllset-and-Aubury, Sovereign of all Londinium, and Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth, Duchess of Brimmingham, for the 49th conference of the House of Lords."

His tone then shifted, carrying a tinge of levity as her turned to his colleague on the western benches, saying, "Now, before everything else, I would like to recognise the outgoing Lord Speaker, my friend, His Grace, Duke Flemming of Chatterly."

The two men exchanged nods, prompting further nods of acknowledgement from the rest of the Lords.

"He was, in my long memory, the most jovial of all Lord Speakers, and the times when he would chastise a member of the house, without the other party noticing it until later that day, would sorely be missed."

He then slipped a knowing glance towards one of the Lords in the eastern benches. The man, well dressed, though rather portly, promptly gave off a timid chuckle, inviting the laughter of the other members all around.

Duke Hemmingsworth... we were quite relieved that he was made Lord Speaker. Unlike his competition, Duke Saunders, he isn't a partisan demagogue. Though, being a cousin of the King, he is solidly within the ranks of the royalists, a serious man like him is not so likely to abuse his position to further his political goals.

Next, the Lord Speaker proceeded to give an outline of the subjects under discussion and which Lords had been given special privilege of speech in relation to them.

The attention of the house first turned to the eastern benches.

First to speak was Duke Saunders of Ealdshire, the very man who received the rather mischievous jab just now.

He made sure to tuck in his significant belly as he stood up and began, "Thank you, Lord Speaker. I too wish to share my particular well wishes to the outgoing speaker, my close friend, the Duke of Chatterly. Though we had often come to blows in this very house, I like to believe it was a constructive sort of brawl; one which enlightened our members on both sides of the house."

He was met with a few quiet nods, mostly from the Lords of the eastern benches.

Charlotte, however, was not impressed.

All your rows ever accomplished was to set the house's itinerary back a few years...

"Now," he continued, "I wish to get down to the first issue at hand. Hardly a few months ago, many members of this prestigious house would have been present at the great summoning ritual. There, we summoned the great hope of Terra Nova, the Legendary Heroine. And many of you will be familiar with her great deeds. In a display of, appropriately, legendary prowess, she managed to save Ealdton in its time of crisis."

Of course we would; not only is it the hottest rumor in the Kingdom, you never miss the opportunity to talk about it, yourself.

"But that, in fact, is not all. It has come to my attention that, in the short time between then and now, she had already accomplished another great deed."

Her eyes sharpened.

With a gleeful nod, as though he were talking about himself, he then said, "It seems that the heroine had also saved a village from the oppressive yoke of the monsters living in a nearby dungeon!"

Such a thing happened...? Our heroine seems to be rather proactive. It would be advantageous to bring someone like that to our side.

"And so, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to welcome to the House of Lords, the Lord Heroine, Baroness Sylphia!"

Her hairs stood on end when, out of the blue, the little girl that she had been observing all morning, stood up and faced the house.

Tha- that was-!?

It was not just her. Plenty of other Lords reacted in astonishment when they saw this child, not possibly any older than 12 years, introduced as the Heroine of Londinium.

She glanced at the gentleman beside him, already halfway into lifting his hands for an applause. When he told me that she looked like a child... I  didn't expect that he meant it literally!

And so, both sides of the house gave a warm welcome to the heroine's debut in noble society.

Even while she joined the others in applause, Charlotte could not but feel a sense of foreboding at the back of her head. It was a strange mix of outward joy and inward anxiety. A pressure wrapped around her chest, at first weak, but as she tried to find the source of her anxiety, it only grew and grew. And soon enough, she had lost herself in thought.

Wait a moment, we still don't know what their purpose was in bringing the heroine into the House of Lords. Such a thing is unprecedented, not to mention unnecessary, in the point of view of the heroine. What greater title could one have than Legendary Hero? And yet this child-like heroine accepted the title of Baroness...?

Something is afoot.

I am certain of it.

So consumed was she in her own thoughts, that she completely missed the Lord Heroine's introductory speech, only ever noting the faint twinkle of wind chimes as the little girl's voice rang dimly in her ear.

And the next thing she knew, the girl had taken her seat.

Once the noise had finally subsided, the house moved on to the next speaker.

