Chapter 5

5. Selection and Focus

“That’s really a lot. It’s an enormous number of books.”

“Enough to build a small library and still have leftovers. Since the ducal family donated them all to our domain, I’ll have to plan next year’s budget carefully.”

“We won’t have enough shelves, Mom.”

“Anything that doesn’t fit will just have to stay in boxes for now. I did order extra furniture, but they said it’ll take at least a week.”

The ducal estate in Pretium had sent us hundreds of books—all for Ars to study while staying at our house. He’d been too sick to attend school, but as the heir of the ducal family, he couldn’t simply skip an education; he’d mostly learned from private tutors and his parents, the Duke and Duchess themselves. Though honestly, even if he’d been as healthy as I am, it would have been hard for him to attend school openly for security reasons. He probably wouldn’t have even considered a prestigious academy until he was twelve or thirteen, when most kids could at least use basic attack magic.

Originally, the Duke and Duchess hadn’t planned to burden Ars with much studying while he was recovering in Herba. But as soon as he felt well enough, Ars had asked them to send books—he was tired of rereading the same ones at our place. Back at the ducal estate, there hadn’t been much he could do from bed besides read; reading had become both his way of studying and his hobby. Admittedly he only chose topics that actually interested him, but even so, his knowledge was impressive.

“Lady Rivi, are you sure you don’t want to use magic? You’re just carrying those.”

“My body’s in better shape right now for this. It’s actually more efficient.”

Of all times, the house was nearly empty, so even Sir Euden had been recruited to help. My brother and the mercenaries were off scouting in the mountains; someone in the domain had reported seeing an ogre, so every soldier and knight was out looking for it. That left us to handle the book-sorting ourselves. Ars was busy making space in both his room and mine for the new volumes.

Time was precious; I stacked two large wooden crates and hefted them. Even with Sir Euden helping, we’d need to make at least three or four trips between the basement teleport circle and the rooms upstairs.

“The things Master Ars studies are at the level of upper-year academy students. The higher the year, the more subjects there are, so of course there are more books.”

“Did you graduate from the academy too, Sir Euden?”

“I did. Heirs are usually sent there; building connections is important. But Herba doesn’t seem to have any higher-level schools. Lady Rivi, are you planning to study elsewhere eventually? Or maybe Baron Recter will hire a private tutor?”

“I’m fine for now. My father teaches me.”

“Really? Was the Baron a teacher? Your house is full of textbooks and materials they use at the academy.”

“He does have a teaching license, but he never worked as one. He was an apprentice researcher at the Tower before marrying Mom.”

“The Sage’s Tower? That one?”

“Yes.”

His eyes lit up with interest as I explained my parents’ story. My father’s mentor had been one of the royal family’s personal instructors, so Dad had come along as an assistant teacher; Mom had been a knight guarding the princess, and that’s how they’d met and started dating.

“Amazing. Not just any tower but the Sage’s Tower in the capital, the most competitive one of all. If that’s the case, you really wouldn’t need a separate tutor. I can see why the Duchess didn’t think it necessary.”

Don’t underestimate us just because we’re in the countryside. Maybe other domains were different, but our household was surprisingly well set up for learning. Honestly, how do you think my brother Recter, who never left Herba until he became a mercenary, managed to earn a living out there? He used the skills and knowledge our parents taught him.

• ◆ ◇

“Rivi, there’s no more room now.”

“Then let’s stack the other boxes next to the shelves.”

By the time we finished organizing the books and sweeping away all the dust, we’d completely missed our usual snack time. Ars and I washed our dirty hands thoroughly, then sat down in front of the fireplace.

The Duchess had sent food along with the books—delicate little cakes that looked like toys, sandwiches, and cookies stamped with elegant patterns. Maybe we were just extra hungry, but they were so good we didn’t leave a single crumb behind.

“It’ll be the New Year in just a few days.”

“How do you celebrate the New Year in Herba?”

“We make dumplings together and share them with everyone. And January first is a holiday, so even the market closes completely.”

“Everyone just takes the whole day off. Was that Baron Herba’s idea?”

