“Hey, hey.” Risti nudged Dia in the ribs, and then turned to Farah. “How many times has the bartender said the word ‘regulations’? I just lost count.”

“One hundred and eighty-eight times,” Farah replied, stifling a yawn.

“If you’re going to ask Farah, why did you nudge me? I was on the verge of falling asleep,” Dia muttered. “Let me get a good rest, okay? Fighting is hard work.”

The sofa underneath her trembled as she tried to find a more comfortable position. Serenaded by the background noise that was the bartender’s droning, it didn’t take long before the comfortable drowsiness she was feeling earlier began to return, but before she could fall asleep, the bartender’s speech ended.

“Geh.”

“Ah, it’s over?” Risti got up from the sofa and glanced at Claud, who was talking animatedly with Lily. From what Dia could tell, he was asking about the Julan Barony and the ills it had perpetuated over the years, although she couldn’t quite tell what he intended to do with that information.

“Excellent.” Farah, whose greatsword had vanished into parts unknown, stretched her limbs. “Even though the good master brought up a lot of great ideas, I wish he could have done this in the morning, when I’m not yet sleepy. Took me all I had just to stay awake.”

“Well, you at least seemed used to it,” Dia muttered. “I never had to do this before.”

“To be fair, only the real Princess Dia would spend hours sitting and listening into the needs of her people. If her double were to be present too, wouldn’t there be an issue?” Risti asked.

Dia eyed Risti, and wondered why her intelligence gathering didn’t show that Princess Dia didn’t really concern herself with petty things like meetings and speeches.

It didn’t take long for her to come up with an answer — Risti was probably cherry-picking the good parts of her idol and ignoring the less-than-ideal reports. After all, from how Risti portrayed the princess of the Lustre Dukedom, an ignorant passer-by would assume Princess Dia to be an unparalleled beauty who boasts of wits, will, skill and a heart that showers all under the heavens with love. It was an ideal that Dia couldn’t ever hope to actually live up to — she was as lazy as the next person. And as for kindness…

She decided not to go there. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t really a kind person.

Just a pragmatic one.

Either way, it was clear that she wasn’t the kind of person Risti made her out to be, but it did feel somewhat nice to be worshipped in such a manner. Still, it came with its own fair share of pressure, one that Dia hadn’t expected to face at all.

The pressure from people who idolised her.

It was a kind of pressure she didn’t know how to react to — Dia knew that she couldn’t live up to their expectations. Yet, she felt bad whenever she heard Farah, Risti and Lily talk about the Princess Dia in their hearts — if, one day, they found out about her true identity…what would happen to them?

Dia got up from her sofa and walked over to a small table of drinks. The bartender had poured some out before his absurdly long speech on regulations, and these cups were beginning to look a bit pitiful for being ignored for so long.

She downed one cup, and the sour taste combined with her worries made her let out a heavy sigh.

“Why the long face?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s you, Claud.” Dia picked up another cup, and then chugged it. The bartender had shown some conscience — the drinks here weren’t as…indescribable as whatever he served in Triple-D.

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Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Claud pick up a cup of his own. Sniffing at it experimentally, he held it up to eye-level, before taking a cautious sip.

“What’s wrong?” Dia asked. “You shouldn’t be worried about poison, right?”

“Just because I have a Pendant of Poison Immunity doesn’t mean that I should drink whatever I like,” Claud replied. “You only get ten chances a day. If you use them all up, that’s it. Besides, for the master’s case, I’m not really thinking about poison. I’m thinking about the kinds of piss he’s mixing inside.”

Dia’s stomach did a backflip. “Not literally, I hope.”

“Huh? Oh, he doesn’t use actual piss. But it might be better if he did. His alcohol is so pure that more than fifteen people have died from drinking it,” Claud replied. “The worst of it all is that his drinks don’t really taste all that great either. In fact, the lower the alcohol, the better it tastes when it comes to his drink.”

Dia thought back to the reactions the others had when they tried his drinks for the first time, and then nodded. “He should be a normal drinks vendor.”

“All men have a dream,” Claud replied. “It’s just unfortunate that he’s horrible at his. Anyway, what’s with that super long sigh of yours? Even hearing it makes me sad.”

Taking a long, measured gaze at Claud, Dia swirled the contents of her third cup and let out another sigh. “How do I put it…I just feel a bit pressured. You know, to live up to my reputation and everything. How would you react if people were to ascribe false praise onto you, and you’re in earshot?”

Claud’s eyes lit up for some reason. “You too? Moons! I’ve finally found a kindred spirit!”

He trembled for a few seconds, before steeling his face properly. “My apologies. It’s just that I was overcome with emotion. Ahem. Anyway, I know how it feels too, but there’s really nothing you can do about it.”

“Really?” Dia asked.

“Trust me. I believe that you should live for yourself, with the values of only your own choosing,” Claud replied.

“Did that work for you?” Dia asked.

Claud’s face cramped. “Yes…is what I really want to say. Unfortunately, I have long felt that the…false reputation heaped upon me is beyond that of a normal person’s comprehension.”

“Is that why you’ve been living a low-profile life?” Dia asked, curious. It was the first Claud had actually opened up about himself — the man was a mysterious one, who didn’t like to talk about himself much — so she was perfectly happy to listen on. It was like reading a good novel, although she had a feeling that her favourite novel, if it was sentient, might be a tad peeved if it ever knew that Dia was comparing Claud with it.

“You…could say that.” Claud’s face was expressionless, but Dia could tell that he was still hiding a lot of things.

She chuckled in response. Given that they had forged a bond, there would be time for Dia to figure Claud out. Besides, Risti was someone who had lots of information-related skills. If Dia ever found herself unbearably curious, she could approach Risti for some help, and that would be it.

“Uh, Dia?” Claud frowned. “I still can’t get used to this new term of address. I’ve been calling you Isolde for so long that suddenly asking me to use the name of the person you’re protecting is…”

“Just call me whatever you like,” Dia replied.

“I have to respect your mission, though. Please forgive me if I make any little slip-ups like that one.” Claud took another sip from the cup, and grimaced. “How bracing.”

The bartender walked up and slapped his back. “What a pansy.”

“Done with your final instructions already, master?”

“C’mon,” the bartender replied. “Just call me Schwarz. We’re not in the bar now.”

“Fine, fine. The lack of apple juice is disturbing, however. Poor service. Thumbs down.” Claud yawned. “Right, I’m heading to Julan in a few days’ time. I heard that there’s some uh, very suitable business opportunities there. Can you hold the fort here?”

“Immediately after we established the Moon Lords? Why are you a founding member again?”

“Don’t worry,” Claud replied, “I’ll share my profits.”

“What are you planning to do?” Dia asked, curious. “You seem certain that it’s going to be a profitable venture.”

“Time-sensitive high efficacy fetterless trading,” Claud promptly replied.

“Time—what?”

“Don’t worry about it, Dia.” He winked. “I’ll be back with lots of resources once it’s over. Just sit tight and count the money flowing in here for the next month or two.”

“How are you that confident?” Dia shook her head and turned to the bartender, whose name she had finally learnt. “So, uh…Schwarz.”

Schwarz beamed. “Yes?”

“What should the others and I do? I mean, everyone has their own work, but we haven’t received anything,” Dia replied.

“As I understand it, you guys have your own things you want to carry out in an organisation like this, right?” Schwarz took out a bottle and drank from it. “I’ll just deal with the profits. You guys do what you want, and I’ll offer support. In turn, the four of you just need to look really menacing. Show off some power or something once in a while.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well, what else do you want?”

Dia paused. “That’s actually a good question…”