"His Grace, Duke Velosa of Castell," the Duke Hemmingsworth called.

Adjusting the collar on his silk shirt, he took a few moments to get comfortable in the gaze of all the lords of the house.

"Thank you, Lord Speaker," said the man with a handlebar moustache, "three summers ago, the grand campaign of the northwestern badlands began. A blight upon the world; a scar left by the past cataclysm - it had always been a source of grief and loss for thousands of frontiersmen and women. Monsters roamed without purpose, reverting into something akin to dangerous animals. But that, I am happy to say, has come to an end."

His words were immediately met with approving nods even before he had finished speaking, much to Charlotte's satisfaction.

Good, good. It's turning out just as I had hoped. Duke Velosa is a well-respected member of the house, not only because of his position as the steward of the semi-independent Duchy of Castell, but also the fact that he is, at the same time, the head of a powerful mage clan, rivalling that of the Ingram and Severus houses.

"It is my privilege to honor the hero of that campaign - the man who spearheaded the subjugation of the newly christened 'Haverish Badlands', and who took direct command for all three years of its duration. Esteemed colleagues, most honorable lords, please welcome my long-standing friend, the Right Honorable Lord Christoff of Morterdale."

And with a tap of his cane, the gentleman in the slick white suit stood up. He faced his colleagues with a fresh smile and said, "First, I would like to thank my most honorable friend for such a flattering introduction-" he then slipped a glance at the heroine and quipped, "-indeed, to be called a hero in the presence of the Legendary Heroine herself, is an honor that, I believe, anyone would find themselves reluctant to accept."

A few audible chuckles burst out from both sides of the house. Even the girl herself seemed to stifle a chuckle from his statement.

Count Christoff then proceeded with his speech, thanking the Lords who supported him throughout the campaign. As always, he delivered himself with a humble, yet dignified, elegance, weaving his words to match the tone of his voice, creting a soothing sense of authority, almost fatherly in quality.

After his speech, the lords, not only on the western side, but on the east as well, expressed their approval with a lively applause.

As he sat down, Charlotte placed her palm over his hand and said, "Well done, my dear."

In response, he turned his palm over, bringing their hands together.

And for him, she drew out her sweetest smile.

Next, the Lord Speaker took the stage once more. "Since the honorable Lord Christoff, and Lord Velosa before him, has conveniently introduced the next topic of this house, let us get right down to it."

For the first time in the whole congress, he held his back straight up his seat. His eyes swivelled towards either side of the house though his head remained perfectly still.

And after a short pause, the house, too, grew silent.

This man, known to be the second most powerful in all the Kingdom, had a presence that rivaled that of the King.

And finally, he continued, "As Lord Speaker, it is my duty and privilege to present to the house, the Royal Award of Fiefdom."

Charlotte's heart raced.

This is the moment everyone has been waiting for.

Ever since the passing of Lady Farleigh, and the scandals that wracked their entire family, their fief of Dellwick has been up for grabs.

It's the reason my dear resolved to finish the campaign so quickly in these past few months. Even when we initially planned for it to continue for several more years.

It's almost a shame to bid farewell to the constant income coming from the king's own war chest... But it's no matter. To improve our chances of inheriting Dellwick, a notable accomplishment was necessary. Indeed - an accomplishment that could not be ignored.

A wily smirk formed on her lips.

We even arranged for the announcement to be made in this very congress!

Ah, it's flawless. With this, there should be no doubt as to who is most worthy to receive the new fief!

With clear tone and calm demeanor, the Lord Speaker added, "With the assent of His Royal Highness, I now present the following fiefs to their new Lords."

Fiefs...? Did he say 'fiefs'? There is more than one? I had not heard of any other lords losing their fiefs...

His next words were like a spike driven through her chest:

"First, the newly formed county of Haverish."

Her eyes widened.

Ha... Haverish...? No, this can't... but this follow up...! It can't be. It just can't be!

"For displaying outstanding skill and valor in the subjugation of the Northwestern Badlands, the Royal Court hereby presents the Right Honorable Lord Christoff of Morterdale, the entire county of Haverish, in fief."

It took all her willpower just to keep her face from contorting.