“Yeah. But it’s like that in most of the neighboring domains too. How did you usually spend it?”

It was such an offhand question, but Ars’s expression instantly fell. He sighed softly, clearly dredging up memories he’d rather forget.

“His Majesty’s birthday is December 30th, so the court holds parties all the way through January 1st. Every year we went to the capital. Staying at the palace was just… exhausting.”

“Did the palace servants treat you badly? Like, they didn’t feed you, or scold you for no reason?”

“No, nothing like that. That kind of thing only happens in books; if it really happened it’d be a huge scandal. Physically I wasn’t uncomfortable there. It’s my mind that felt heavy. Just being in the palace drains you.”

Ars took a long drink of milk before quietly confessing the things he’d dealt with whenever he went to the capital.

For starters, the Imperial Family had the Empress, two imperial consorts, and three princes’ wives—so six high-ranking noblewomen in total. All from distinguished families, and none of them had what you’d call an easygoing personality. Add in all the royal cousins who’d been born into that atmosphere from day one, and it only got worse.

With the question of who would be crowned Crown Prince still undecided, even the dinner table was like walking on a frozen lake that might crack at any moment.

“It’s a little sad not seeing my parents for New Year’s, but I like not having to go to the capital. His Majesty is kind to me, so I feel bad, but the palace is full of frightening people. Consort Shatia, for example, literally narrows her eyes if His Majesty even pats my head.”

“Wait—aren’t you the Emperor’s nephew? Why would she do that?”

“Her son, Prince Denk, is really active and always getting scolded by His Majesty. But I just sit there quietly, so he praises me for being good.”

Ah. I got it immediately. In other words, when they compared Ars to her own much older son, Ars ended up looking better behaved. No wonder she resented him.

Honestly, just thinking about it gave me a headache. He hadn’t done a single thing wrong, yet he still had to deal with people scheming against him.

Being the ducal heir sounded like the empire’s most thankless job.

“Now I understand why people say ignorance is bliss.”

“Compared to the palace, Herba really is heaven. My parents would be so much less tired if they spent New Year’s here too.”

“They said they’re visiting in January, right? We should tell them to rest a bit while they’re here.”

“Yeah. I’m going to insist they stay at least two or three days.”

After hours of work, Ars was clearly tired; he rubbed at his eyes. I thought about carrying him to bed but decided it would be better to let him sleep in front of the fireplace, so I tucked a blanket over him. Lying face-down on the soft fur rug, Ars soon drifted off into gentle, even breathing.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Lady Rivi, you’ve been running around all day. Why not take a break?”

“I’m feeling great, Susanna. My stamina’s fine. Besides, the wedding dress is almost finished.”

“It’s going faster than I expected. That’s thanks to all your help, Elodie.”

Elodie watched Rivi and Susanna chatting so comfortably and let a small smile appear. They were making the most of a short window before dinner to get in a bit of sewing.

They’d all worked the same number of hours today, yet her master Ars was passed out cold while the little lady of Herba was still going strong. Part of it was Rivi’s ability, but the household staff often said that Riventitia was unusually robust even for her age. She’d clearly inherited her knight mother’s strength—and no doubt her father’s brains, too; she was mature and clever for her age.

“I was worried I’d lost my touch from not sewing for a while, but so far it’s going fine.”

“You’re good at embroidery, too. Is there a reason you didn’t sew at the ducal estate?”

“My duties there were mostly cleaning and organizing supplies. I didn’t have time for much else. I do like making things, so I was a bit disappointed. But honestly, I was just grateful to have a job at the ducal house at all.”

Elodie had grown up in the slums and had struggled terribly to find work. Her first real job was in a clothing shop run by an acquaintance of the orphanage director who’d raised her; it was pure luck she got in at all. The owner had noticed her diligence and kept her on.

After learning the trade there, she was saving up when she spotted the ducal household’s job posting. She’d applied thinking she had nothing to lose—and somehow got picked, beating odds of twenty to one.

The work was easier and the pay was higher. She’d agreed not to reveal any of Ars’s secrets, of course, and had a few binding spells placed on her for that reason.

