Chapter 457: A Kingdom Debtless

Father and Mother wore looks of shock.It was nothing compared to my own.

Indeed, something ... something was wrong … ! 

I could feel it! It was as obvious as the lack of tomatoes beneath the table! 

Why, for only my carrot confit to be steadily building up was already without precedent … and yet for my father to be disposing of his salad via his stomach was a betrayal of all that I knew! 

That was akin to a nobleman using a napkin as anything other than a fashion accessory!

I tightly clenched my fists.

Yes … I already knew that returning home would mean more than idly rolling in my orchard. 

It would mean spending 72 hours submerged in the bathtub and then idly rolling. 

A gruelling ordeal. Not for me, but for the maids. They were tasked with continually holding up my books and flipping the pages while pretending not to notice any of the gleaming titles. 

I needed their arms as sturdy as possible–something not helped by them tactfully shuffling the long way around the table while carrying trays laden with the labour of three kitchens.

“Omnomnomnomnomnom~”

Sadly for Coppelia as she feigned disinterest towards the sudden weight in the air, the maids would soon be forced to take an even longer route as they went to fetch the guards. 

Or perhaps an exorcist. I’d yet to decide.

“… Juliette? Is, uh, something the matter?”

My father looked bewildered. As was only right.

After all … it shouldn’t have taken me this long to see the truth of it!

An inexcusable error. I’d simply assumed that a mage had muddled their minds, a passing siren had bewitched them or they’d drunk the highly suspect indigestion medicine sold by trolls. 

Each was an explanation for the highly unorthodox decisions they’d made.

But this.

This was something else.

“You!” I said, pointing at once before me. “Who are you and what have you done with my father?!”

“P-Pumpkin?”

I leaned over the latest plate of carrot confit one of the maids still wasn’t understanding I wouldn’t be eating, then turned my accusing finger at the bowls of butterhead salad. 

There were almost too many to choose from. A scandalous notion.

“This is the work of an imposter!” I declared. “No amount of magic or troll concoctions could ever incite my father to consume anything either green or leafy–not unless it was obscenely coated in the same camembert you’re apparently doing away with!” 

“R-Really now! I wouldn’t say my salads are obscenely coated! … At most, it’s only ever a slight garnish!”   

“Then you’re not only a charlatan, but a poor one as well! My father proudly champions his camembert without any thought for time, place or diplomatic consequences! I will not accept you opportunistically discarding them! Indeed, his cherished creations might be so odorous that even the mice file complaints, but it’s a stench which symbolises the unbending hardiness of a king’s nose and his right to disregard all obligations to public safety!” 

The imposter recoiled as if jabbed in the stomach, doubtless realising his mistake. 

Even so, he sat up straight and coughed.

“Juliette,” he said with measured calm. “I, well, I believe you might have a slightly wrong idea. You see, I–”

Clink.

All of a sudden, Mother lowered her fork.

The noise was enough to cause every maid to fall still.

It was the precursor towards her most dreaded instrument. A scowl so bitter it was capable of sending a frost dragon in search of warmth.

I found myself tensing at once, knowing the faux pas in pointing at even an impression of my father.

Instead–

“I apologise, Juliette.”

She gently smiled.

My chair squeaked against the floor as I stepped back, hands clasped around my mouth in horror.

W-What was this … ?!

My mother, whose smile only appeared when Grandmother was complaining about her hip, was not wearing a look of chastisement, but rather one of sympathy … ! 

“This must be quite a shock to you,” she said with a quiet sigh. “Of course, had we known you were due to return today, we would have ensured a more familiar welcome. Even so, that is no excuse for our lack of preparation. It is, of course, completely natural that you’d feel stunned by so many changes.”

Her smile took on an even warmer hue as she nodded, patiently waiting for me to answer.

I turned to Coppelia instead.

“C-Coppelia! … What is this?! My mother … she is smiling! Is this an illusion or something even more foul? Is a puppeteer controlling her cheek muscles against her will?! Is there a lich nearby?!”

My loyal handmaiden looked up from her 12th serving of gratin de céleri et betterave.

She blinked several times, tilted her head in thought, then finally swallowed her food.

“Hmm … let’s see~! No weird miasma. No swirly eyes. No licking the walls. They’re not charmed, possessed or bewitched. There’s no magic. I think.”

“That’s impossible. My father is eating lettuce. I … I don’t know if his stomach is even capable of consuming something so foreign! This is highly–” 

Clink.

Once again, the sound of a fork pinged against a plate.

This time, however, my mother’s smile was aimed towards the maids.

“Please inform the kitchens that this will be enough. They may resume preparations for the evening.”

The maids obeyed at once.

Much to Coppelia’s dismay, they swept out with their trays still in their arms in orderly fashion. The last one offered a bow before closing the doors to the dining chamber. 

After a moment of silence, I was offered only the lightest of frowns. 

“Juliette. Please sit down.”

“I–”

“Please sit down.”

I pursed my lips.

The chair promptly scraped forwards as I returned to my seat.

