“This baroness … resides in a tavern?”

Within the narrow streets of Hartzwiese, I offered my sweetest bout of laughter, the strength of the echo enough to shore up the dilapidated buildings as they threatened to collapse at any moment. 

The peasants gave me a wide berth, pressing themselves against the walls. Not because my laugh was anything other than the song of dancing angels. But because Apple required it. 

As expected of the countryside, there was little to distinguish when the barns ended and when the town began. What counted as roads stretched just enough to fit the countless signs saying no horses were allowed, causing Apple to always pause as he nibbled his way to our destination.

I tugged his reins, hurrying him onwards.

After all … was it not the duty of a princess to offer charity to those in most need?

“Oho … ohohohoho … !!”

Why, had I known one of my own nobility was stricken with such poverty, I would have come earlier!

I came here to publicly denigrate a baroness for undermining my kingdom. Had I known she resided in a bar frequented by louts no different to those she hired, I would have let her scheme more.

Nobody deserved to permanently sleep in the establishments I stayed at. Not even traitors. I was neither cruel nor callous enough to wish such a fate. No, I’d offer her … one night, perhaps two, crafting soap in the luxury of a barn owned by her peers. 

And then I’d ship her off to Soap Island. 

She may not care about her image, but I did. I would not have her making the keen eyes upon my kingdom think my nobility conducted treason merely because they were poor. 

No, I wanted them to know they did it because they were poor as well as naturally disloyal, untrustworthy and prone to sedition.

“Ohohohoho … my, all this time, I wondered why a mere baroness would lack the sense to remain quietly in her hovel instead of reaching beyond her means. The answer is clear. She did–and now she’s utterly black out drunk as a result.”

The consequences of residing in a tap room, the voices of reason drowned by the wisdom of alcohol. Each night I barricaded myself in the room of a common inn, I was guaranteed to hear as many plans for glory and fortune as could be derived from a farm boy peering misty eyed into the horizon.

A foolish notion. 

The only true treasure was my personal acknowledgement. And for commoners and nobility alike, the only way to achieve it was by answering my servant’s bell before I’d rung the first chime. 

“Um …”

Before me, Renise gave a pained smile as she peeked behind her shoulder.

As a former lady of one of Reitzlake’s less poor families, she at least had an inkling of understanding of the ladder this baroness was attempting to climb. There were standards. The road to treachery was long and filled with knives hidden beneath the tables of soirées, not brawls in tavern corners.

“I feel I should mention that while Baroness Arisa resides in a tavern, she does so out of choice, not lack of funds. She has a, well, reputation that she strives for. I believe some refer to her as … the People’s Princess.”

I stared at her in shock, forgetting to hurry Apple onwards as he stopped in the face of a pair of legs dangling from a balcony above. Coppelia shooed him away as her heel was threatened.  

And then–

“Ohho … ohohooh … ohohohohoho … ohhohhooohhohoh … ohhhohhohohhhohhohohh!!”

I could do nothing to stop myself.

Nor did I find the need to try.

Instead, I found myself laughing to the finest jest I’d heard since Coppelia had suggested we try foraging for food when our supplies had dropped to a single limp strudel. That was an excellent one. To imply I would reduce myself to becoming a garden squirrel rather than boldly accept starvation.

The People’s Princess!

A splendid name. And one I already possessed.

Truly, was this baroness not capable of anything but infringing on my image? First she adopts my emblem, and now my moniker. What will come next? My choice of bedsheets, perhaps?

Naturally, it was no strange thing to emulate royalty. We were more than paragons of leadership. And this included modern trends. Our every word, our every action, and our every spoon we purchased was as closely studied as a forbidden grimoire by a scandalous mage. 

But to become me entirely?

Why, I never knew that treason could come in such comical flavours. 

I wondered how many more she had to offer.

“Ohoho … oho … ohoh … very well, that was entertaining.” I wiped the smallest tear from the corner of my eyes. “A unique approach, to seek to fell me from my saddle through amusement alone. Fine, I shall offer my acknowledgement for the creativity, if not the complete lack of priorities. It’s hardly the common people she needs to endear herself with. But my boot.”

Renise shook her head.