When Ars decided to come to Herba for his convalescence, Elodie had been the first to volunteer.

Other maids were intimidated by the idea of living in a remote domain, but honestly, Elodie had reasoned, it had to be easier than surviving in the slums.

In practice? Life in Herba was far more comfortable than even the ducal estate.

For one thing, there wasn’t that much work. Using cleaning spells, she and Susanna could tidy Ars’s room, Euden’s room, and her own in about an hour.

Laundry took another hour with magic. The kitchen had its own staff, so all they had to do was fetch three meals a day. The rest of the time was theirs.

Herba’s population was so small that the market was tiny; she’d explored the whole thing in ten days. She couldn’t even venture into the Chepan Mountains because she wasn’t strong enough.

In short, all she really had to do was help with Susanna’s wedding preparations—which were almost finished now.

Winter still had over two months left. Elodie was already wondering what she’d do with herself next.

“Elodie, do you know how to knit?”

“Yes. I learned everything when I worked at the clothing shop. I was saving up to open my own store back then. I picked up every skill I could.”

“How about leatherwork?”

“I’m no master craftsman, but I can do basic repairs and stitching.”

“Hmm. Elodie, you’re just naturally good with your hands. That’s why you enjoy making things so much—you’re better at it than most people.”

Rivi had hit the nail on the head. Elodie was surprised at how perceptive she was but made sure not to let it show.

◇ ◆ ◇

“I’ve noticed you get bored and restless if you don’t have work to do, Elodie. But reading for fun isn’t really your thing, is it?”

“That’s true. I can read if I need to learn something, but I’ve never really enjoyed it as a hobby.”

Rivi finished off the piece of sewing in her hands, then offered Elodie an idea.

“I’ll give you some materials. In your free time, try making whatever you like. We can leave the finished products with a merchant company to sell. We’ll split the profits fifty-fifty. What do you think?”

“You mean not for the estate’s use, but actually selling them through a merchant company?”

“Exactly. That shop you used to work at was a custom-order place, right? High-end? This way is much better.”

Elodie’s eyes widened. As long as the items sold well, it was a win for both of them. Even if they didn’t sell, the loss was minimal—they’d still have some finished pieces to show for it. She could even take them back to her old shop in Pretium if needed.

Materials available in Herba were mostly top-grade. The clothing styles were simple and practical, but the quality was as good as anything worn by the average noble in the capital. After all, everyone in the domain used materials gathered from the Chepan Mountains.

“I’d love to. And if you or Lord Ars need anything in particular, I’ll make that too. Just tell me what you want.”

“Ars will need more than I will. He’s growing so fast that by spring half his clothes will be too small. I’ll ask my father to draw up a simple contract for us tomorrow. The materials are in the storeroom—want to go take a look now?”

“Yes!”

Strike while the iron is hot. Rivi, with the two maids in tow, headed straight for the estate’s storeroom outside the main house.

◇ ◆ ◇

“There’s so much yarn here. And the variety—the dye quality is incredible.”

“It’s all mine. Except for the silk in the white box, you can use everything else.”

“Wait—the mark on this box, Rivi! Isn’t this Kedivan silk?”

“It is.”

“You could make more than ten full dresses with this. It’s so hard to get—how did you even…?”

“Rector got it. He was on a job and saved a child; the kid’s grandfather runs a master-level silk workshop. They tried to give it to him for free, but you know how expensive this stuff is.”

“Even a single ribbon of it costs gold coins depending on the length.”

Rivi smiled wryly. Her brother hadn’t been able to just accept it for free, so he’d emptied his coin pouch to pay. Because of that story, they couldn’t exactly resell it either—it had sat in the storeroom for years. Their parents had said it would be perfect for when Rector or Rivi eventually married.

But Rector insisted it was fine for her to keep it all, since he’d inherit the estate anyway. Still, once she’d heard the price from her guardian, she couldn’t in good conscience just claim it all. She kept it stored for now, but if Rector married someday and she had a sister-in-law, she planned to give half of it to them.