“Good,” said Mother, her alarming smile returning in full. “Now, I understand you’ve had a tiring trip, but that's hardly an excuse to forget your manners–nor the encouragement you should be showing. Your father has, at last, taken the advice of the physician regarding his diet. It is praise you should be offering. Not ... bizarre accusations.” 

An awkward cough answered beside her, followed by the patting of a slightly round tummy.

“Sadly, I’m not quite as sprightly as I once was,” said Father. “A few too many mille-feuilles than strictly allowed. I have to start looking after my health these days. That even means eating a few of these dreadful things.” 

With deliberate hesitation, a cucumber slice was plucked from a salad bowl. 

The wince it caused was enough to suggest the vegetable had declared open rebellion.

Too little, too late. 

“That expression should be reserved for the muddy footprints on our carpets,” I said, my hands clasped tightly in my lap as I frowned. “Turning the Royal Villa into a tourist attraction is scarcely believable. To freely admire its halls, grandeur and the many childhood portraits that have failed to be hidden away is an honour few experience and absolutely nobody deserves.”

“Well, I’d hardly say there’s anything free about it. On the contrary, we’re making an excellent bit of extra crowns from it. It’s one of the many things we’re doing to better our income.”

Mother nodded as she brought a teacup to her lips. 

The fact the liquid didn’t freeze as she drank it did little to still my howling princess senses.

“Your father speaks truly. Of course, I understand you must have reservations about us opening up our home. But this isn’t a charitable endeavour. It’s a profitable one.”

“We are not merchants.” 

“No, but we are parents.” 

My father hummed in agreement.

“Your mother and I are concerned that a lack of crowns means an inability to ensure the best for you. Recent events have made it clear that more is always needed. Why, Clarise’s telescope melted just the other day. Again. And it appears that 62 inches of alchemical grade gold is somewhat more on the expensive side of things. We therefore wish to do our best to make sure you’re never found wanting. That is all.”

The angle of my frown lessened by 1 degree.

“... Really?”

“Really.” My father’s smile brightened. “Of course, it’s to help ensure our kingdom’s finances remain in a healthy state in the event of economic downturns as well. Fiscal responsibility is our duty, after all, as is maintaining proper capital reserves and–”

Pwam.

I slammed my palms against the table.

“Who are you?! Where are you keeping my father?!”

“J-Juliette … ?!”

“There are many reasons to ensure we’ve our own functional dragon hoard, but financial prudence has never been one of them … !”

I was answered by a look of exasperation. 

It was a more believable expression than what Mother wore. Far from wrinkling her nose at the faux pas of slamming my hands upon the dining table, she merely appeared regretful. 

“Then we’ve been remiss in our duties. But as regrettable as the past has been, this doesn’t suggest we cannot make changes for the future. That is why I’m selling off the orange porcelain.”

“But that … that is absurd! You’d sooner see the kingdom burn than see the orange porcelain gone! They’re so ugly that they exist only to vex Grandmother!”

“The plates served a useful purpose, yes. But none can be better than allowing me to think less about the expenses your grandmother manages to pile up. Each plate sold is another day of peace for the treasury.”

“But–” 

“There is no but. I appreciate that your royal tour of the kingdom has been an enlightening affair. But we haven’t been idle, either–especially given the costs of the new hires. Are you aware of what a troll’s salary demands are?”

I paused.

“He wants a nice door,” I said simply.

“Yes, he does. But he also wants weekly performance bonuses, overtime premiums, lunch stipends and an enormous quantity of varnish in a dedicated moisture proof storage warehouse. He costs more than an entire company of knights.”

“Yes, well, considering he speaks less than an entire company of knights, I’d say he’s well worth the cost.”

“I didn’t say he’s not. But that doesn’t change the fact he is very expensive.”

I was scandalised.

“Surely, funds are no longer an issue … ? Why, I’ve heard that a beautiful, unnamed heroine has recently been non-violently doing away with all the ruffians leeching the kingdom’s coffers!”

Father nodded, all the while braving a chunk of celery.

“There’s been an uptick in the prosperity of the realm, yes. But only after following quite a bit of chaos and many years of neglect, all of which needs funds for repair. From Trierport’s docks to Rietzlake’s streets, there are innumerable cracks to be filled.” 

“Much of it our fault. Your father and I have come to the conclusion that we've made some rather poor choices. However, given that our treasury officials are no longer weeping, we now have the opportunity to put hindsight into action. We need to be more efficient with what we have. But more importantly, we also need to set a better example as royalty.”

Wherever they’d placed the superglue they’d last used to bind me to my chair, I now needed it just to stop myself from toppling over.

After all, my mother and father were already the finest examples of royalty. 

They stood tall even as they sat down, lazed in a hammock or rolled around elbowing each other in a pile of cushions when they thought I wasn’t looking. They were beacons of pride. 

Moreover, they were also my parents, who despite all the weight of their responsibilities, had never once made a wrong decision.

… Except trying to marry me off to fix the kingdom’s debt.

Repeatedly.