"The entire county!?" one of the lords from the eastern benches blurted out.

"All of the new territory!?" said another.

"That is just-"

Absurd! Just say it! Loudly!

Not only is the entire territory empty, it is also huge! It's far larger than the entire capital province! Normally, it would be split up first, and be awarded piecemeal later, correct!?

Duke Hemmingsworth swung his gavel down and raised his voice, "Order, order!"

Tsk. Despite the noise, no one is offering a formal challenge... at this point, it's going to come through! I have no choice. That cannot be allowed to happen!

Charlotte raised her hand and said, "Point of information, Lord Speaker."

"Taken, Lady Adventine of Windham."

"Thank you, Lord Speaker." She stood up, her hair bobbing against gravity as she adopted a dignified posture. "Is it not standard practice, with regard to new territory that it be first subdivided into smaller regions before those smaller chunks are awarded as fief? Though this Lady thinks that the award is honorable and just, considering the scale of the accomplishment - there might be those who believe it incongruent to the correct procedure and protest the seeming haste."

With that, she sat down to the approval of many of the Lords on both benches. As she sat down, she was met with a smile for her husband.

"Thank you, dear," he said, "allow me to take advantage of the opportunity you presented me."

Her cheeks flushed red, Charlotte smiled and said, "Of course, my dear."

Raising his hand, Count Christoff was given a moment to speak.

"My Lords, dear colleagues, I understand that the award is attracting controversy within the house. First of all, I wish to relay my utmost gratitude to the royal court. To be presented with all of Haverish is an unparalleled honor. However, given the reaction of our colleagues on the eastern benches, it might be more prudent to allow the new territory to go through the correct annexation procedure before it is handed out as fief." His eyes sharpened. "As such, I would be open to accepting a different award in its place."

Charlotte smirked.

For instance, Dellwick.

"Thank you, Lord Christoff. Your suggestion shall be taken into consideration."

Next, a man on the eastern benches raised his hand.

"Lord Saunders of Ealdshire."

Charlotte clenched her teeth.

The schemer himself takes the stage...

"Thank you, Lord Speaker." His northern accent came through very clearly, forcing the other lords to pay close attention, otherwise they could not have understood what he was saying. "Indeed. While normally, such a territory would be first subdivided into townships and villages, as part of a development plan, the Royal Court, myself included, of course, saw the honorable Lord accomplish something of such a scale - we must remember, Lord Christoff did not just win a single battle or two. Through the course of three years, he managed to turn a monster-infested wasteland into an open space for new villages, new farms and new cities! And he did it with very little outside help. Esteemed colleagues, I think you must agree. There really isn't any other conclusion to be reached. One way or the other, Haverish itself is the only award fitting the scale of that accomplishment. And to waste, what? Two more years until the next congress? Is not really necessary when we have already arrived at a foregone conclusion."

At the end of his speech, many of the Lords who initially joined Charlotte in opposition to the award was already nodding in approval to the award.

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Cursed schemer! So he was the one behind it after all! He planned all of this from the very beginning!? Using our own strength against us...!? How... how mortifying...!

Duke Hemmingsworth himself then spoke up, adding, "I, too, deemed the honorable Lord's accomplishment as too great to merely be awarded with a single part of his spoils. Especially when it came to my understanding that the Lord's Azure Knights were critical in the success of the campaign." He then turned his gaze towards the Count. "I believed that he might wish to reward his finest men with something more significant than coin. As such, here is land aplenty. That's why, I approved this award."

Even the Lord Speaker!? Tsk. He is known to care for his soldiers deeply, after all...

Beset on all sides, even the stout-hearted Charlotte waned against such masterful counterstroke.

This is bad... it will be rude to refuse this honor and then try to bargain for Dellwick later... but if my dear accepts it...

Despite the overwhelming pressure upon him, Christoff's face showed few signs of anxiety. Keeping his calm and calculated demeanor, he lifted his face and announced his decision, "Know that I am truly humbled by this honor, my Lords. I hereby accept the county of Haverish in fief..."

There was a palpable weight in his voice; a hesitation, but he nonetheless wrung those words out of his lips as plainly as he could.

It is over.