“You mentioned all this piled-up material is yours. Didn’t your family set it aside for your dowry?”

“Technically, Rector did.”

“You’re really okay with me using it?”

“Sure. We can always get more. My parents always say it’s important to keep some cash reserves.”

It wasn’t like she was getting married tomorrow. Except for that Kedivan silk, everything else could be replaced; she had no problem letting Elodie use as much as she wanted.

Honestly, she’d once asked her parents if they couldn’t just sell all this and pay off some of the estate’s debts. But they’d refused. Even if she never married, they insisted she’d need it as an adult, and had put their foot down completely. It could only be used for family clothing or goods.

The entire storeroom’s contents were things Rector had started collecting the year she was born. After ten years of saving up bit by bit, there was no wonder it was so full.

Elodie was fired up now, but even if she worked all winter, she’d be lucky to use a tenth of it.

“Ars is probably about to wake up. Let’s head back.”

“Yes. I have everything I need.”

With Susanna’s help, Elodie had quickly filled a large box with supplies she liked. As dusk fell across the garden, the three of them carried it back to the warm, welcoming house.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Rector, go sleep in your room.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. I will. Chasing that ogre today wore me out.”

I shooed my drowsy brother off the sofa and sent him to bed. After that big dinner, the fatigue must have really hit. A hot bath on top of it would have made him even sleepier.

Unlike my slumping brother, Ars was wide awake beside me, looking refreshed after his long nap. His bright, alert eyes told me he wouldn’t be going to bed for at least a couple more hours.

“Ars, what do you want to do? We’ve got plenty of books and games.”

“Were you going to read?”

“If I start now, I probably won’t finish a whole book. And you know if I get curious about the ending, I’ll be up all night.”

“We’ll get in trouble if we don’t sleep. Okay, let’s play a game. I saw one I want to try earlier.”

Ars wiggled out of his blanket and looked around, hunting for the box with the game boards. He finally spotted it way up on the top shelf of the bookcase.

“It’s too high. Why is it up there? I remember putting it lower.”

“I’m sorry, Ars. We ran out of space, so I moved all the game boxes to the top.”

Elodie paused her knitting to fold her hands apologetically.

Ars debated whether to use the ladder or his magic. After a second’s thought, he chose magic and floated the box down with a spell.

“It’s the market game. It has four pieces so up to four people can play. Elodie, want to join?”

“I want to finish this skein before bed. It’s fine with just you two. Have fun.”

Euden was out of the room at the moment. Now that Rector and the mercenaries were back, making the house safe, Euden had gone out to practice sword work in the garden. He insisted on daily training to keep from getting stiff.

Sometimes he sparred with my mother, and though it was a little sad, he had never once beaten her. He was improving at least—the time it took for her to flatten him was slowly getting longer.

“Rivi, have you played this before?”

“Yeah. It’s a game that makes you think a lot.”

The market game was exactly what it sounded like: you ran a shop in a simulated market. Everyone started with the same amount of capital. The board showed the market layout, and you used your funds to buy shops.

Once you’d picked your shop spaces, you scattered hundreds of tiny enchanted pieces onto the board, and they moved automatically to buy goods from players’ shops. As they wandered, each player drew cards with conditions on them—only you could see your own.

You won by fulfilling your card’s condition first or by having the most money when the mana powering the board ran out.

“Whoa, this is harder than I thought.”

“It’s meant to be. They originally designed it for training new merchants in the guild. Even in schools they only let kids twelve and older play. And the boards are expensive, so you can’t break them.”

“So you played it with Rector?”

“Yeah, with him and with Dad. I can beat Rector a lot, but Dad? Out of ten games I might win once. He’s way too good.”

Since it was Ars’s first time, I made him read the instruction booklet. It was thick enough to take ten minutes even for him. When he finished, we pressed our palms into the little magic circle at the edge of the board to activate it with mana.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Condition met! I win!”

“Eh? Already?”

“Yup.”

I showed my card to Ars, who was so excited he was bouncing on the floor.

