“With all due respect, Young Miss Amalia, leaving negotiation with the Free Federation of Polania in the hands of your esteemed father is a decision that I—a fellow borderland noble—cannot agree to.”

I resisted the urge to palm my forehead in frustration as I once again listened to the same argument used by the Count in my past life. In my memories, this Count was as insufferable as he is now and when I look back further in time through my memories as the Grand Princess of Gallia, I cannot recall a single noble who was as arrogant as this man was.

Seven hundred years ago, I was Olivia lu Vauquelin, heir to the Grand Principality of Gallia, one of many countries absorbed by the expansionism of the Empire of Nevaleia. Fortunately, my country joined peacefully when the current emperor at the time (who was both young and without a bride) demanded that I, the princess of Gallia, marry him or risk war. Of course, the sacrifice was quite simple especially considering how I was so taken with the emperor; his strong demeanour, amiable yet belligerent personality, and magnificent skills all worked together to steal my heart. (Perhaps my love for Lucius was a given as he shared many traits with my past life’s love.)

—Well, that embarrassing recollection out of the way, the point I’m making is that I cannot figure out where in the history of the glorious empire did it fall so far to have such a potbellied slouch in a noble position as high as a count. The single title that outranks the count is that of a duke of which I am a daughter of; while my esteemed father may be absent at the moment, he is the most powerful of the empire’s nine dukes. House Lehtinen has consistently produced excellent progeny with my father being the most gifted seen in three centuries (they were around when I was alive as Olivia; I’m pretty sure they were a native people of the ancient Duchy of Suomi destroyed by the empire).

“Count Antimion, I understand your apprehension. My father’s political acumen is indeed behind yours, however, it is imprudent to assume that that implies my father cannot perform negotiations at all. He is intelligent enough to pick up on subtleties other people—including you, I dare say—would miss.”

A vein slowly appeared in the count’s temple. “Oh? And whatever could you mean by that?”

“Surely the rumours of my acumen have reached your ears too, Outland Count.”

“You little—”

“Rise one more centimetre from your recliner and I will exercise my right to draw.” At that, the count froze, having begun to get up from his seat; in response, my hand was poised near my developing chest where I had stored my wand in a specially designed pocket for wand storage on the inside lining of the fabric of my dress. “Good. Count Antimion, I do greatly respect your capabilities, however, it is simply my most humble opinion that your skillset is rather ill-advised with dealing with the scheming wiles of the president and cabinet of the Free Federation.”

“…Fine.”

“You backed down fairly quickly,” I commented. Indeed, this was strange since it took more than this to convince the count in the previous timeline.

“In response to your earlier accusation, I have of course heard of the rumours surrounding the astute princess of Duke Lehtinen. If I may, I would like to use this opportunity to test the veracity of those rumours.”

“A fairly simple task. I shall ensure the Free Federation understands that allying against the empire is the worst decision they can make.” The count did not respond as he left the room; it seems that the ‘imperial glare’ (as Lucius liked to put it) has not lost its sharpness, seeing as the count had broken out in cold sweat upon facing my gaze.

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“You were wonderful, Milady!” Henrietta gushed. “You made that terrifying Outland Count flee with his tail between his legs.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Henrietta,” I chided. “That man is tenacious, to say the least. He will most certainly return with a vengeance to bite me in the neck if I do not keep him on a leash.”

“I’m sure that is exceedingly simple with your tremendous wisdom,” she asserted. “Surely, if you rely on the power of the mark—” She cut herself off when I glared sharply at her. “—I apologise, I spoke out of turn.”

“Haah…” I rubbed my temples with my hands as I mulled it over. “I do plan to tell my esteemed father about the Truthseeker brand sooner or later but please do not try convincing my father to use my power. I shall leave this house should that happen.”

“—!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you with me, Henrietta,” I smiled.

Backing away slightly, Henrietta broke out in cold sweat. Forcing a smile onto her face, she stammered, “You are too kind, Milady…”

“Ah—” I shyly buried my face into the sheets. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Henrietta, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No—” Henrietta quickly fixed a natural smile onto her face. “I was just truly terrified that you could make such a belligerent expression…”

“Curse you, Lucius, your habits have rubbed off on me…” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that for me, Milady?”

“It was nothing,” I replied, waving her away. “Oh, right!” I shot out of my sheets as I retrieved my wand once more. “I must go tend to Mother’s grave.”

“Allow me to accompany you, Milady.” Henrietta retrieved her own wand—one of alder—from her uniform and followed her charge out into the back garden, a truly spacious enclosure filled with nothing but the rarest and most beautiful efflorescence. I approached a plainly decorated marble mausoleum and chanted a spell; a formula appeared on the door of the edifice before twisting a few cycles and unlocking. The door slid open in front of me before I reverently marched inside.

I then proceeded to do my rounds within the mausoleum, carefully resupplying the massive formula placed on the mausoleum with more magical energy so as to keep it from deteriorating. After all, this was where my mother, the illustrious Duchess Lehtinen, was buried.

—Well, more accurately.

She was simply laid to rest within the confines of the mausoleum.

I went near the altar where a coffin was laid.

The lid was open.

There, as if she had just died hours ago, slept the body of my deceased mother. I reached into the coffin and stroked my mother’s cheek—of course, it was cold. “How do you do, Mother?” I whispered before choking quietly. Tears slowly began running down my face as I looked upon the body of my mother once more.

In the previous timeline, the Lehtinen mansion was the first major imperial construction sacked by the Truthseeker’s righteous army (albeit, all of this was despite the strict orders of the Truthseeker himself). Of course, they did not forget to incinerate the grandiose tomb of the imperial mage renowned as the Grand Spellstring who was none other than my mother, Sinikka Sylvia Lehtinen. I had to choke back my tears when I first heard the news and I figured that I too would soon be immolated (that fear was unfounded as while I did die, it was to a fatal stab).

I was shaken from my reverie by Henrietta’s voice, “Milady—? Are you alright?”

I forcibly staunched my tears as I confidently turned around and smiled, “No, it’s nothing. I’m just crying happy tears knowing that Mother’s grave has been so well-cared for. The pristine condition of Mother’s body evokes the sense that she had died moments prior; it’s as if she could awaken at any moment!” I returned my wand to the pocket inside my dress and ambled out of the mausoleum. Behind me, the marble doors sealed shut and the earlier formula reappeared atop its surface, swirling around once more as it automatically locked itself. I must say, House Lehtinen is quite something. The Empire’s greatest and most loyal family yet also well-versed in the ancient magics. That auto-locking spell… If memory serves, it should be a relic of the Black Republic of Pan-Magia. Truly, my great-great-grandfather did quite well at reviving such magics.

“Lady Amalia, I have received a message from the scouts at the edges of our territory that your father is arriving on broom.” Just after leaving the mausoleum, another one of the Lehtinen mansion’s servants approached me and reported about my father’s arrival.

“Ah, geez, I suppose I’ll have to greet Father,” I sighed. “He would not be happy if I did not do so.”

“Were it not for his incredible fixation over you, he would actually be a pretty decent man…” Henrietta commented.

“Well, to be completely fair to Father, I am his one and only daughter sired from the singular love of his life. It is only fair that he possesses that level of suffocating affection for me.” Ah, well, I mustn’t keep thinking about it; I’ll just go greet Father.