With a forlorn voice, she whispered to him, "My dear..."

I'm sorry...

As he sat down, he wrapped his fingers around her hand, saying, "It's fine. One should not push too hard, lest he falls flat and the rock rolls away."

Her eyes flickered.

That if we continue insisting on Dellwick... we might end up losing the right to any fief at all... that is certainly a possible scenario...

"Let us observe how things will unfold. Perhaps there could be opportunity in crisis."

The combination of his calm wisdom and smiling glance eased her weary heart. Breathing slowly both in and out, she relieved herself of the weight accumulated upon her shoulders. And, with a smile of her own, she said, "Of course, my dear."

With the back and forth coming to an end, the King, too, gave his approval, in the form of a nod.

"Very well," the Lord Speaker declared, "Let it be known that henceforth, the county of Haverish is held in exclusive fief, inviolable under the precept of His Highness, King George, our King, by Lord Christoff of Morterdale."

One by one, the lords gave their unanimous recognition with a resounding 'hear, hear.'

An empty patch of land... no matter how large it is, its value could not possibly exceed that of Dellwick. It would take many generations before something is made out of it, if at all.

But even that is better than nothing... is what he wished to tell me?

And so, the gentleman sat, collected as ever, showered by applause, defeated but not beaten.

Perhaps...

Afterwards the Lord Speaker once more turned his attention to the wider hall. "Moving on. Most members of the house are aware of the passing of the much beloved Lady Farleigh, several months past. In the intervening time, the fief was returned to the direct rule of His Majesty, but the time has come to bestow it once more in fief."

Many of the Lords immediately perked up the moment his words reached their ears. The couple, however, was not impressed. Christoff maintained an expression of disdain so subtle that only Charlotte was able to make it out, given years of observing his mannerisms. Meanwhile, Charlotte fostered within her a cold, simmering rage.

Tsk. Now that my dear is out of the running, to whom could Dellwick possibly go to? Perhaps that bloated schemer himself...

"And so," said the Duke Hemmingsworth, "for valorous service under insurmountable odds. The Royal Court hereby presents the village of Dellwick-"

She held her breath in anticipation.

"-to the Right Honorable Lady Sylphia, the Lord Heroine."

Charlotte's heart fell.

Murmurs quickly spread around the hall in light of the award.

"The heroine...?"

"Well, she is the only one who does not hold any fief in her name..."

"But so soon? And she was just introduced to the house in this very session."

"Those accomplishments, though..."

The heroine... this... this little girl...?

Her mind blanked out. It took her a good few moments to completely take in what had just happened.

What!? Why would the heroine be given a fief!? That is beyond absurd! Just what is going on in this congress!? It has just been one absurdity after the other!

Immediately, a Lord from the western benches reached his hand up and was soon called.

"At the risk of coming off as rude," he said, "which, I assure all members that I mean no such disrespect, may I ask the Royal Court, why it was deemed prudent to award Dellwick to the heroine? I understand that the Right Honorable Lady has distinguished herself in great acts of heroism, being, of course, the Legendary Hero, but I simply fail to see why it is necessary that she be rewarded with a fief of all things. The Kingdom does, after all, have awards specifically for acts of valor, up to the most prestigious award of all - the Grand Order. Is it not therefore more prudent to bestow that instead?"

That's true. Everything about this award is absurd. Nine chances out of ten, that schemer is behind all of this.

With a chorus of approval from the various Lords of the house, not only on the west benches also by some on the opposite side, the Lord Speaker replied, "Thank you for that point of information, Lord Campbell of Southmarch. It is understandable that our colleagues, ever watchful, would question this decision. However, I wish to assure you all that this decision was not made lightly. In fact, I am at liberty to divulge that this decision was made with direct consultation with the King and his advisors."

The myriad voices in the hall quickly vanished as both sides tuned in to the mention of their monarch.

Then, once the attention of the entire house was centered upon him, the King himself spoke up. "Perhaps it is better if the heroine herself explained why she was awarded the fief."

Like a well-orchestrated puppet show, the heads all turned towards the little girl sat at the front bench of the eastern side.

"Geh-" With a wince, heroine looked around to the eyes all pointed her way.