“Sell a thousand items from your own shops. Ugh—so that’s why you did that big opening sale right away. But why only discount the cheapest apples?”

“If I discounted everything expensive too, I could’ve gone into the red.”

“Right. Even if you meet the condition on the card, you lose if you’re in the negatives.”

“What did yours say, Ars?”

“Sell ten of the most expensive items from your shop.”

Ouch. Poor kid got the worst draw for a beginner. Ars had blown most of his starting cash on one of the priciest shops in the market—the jewelry store. It was a bold move to try and rake in massive profits.

But jewelry stores had low foot traffic by design, and their most expensive pieces weren’t the kind of thing commoners could afford. On top of that, the game board only scattered twenty royal figurines with the money to even consider them.

“Some royals visited, but they didn’t buy the top diamond set.”

“Yeah. You should’ve kept enough cash to buy another shop after seeing your card. You got too greedy.”

If he’d started with a balanced strategy—buying one mid-range store plus a grocery shop with the leftover money—I might’ve lost.

Grocery shops had top-tier items like crates of beef. With events like free samples or bonus bundles, you could sell those in a flash.

“This is tough, even for adults.”

“Yeah. Our estate’s merchant guild runs this game sometimes. Even our Head Merchant—my godfather—can’t guarantee a win against new hires every time.”

“I need to study more. At this rate, you’ll just keep beating me. I won’t play with you again until I’m a master.”

Ars dramatically declared he wouldn’t challenge me again until he’d become an expert.

“Let’s go to a big market in spring. Seeing a real one will help. You’ve never been, right?”

“No. I’ve looked out the carriage window, but I’ve never gone inside a shop.”

So he’d only seen the wide main roads from the carriage. Those were just the polished front—narrow alleys and crowded markets were where the real life was.

Wait. Did he even know how money worked? Nervous, I asked. Luckily he knew what gold and silver coins were. The Grand Duke himself had explained it.

“If we’re going, I’ll need to make you a few new outfits just for visiting the market.”

“Can’t I just wear something comfy?”

“The stuff from Pretium is too fancy. Wearing that would be dangerous.”

It wasn’t even about the clothes being too nice. Ars’s face screamed “high nobility” to anyone who glanced at him.

He had that delicate, almost porcelain-pale face with huge eyes, a cute little nose, and soft cherry-red lips. And that hair—so glossy and smooth it looked like it was spun from silver threads.

We’d have to visit Webentia, the neighboring domain, for a big enough market. It was bustling with travelers.

And the Count who ruled Webentia was famously timid for a northern noble. If he realized who Ars really was, he’d come running barefoot to greet him.

“Ars is growing so quickly. We’ll take his measurements in the spring for new clothes.”

“Elodie, make them as simple as possible.”

“Yes, but even clothes won’t be enough. We’ll need a big hat and oversized glasses, too.”

“Better than nothing.”

Elodie and I both agreed: anything to cover up that dangerously pretty face.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Good night, Mother. Father.”

The glow inside the crystal orb dimmed. The Duchess of Pretium gently stroked the orb as if caressing her son’s face, then lowered her head slightly.

“Dear.”

The Grand Duke, standing beside her, carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was crying, unable to hide her guilt over having to stay so far from their son. They’d never had much time together before, always so busy, but even then they’d at least been under the same roof. Living apart like this was completely different.

“Ars is the brave one, but you’re the one crying.”

“We can’t even be with him for the New Year. We’re terrible parents. All this for some stupid party.”

“We’ll stay a week or so in January.”

“Aidic, can you really be away that long?”

“We hired new administrators. It should be doable. I even thought about asking the Baron’s daughter from Herba to visit Pretium for a few days…”

“Now isn’t the right time.”

They both sighed in unison.

They could see from the crystal that Ars was getting better. His complexion was bright and his little body had filled out so well it was plump. Just seeing their son healthy made them happier than anything.

At first, even their retainers and close friends had opposed sending Ars to Herba to convalesce, but now no one could say much about it. Word was spreading that families with sickly children were sending quiet inquiries to the Baron of Herba.