Yes. That was most certainly a poor one.

“–After all, we have no wish to ever broach the subject of an unwanted betrothal again.” 

I blinked.

“Hm? ... Excuse me?”

“Marriage,” said Father, his smile fading as he wore a sombre expression. “While it has its uses, you are not some means to an end. To offer you like a piece of jewellery is not only unseemly, it is utterly undignified. By becoming financially stable, we hope never to consider such a shameful thing ever again. That, above all else, is what we desire.” 

Several moments passed.

And then–

“M-My!!!” I clapped my hands in delight. “Why didn’t you say so?! … Ah, to think that you’ve even thrown open the doors to our home just to ensure we’ve every scrap of coin at our disposal! Such a regal sacrifice is truly worthy of praise!!”

My dear parents, who I loved very deeply, offered their brightest smiles.

“Quite so,” said Mother, renowned for her empathy and warmth. “Although taxes have always been the traditional way to garner income, there is little reason not to leverage what we have to become self-sufficient as a family. This ensures we will always have a roof over our heads.”

I nodded repeatedly.

Indeed, being responsible for both mine and Coppelia’s finances, I understood well the need to have a healthy amount of crowns at all times. 

Without it, we’d be forced to sleep outside. And between the mice dancing in the ceiling or in the grass beside me, I could at least close my eyes to the former. 

For 5 minutes while insomnia took the rest.

“We’re delighted you understand,” said Father. “You clearly had to become quite savvy to manage your travels so well. In fact, perhaps you might even offer advice on how we might become even more efficient about things?”

“Why, I’d be delighted to! In … In fact, if we could do enough to put aside talk of marriage regarding Florella and Clarise as well, then that would be ideal!”

“Of course. The same wish applies for all of you. A political marriage may result in crowns, but rarely in joy. And nothing is more important in life.”

I nodded so fast my vision began to spin.

W-What a wonderful opportunity! 

Indeed, was everything I’d done not to secure our finances? The more income streams we had, the longer I could stay in my bedroom! 

Ohohohohoho!! 

Why, by merely working together as a family, I could finally rid myself of the greatest threat to my quality of life! No longer would the threat of Duke Hallingsey’s son and his fascination with pigeons be used to fuel my nightmares! I’d be saved at last!

“Frankly, we should have paid heed to urgency sooner,” said Mother with a shake of her head. “The suitors have been rather dire, haven’t they? Could you imagine if Duke Hallingsey’s son was allowed to marry into our family? We’d gain more in birdseeds than crowns.”

“M-My thoughts exactly! To marry a princess requires one of exceptional quality! They must be righteous, capable and able to stand above all others! … And also not insane!”

“Quite so. It’s a very fine list of candidates. But more importantly, one chosen by you. To offer any suggestions might be appropriate as royalty, but not as your parents.”

I clenched my fists in triumph beneath the table, all the while struggling to stop my smile from wiggling with joy. 

Why, to think that in the end, all my parents wished to do was prevent having to marry me off!

Clearly, my absence and manner of departure had left quite an impression on them!

True, I didn’t quite relish the idea of using our own home as a tourist attraction … but if it was for the sake of ensuring I didn’t need to be hauled away from my orchard while finally finishing A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, Vol. 3, then who was I to offer any complaints?

“Well, I believe we can speak of this matter another time,” said Father, his fork slowly heading towards the gratin. “Crowns is hardly the most appropriate of conversations for such a happy occasion. All you need to know is that you're home. You may rest at ease now.”

“Then I shall do just that. I cannot wait to tend to my orchard.”

“Indeed, and I’m certain your orchard cannot wait to be tended to. I believe the grass is rather long now. Do you intend to see to it this afternoon?”

“I do, yes.”

“Wonderful. In that case, I shall ask the stewards to have your books sent down. Can hardly have one without the other, can we?”

I tilted my head slightly, having always expertly hidden my books.

With bribery.

“Hm? … What books might you be referring to, Father?”

“Which one was it? Ah … A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, no? I assume you didn’t manage to read much on your travels. If so, no need to worry. You may take your time.”

My smile froze as my head blanked.

At once, my mother and father looked at each other in confusion, before blinking at me.

“Is something the matter?” asked Mother.

I slowly shook my head.

“... No, nothing at all. I’d be delighted if my books could be sent down.”

“Very well, then.” 

My father happily picked up a nearby bell. I stopped him by gently raising my hand.

“In fact ... would it be possible to ask for my favourite cake as well?”

A cursory sigh answered my request.

“So soon after a late lunch,” said Mother, the frown and wrinkles both only making minor cameos. “... But I rather suppose today is an acceptable one for indulgence. I shall have the kitchens informed.” 

“Thank you. I’m most grateful. Do you remember what my favourite cake is?”

“How can we forget?” said Father, as the image of a carrot cake floated across my mind. “I’ll have a delectable carrot cake prepared, just as you remember.”

I nodded and smiled.

Then, I stood up and casually drew Starlight Grace.

“[Spring Breeze].”