Though at first hesitant, she soon leapt off her seat and stood up. Even while fully erect, her head did not even pass the height of her fellows sitting right beside her.

The heroine... No matter how I look at it, she's nothing more than a child...

"U-um... yes," she said, with a palpable tremble in her voice, "thank you. Your Highness..."

Though she came off from an uneasy start, she quickly became more comfortable addressing the house. Her tiny, wisp-like voice filled the hall with a completely different atmosphere than usual. The house had, after all, for most of its history, hosted only the well-aged voices of noble men and women belonging to the King's peerage. And here, now, is a small child, calling herself a peer among her elders.

And so, she continued, "When I was offered Dellwick, I was told this: The King wished to see what I could do with it, using my powers."

Powers...?

A wave of bewilderment spread around the house.

What powers does she have anyway?

"Ah." She covered her mouth. "I haven't introduced myself properly, have I? I forgot to mention it earlier, too. In that case, once more." She gave a curtsy and then said, "My name is Sylphia. My special power is..."

is...?

"Mind Control."

The girl said this with a complete, uncanny innocence in her tone that it was all the more unnerving when taken altogether.

Charlotte swallowed her breath.

A heavy atmosphere choked out all voices in the hall.

Each one was speechless, but at the same time itching to say a word.

And in the end, only silence remained.

Silence, and the girl's voice, "Because I've yet to master it, the King wishes me to develop that power in practice - by managing Dellwick."

She is going to manage Dellwick... via Mind control...? Just what is the extent of her power? Are we currently under her spell? I cannot see anyone using their magic, but what if hers is fundamentally different from ours...? I want to ask but... now is not the correct time...

Charlotte then felt a tug on her hand. Instinctively, she tilted her body towards her husband, bringing her ear closer to his mouth.

"Perhaps," whispered Christoff, "it is not only beneficial to bring the heroine to our side. It is mandatory."

She replied with sharp eyes, "Indeed..."

The heroine's revelation utterly silenced all opposition to the award.

The congress continued with politics as usual after the enormous bombshell of the Sylphia's introduction.

Some Lord, on her side of the hall, would bring up more 'damning' evidence of Raffalian aggression, and pointing to border skirmishes long fought and resolved to pursue a more confrontational relationship with the Kingdom's northern neighbor. Meanwhile, someone else, usually on the other side of the room, would sue for rationality, in that antagonizing a militarily superior neighbor would be suicidal - and, after calling for the said Lords to increase military recruitment to back up their hawkish claims, the discussion would end there without any resolution either way.

The little girl, completely unaware of anything anyone was saying could only look on in oblivion, and nod when the person beside her was nodding, and clap whenever the person in front of her was clapping.

Nevertheless, after several hours of stuffy, rigid debating, the little girl was finally reunited with her companion waiting outside in full regalia.

A lively vivace of the trio of violins lent a cheerful cadence to the banquet.

The tables were filled with all manner of fine food. From roasts to salads, each delicacy was sourced from all corners of the Kingdom. Not even at the King's own castle were such food available. Naturally, this lent a certain glee in the air.

But even in that environment, one pair was particularly lively.

"Sylphie! Sylphie! Look, here," said Rika, as she pointed towards one of the plates arranged at the tables around them, "this looks delicious!"

Though her hair had grown out to her upper neck, it was still far shorter than she usually wore. It was, however, now within the realm of 'not bald', thus she no longer felt embarrassed being in public.

But it wasn't only that the last visible scar from their ordeal was finally healing, her unrestrained smile was what truly lit the warmth in Sylphia's chest.

"Oh yeah, that does look good!" the little girl replied with a grin.

It's been a while since Rika unwound like this... in the castle, she's always focused on her training with Sir Dorlan that she hardly came by to play.

I felt like she was avoiding me...

Like she's still blaming herself for what happened in the dungeon... Her dedication is admirable, but I wonder if she's pushing herself too hard?

She sighed.

But, well, that's why things like this are important too! I was worried her hair wouldn't grow out enough before today and she'd refuse to go out, but I'm glad it worked out.

Following behind her knight, hand-in-hand, a warm smile surfaced on her lips, one which she would quickly erase whenever Rika turned around.