But with Ars’s health improving, all the issues they’d postponed during his illness were starting to resurface—most notably, his betrothal.

Families with daughters around Ars’s age were beginning to test the waters. If it were only northern families, they could manage it, but even nobles from the capital were getting involved. The Duchess had immediately contacted her brother, the Emperor, to make it clear Ars wouldn’t be attending any of the upcoming events.

“When our child was sick, they didn’t even send a single root of medicine. They just whispered about adopting a new heir behind our backs.”

“Now that things have changed, they’re the ones scrambling.”

“It’s revolting. Truly.”

The biggest headache came from the Empress and the two Imperial Consorts, whose sons were locked in a fierce succession fight.

The Pretium Duchy controlled the entire north—it was the most powerful great house in the Empire. Aligning with them would give any faction an instant advantage.

Their status was so high that only a small pool of noble daughters—mostly relatives of the Empress and Consorts—were even considered suitable matches for Ars.

But every time they’d visited the palace before, Ars had looked so sickly that no one dared push their daughters forward. If he failed to inherit the duchy, all the cost and risk would fall on the bride’s family; no one was willing to gamble their prestige on such a chance.

The Duchess pressed a hand to her chest, forcing herself to calm down.

She couldn’t afford to vent her fury now. This was the time to think coldly and choose their next move carefully.

“The south is too far, and all the capital girls are directly or indirectly connected to the palace.”

“So it’ll have to be the east or the north. The north is our territory—that’ll be easier. But the east will be tricky.”

“Ars’s generation has an odd imbalance: it’s almost all boys.”

Strangely enough, in the east the old noble lines had a shortage of daughters in this generation. Some couples had even kept trying for years, only to end up with four sons.

If you searched thoroughly enough, there were some families with daughters.

But if she was an only child, she’d have to inherit the family title; even if there were siblings, most parents didn’t want to send their daughters too far away. Even in marriage, having her nearby was preferable.

The east was notorious for its strong family bonds.

“The north has fewer noble houses overall.”

“True, but there are still some decent candidates in terms of territory and influence.”

“If we choose poorly, it’ll be a disaster. The family matters, of course, but the couple’s compatibility is even more important. We can’t count on them to just magically get along like you and I did.”

“Fair point.”

Their own betrothal had been quite late by noble and imperial standards.

Clemence had been the legitimate daughter of the Empress—the most beautiful woman on the continent and famously kind. She was her older brother the Emperor’s only sister, so the Imperial Family had flatly refused to consider sending her abroad. They had scoured the Empire’s nobility instead.

Pretium’s Grand Duke Aidic was the only candidate to pass every requirement.

Even then, the Emperor had insisted on a condition: if Clemence didn’t like him, the engagement would be called off without question.

Luckily for everyone involved, they’d taken to each other immediately. After a few years of engagement, they’d held a grand wedding.

But not every arranged marriage worked out so well. As children, they had no way to break it, so many simply endured—only for the engagement to fall apart with all sorts of drama once they were older.

“It’s important enough that we should tell Ars directly and hear what he thinks.”

“He’s had to put up with so much just for being the Empress’s grandson and the Duchy’s heir. If he absolutely refuses an engagement, I’ll side with him.”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“We can set requirements so high that no normal family could meet them. That should buy us a few years.”

“Hmm.”

If any other noblewoman tried that, her reputation would be in tatters. But Clemence had been the Empire’s most sought-after bride; no one would dare openly criticize her for it.

Since he couldn’t come up with anything better himself, the Grand Duke simply nodded in agreement.

If there was no best solution, they’d have to choose the next-best one. Avoiding the absolute worst outcome was the most important thing.

◇ ◆ ◇

A gentle hand ruffled my hair, making me crack my eyes open halfway.

“Huaaaahm.”

“Rivi, the sun’s coming up. Want to watch it with me?”

“It’s cold. I’m not going outside.”

“You can just watch from the window.”

Turning my head, I saw Ars fast asleep, limbs spread out in every direction. If I woke him now, he’d throw a fit for sure, so I carefully slid out of the blankets without patting his belly like usual.