Short hair Rika is still really cute... hm, hm. I guess it's true. The boyish look does accentuate girlishness.

Hmm.... She rubbed her chin. Wonderful.

Come to think of it, I have a personal dress maker now! Maybe I can have her make boyish clothes for Rika...

In a snap, Sylphia's imagination kicked into overdrive.

Shorts are a staple, of course. Maybe a tank top? Like the one Ceressa wore... hmm... exposed belly... and then a jacket! Good... good... uhehe... uhehehehehe!

Her hands wiped away the drool collecting at the corner of her mouth.

"Hm?" Rika cocked her head sideways.

Cute!

But as soon Sylphia arrived at her table, Rika was ushered away by a servant.

"E-eh?" confused, Rika followed hesitantly as she was pulled by the arm, "where are we going?"

"Rika?" Sylphia stood up.

The man answered with a thick accent on his r's, "Servants are not allowed to eat here. Please allow me to escort you to servants tables."

"Ah..." the redhead scratched the back of her neck and said, "ehehe, okay."

"Eh? Rika? Why are you-" Sylphia protested, "Wait, what do you mean she can't eat here? She's my guest!"

The man apologetically explained, "A-all due respect, madame, it is the rules... servants are to eat at a different area..."

"Huh!?" She was getting annoyed and her expression showed it.

As if in reflex, Rika jumped in between them and calmed her down.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Sylphie! It's okay."

"But-" Even as she pouted, Rika reached her hand over her head and gave her a light pat.

"Can't help it, right? There's no need to make a fuss. I'll see you later, so enjoy yourself, okay?"

Though she moaned disapprovingly at first, Rika voluntarily excusing herself ended the issue right there.

And as she watched her back slip further and further into the distance, she mumbled to herself, "Rika isn't a servant... she's my friend...!"

Stupid rules!

With Rika long gone, she had no choice but to return to her seat and sigh.

How am I gonna have fun with all these people I don't know...?

Soon after all the Lords were sat, servants poured out of the kitchen, to pour each one their preferred drinks. Food was served one after the other and one could even ask for seconds, or, in Rika's case, thirds. The portions were, after all, meant for the aristocracy, and thus, quite small.

Fortunately for her, Sylphia had a view of the table where Rika sat with a few others, mostly men - likely guards, too. And from the looks of it, they were getting along quite well. She watched her happily sending plates back as fast as they could come, and they would laugh about it.

She looks like she's having fun...

"Nnnggh..." she whimpered, "how does she get along with people so easy...?"

Meanwhile, she shared her table with a couple of other Lords. And a couple, they were. The wife greeted her the moment they sat down. Her curled, dark purple hair hung down her back. She appeared intent not to lean on the backrest, lest the curls be smashed in between. As a side-effect, though perhaps also intended, she maintained a straight, dignified posture at all times, even while she engaged the little girl in light conversation.

Sylphia wasn't used to conversing with these nobles. Till now, most of her interactions with the nobility consisted of being talked down to by the King, or praised by others for simply being the heroine. It was the first time she was approached as an equal. Though it proved to be a refreshing change of pace, she also felt on-guard, careful with her words, as her ability to mimic their way of speaking took a toll on her endurance. And she had been at it since the beginning of the congress.

Ugh... I can't even relax during this dinner.

Soon enough, she began to envy Rika, who, due to her inferior position, attracted no one's attention, not even the bodyguards of the other Lords, allowing her to stuff her mouth without interruption.

"Oh, you must tell us about yourself," said the woman who introduced herself as Countess Charlotte Adventine, "it is a rare occasion that one gets to speak so intimately with the dear heroine."

Sylphia, unsure of how what to say, replied with uneasy laughter. She then asked, "Um, so, what do you like to know about?"

"For instance, I've heard that the Legendary Heroes were beings summoned from another world. Is this true?"

"A-ah, yeah... I'm from uh, another world..." Her smiled turned crooked as she muttered those words.

Urk... That sounded as if I'm from Mars or something...

"Oh, how intriguing! Do tell us more about where you came from!"

"Ah... er, well... it's... pretty similar to this one. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and people are people. Except there aren't things like monsters, or magic, or even demon kings."