Rector covered me with a furry blanket before pulling aside the curtains. The dim sky was slowly turning bright.

“Look over there. The sun’s coming up over the mountains.”

“It’s pretty.”

After rubbing my eyes a couple of times, my vision cleared. I nestled in my brother’s arms and gazed at the huge, rising sun. It was the first day of the new year.

“Rivi, look at the mountain peaks. There’s a dragon flying.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Looks like they’re on a dawn flight.”

I followed where he pointed and sure enough—a red dragon and a black dragon were soaring gracefully in the sky. Even from this distance, their glinting scales were dazzlingly beautiful.

Our territory had a lot of dragon lairs, so you might catch a glimpse once in a blue moon. But seeing them flying openly and for this long was a first for me.

“Dragons hate having their image captured. Too bad we can’t record this in a crystal.”

“Yeah. If Herba had a really good painter, at least we could have it drawn.”

The two dragons twisted elegantly in midair a few times before slipping away into the dense forest, vanishing as if they’d been sucked in. They probably cast invisibility magic—or transformed into human shapes.

Waking up this early left my head feeling a bit foggy. Once he’d finished his sunrise mission, my brother tucked me right back into bed.

“Sleep a bit more.”

“Okay. You too, get some rest.”

His under-eyes were dark, probably from drinking all night with the others to see out the old year. I quietly waved at him as he slipped out of the room.

I gave Ars’s round, soft cheeks a gentle squeeze before lying back down. The bed, still warm with body heat, was cozy and soothing.

If it hadn’t been New Year’s, there was no way I’d have left my blankets before dawn. Today was special. That’s the only reason.

Now I could still sleep for at least another hour. Holding Ars’s little hand, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Happy New Year!”

“Yes, let’s all stay healthy and happy this year too.”

On New Year’s morning, you have to eat something hot. With so many people staying in the manor, anything too elaborate would be difficult to make, so this year’s first meal was stew. There were two kinds: creamy white stew and a rich brown one.

The adults each took a bowl of the one they liked better, but Ars and I were served both, each half-filled into a snowman-shaped bowl. The message was clear—eat well and grow up strong.

“Rivi, the meat in the stews is different, right? White one’s chicken, brown one’s beef? It’s really good.”

“Sorry to say, but you’re wrong. The white one’s wyvern meat, and the brown one’s minouta.”

The flavor’s similar to chicken and beef, but wyvern and minouta are much more luxurious ingredients, and the price reflects that. Since they’re known for their restorative qualities, they’re perfect for a New Year’s meal.

Ars and I used our bread to wipe the bowls clean.

Now that we were full, it was time to make dumplings. We’d already prepped everything the night before, so today we just had to roll the dough thin and mass-produce the wrappers, then fill and fold them.

“Ars, you said you usually spent the New Year in the capital, right?”

“Yeah. We’d usually leave the palace and arrive at the city estate in the afternoon.”

“So you didn’t get to eat dumplings? I read in a book that the central region’s New Year foods are different from the north.”

“Actually, the palace served a bit of everything from across the Empire. Dumplings included.”

Since the Emperor is the symbolic father of the Empire’s people, he couldn’t afford to show favoritism toward any single region. That’s why, on January 1st, it was custom for him to sample the most iconic New Year dishes from all over the Empire.

“North, south, east, west, and the central region. That makes five total.”

“Right. The actual spread is much more varied, but His Majesty only tastes five. For example, central-region bread dipped in southern curry.”

Ars’s stories about palace customs were so different from ours that I found them really entertaining. We chatted while working busily to fold dumplings.

Ars was surprisingly good with his hands; he made leaf-shaped, round, and crescent-shaped dumplings with ease.

“Looks like we’ve got enough dough. What’s Rector doing right now?”

“He’s preparing the dough for the steamed buns we’ll have for dessert. It’s not a family tradition, but I like steamed buns, so we always make them on New Year’s.”

Soft, fluffy steamed buns were the perfect winter snack, especially when you could see your breath in the cold air. Since making the red bean paste filling was time-consuming, even the ever-doting Rector only made them on special occasions.

“Hesila, don’t you dare go stealing the candied chestnuts!”

“Rivi, just one! Please? It’s going in my belly anyway, whether it’s now or later inside a bun. Same difference.”

“One becomes two, two becomes ten. Ben, bring me the jar.”

“Aye! Here you go.”

You had to be careful with Hesila—she had a serious sweet tooth. I placed the jar of chestnuts where I could keep a close eye on it. She argued that after her ‘grand morning walk’ she absolutely needed one now, but I let that nonsense go in one ear and out the other.

“So we put chestnuts in the buns too?”

“We mix them with red bean paste and shape them into balls, then steam them.”

“I’ve only ever eaten them—I’ve never seen how they’re made. I read about it in cookbooks, but watching it in person is way more fun.”

Ars’s eyes sparkled like stars. Hmm, I’m glad he’s enjoying this.

◇ ◆ ◇

After having a dumpling party with boiled dumplings, steamed buns, and fried dumplings, our bellies were full. The leftovers would either be sent to struggling villagers in the territory or frozen for storage.

Ars wanted to give the dumplings he made to his parents, so I set those aside in a separate container.

“I don’t think I can eat dinner now.”

“I feel like I’m going to burst!”

Sir Euden and Elodie, who were experiencing our family’s New Year for the first time, clutched their stomachs and leaned back in their chairs. The steamed buns would be coming out soon—looks like someone miscalculated the portions, tsk tsk.

Only Ars, who matched my eating pace, was still fine.

“You two should save some room to eat the steamed buns tonight.”

“Yeah, if we eat more now, our stomachs will revolt.”

Elodie, looking a little embarrassed, went to her room, and Sir Euden said he’d take a walk around the manor. Meanwhile, Rector’s soft, snowy-white steamed buns arrived, and we welcomed them with happy hearts.

“Wow, it’s sweet! The bread is so fluffy and the filling so soft.”

“Tasty, right?”

“Rector, you really can do everything. Amazing.”

Ars admired the buns even more than those he’d had at the Duke’s castle. I took a big bite of a slightly cooled bun and savored it.

“I want to give some to my parents too. Rivi, can steamed buns be frozen?”

“Yeah. Just like dumplings. You could ask Hesila to cast preservation magic on them, but it doesn’t make much difference taste-wise.”

Preservation magic is more difficult and mana-consuming than simply freezing food. That’s why, in our territory, it’s mostly reserved for expensive ingredients.

Rector promised Ars he’d set some buns aside just for him. And if worse comes to worst, they could always make more when the Duke and Duchess visit our territory. I know how to make them too.

“Being in Herba is only fun and happiness. What if I end up not wanting to go home? I’m already feeling a little sad.”

“Your body’s gotten healthier, so even if you return to the castle, your life won’t be like before.”

“But compared to other heirs of different territories, I’m still far behind. That’s why the retainers and elders always worry about me.”

“Is that really a problem when the one ruling Pretium is His Grace the Duke? It’s not you.”

Hearing this, Ars’s face lit up as if struck by lightning. Rector joined in with a word of encouragement.

“His Grace the Duke is among the younger generation of high nobility. Inheriting the family estate is still a distant future. No need to be anxious this early.”

Ars can now somewhat control his abilities. While he can’t fully regulate the range yet, he can control when to attack and when to withdraw his power. His strength rivals heirs from renowned warrior families.

And knowledge can be built over time. Even Rector knew little at Ars’s age. He read, learned, and practiced until he became the capable adult he is today.

“Next time someone says nonsense, ask them if they could talk and walk the moment they were born, okay?”

“Okay! I’ll glare and argue hard.”

“If Ars says that, the other person will probably shut up and run away. Age doesn’t matter—time doesn’t always improve character.”

Starting the new year with some tough words, huh? By the way, this is something Dad once muttered as he passed by. When I asked what it meant, he gave me a serious look and said I’d understand when I grew up.

But even though I’m still a kid, I already get it.

Ars, sometimes it’s better not to know than to know. Truly.