Describing the world she left behind caused her long-forgotten sense of nostalgia to resurface.

How long has it been since I left my world...?

Memories became hazy.

Even the faces of the people she loved had faded in time.

Charlotte rested her chin on the back of her intertwined hands. "A world where the demon king doesn't exist? That sounds like paradise."

"Ah, hahaha. No, far from it."

"Isn't it?" The woman giggled.

Contrary to her expectation, Sylphia shared a lengthy conversation with the woman all throughout the banquet. It started out rough, but eventually, she felt comfortable speaking with her. The woman's gentle manner left a motherly impression. It disarmed her, relaxing her normally cautious attitude, bordering on paranoia. They talked about various topics, with Sylphia asking her more about the world and the Kingdom in general, while telling her the tidbits she knew about her powers. Meanwhile, the husband merely exchanged smiles with her whenever their eyes met, though he was otherwise occupied with mingling with the nobility coming to visit him at their table.

As the banquet progressed, the nobles from other tables began roaming around, often finding themselves at Sylphia's table to make her acquaintance. She met more face and names than she could remember, and at some point had to give up. In any case, most of them seemed to have but a shallow interest with her. The men just wanted to associate themselves with 'The Heroine', and the women just wanted to fawn over how cute she was.

Well that's all fine and good, but...

Occasionally she would feel a gaze over her shoulder. Whenever she turned to look, she would catch the woman beside the King staring at her. And when their eyes met, the woman would give a little wave, then she would wave back.

But the woman never approached her.

She cocked her. Hmm... that was...

"The Crown Princess," said the wife, "have you met her, Lady Sylphia?"

"Ahh... no, I mean, not personally."

"No? Yet she seems quite fond of you."

"R-really...?"

Should I go and greet her, then?

But between constant rotation of visitors, her conversation with the lady at her table, and her grumbling stomach, the night ended without her ever going.

Alas, as dusk yawned over the horizon, the two finally ran out of topics to discuss.

The sun had long set.

It was time to go home.

As they parted, Charlotte took Sylphia's hand and said, "Thank you for indulging me today, Lady Sylphia. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Thank you too, Lady Charlotte, it was nice to meet you!" The little girl gave her a sweet smile.

The noble lady then bent forwards, weaved her hair behind her ears, and whispered, "Dear, I'm sure it must be difficult for a young girl like yourself to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. If there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask." Her thumb, wrapped beneath a soft, silken glove stroked back and forth upon the girl's hand. "If you ever find yourself near Windham, know that you are welcome in my residence anytime."

Sylphia's eyes widened. "A- th-thank you..."

"You are welcome in Morterdale too-" She turned cheerfully to her husband. "-right dear?"

"Of course," Christoff said with a cool baritone, "you are welcome anytime, Lady Sylphia."

Thus, the couples went their separate ways.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Charlotte finally relaxed herself in the soft, leather seat of her carriage. She opened the window and let the cool, evening breeze sweep against her pink blushed cheeks.

"Well done, my dear," said Christoff, "you must be tired."

She glanced at him, and with a smirk, said, "Indeed..."

"So, what do you think of our little heroine?"

She snickered. "As expected. She's a naive, young girl, but one holding a terrifying power."

"Hm."

"In short, it should be easy to manipulate her into doing our bidding."

For the first time all day, he spread his arms out and crossed his legs. All at once, his dignified veneer faded away and the Gerard Christoff only Charlotte knew resurfaced. A malevolent grin spread on his lips as he said, "Losing Dellwick was a setback, but I think I now have an idea on how to turn things around. And it is all thanks to you, my dear. Come."

She giggled. Then, timing her steps with the movement of the carriage, she stood up and joined her husband on the other side. "It's my pleasure, dear," she whispered with a sultry tone, "you know I'm rather fond of children."

Draping his arm over her shoulder, he said, as he lowered his head onto hers, "I know. But nonetheless..." His other hand lightly skimmed the surface of Charlotte's thigh, sheepishly making its way further up. "...I wish to congratulate you."

Her heart raced.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she tucked her head into her husband's shoulder and, with a breathless voice, said,

"Very well."