“I fear your boot may need to become acquainted with more than Baroness Arisa. There is a possibility that criminal syndicates from Granholtz are involved.”

“In what manner?”

“Smuggling,” said Renise simply. “She possesses several mercantile ventures which allow her to trade at the same price as trolls do. Much of her wares are not uncommon. But she has been able to drive down valuation on a considerable number, hence the number of merchants only here to buy and not sell. I believe it’s unsustainable at this scale without facilitation with Granholtz’s smuggling guilds.”

If I rolled my eyes any further, I’d be peering into the back of my own head.

Ugh. Nobility.

They were all the same. Give them a hand and they would rip off the other to sell it back.

Still, I expected little less from someone who would already court the services of foreign generals, woodland hags and landless knights. Drawing Granholtz’s criminal fraternity to my borders was a small crime compared to the grave misuse of my personal time she’d already committed.

“Excellent. An unknown baroness boasting dubiously low prices and a highly suspect rise in ambition. A tale as old as the sewers of Reitzlake.”

“That may be so, Miss Juliette. But never once in the sewers did I spy grain.”

“Grain?”

Renise nodded, her expression clouded with concern.

“I discovered a significant stockpile beneath the tavern. A vast amount shipped in from Granholtz.”

“Oh? Are you certain?”

“Yes. I examined it myself. It was not to hide other goods as I had assumed. It was purely grain.”

I raised a brow. 

Even for the countryside nobility, they should know that grain was no jewel to earn them any great returns. There was no reason to smuggle it like contraband. 

Not unless, of course, there was a wish to keep it purposefully hidden from the grain stores, the bakers, the millers and the eyes of the merchants–until a time when they were called.

… My, could it be that this audacious baroness was even more bold than I’d thought?

Indeed, Granholtz was more than their soldiers or their criminals.

It was their economy. 

If vast sums of cheap grain continually attempted to cross the Loerstadt Gate, there is little question Tristan would stop it at once. He knew well the cost if the bread above and below our table came to rely solely upon the hand of the Grand Duchess. One which had retreated to devastation before.

I gave a little hum.

Of all the places I expected the spider’s hand to reach … then Hartzwiese would certainly be one of them.

If grain was allowed to spill in at low prices, then the farmers of my countryside would see themselves ruined.

Few could compete with the spider’s purse strings. 

The Dune King in his spire beneath the sun. The Summer Kingdoms should they ever cease to fling away every crown away towards any bard to desecrate a lute. And maybe old Rozinthe, in coffers found before their empire became a byword for calamity. But for all others, the Grand Duchess did not need swords to see her realm grow. The Duchy of Morwal had been taken by spices and not blades, ripped from statehood by enough saffron to turn the rulers into paupers.

“Could this truly be it, I wonder? …”

“Excuse me?”

“A tepid attempt by Granholtz to destroy the kingdom economically. To bribe my nobility into running my own farmers into greater hardship than what we allow.”

Renise actually had the ability to look shocked. 

I found it rather endearing.

“The nobility seek wealth and power. I cannot possibly fathom inviting calamity in such a way that you suggest. It is senseless.”

“True. Yet a spider can weave many webs. And those who are caught see little but their own flailing limbs. It would not be beyond Granholtz to entice a baroness into an act of witlessness. Those lowest always have the furthest to climb, and even a ladder of poisoned silk is one they will gladly seize.”

I gave it another moment’s thought.

Then, I tugged on Apple’s reins, allowing him to leisurely carry me past the aggrieved peasants forced to absorb their own stomachs to allow us past.

“How very curious. It appears this baroness may have something interesting to offer other than her pleas. We shall need to ask her to find out.”

Renise blinked, her expression of puzzlement next aimed towards me.

“You do not appear overly worried.”

“Ohhohoho … of course not. Why should I?”

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever scheme is in motion, it’s undermined by the sheer fact that the least subtle of nobility is involved. A baroness from the countryside is no asset. It is a catastrophic vulnerability. A 14 layer cake built on a smearing of shortbread so frail that the approach of a fork would collapse it.”

Renise parted her lips, but no words came out.

Indeed, there was little for her to say. One did not merely skip the subterfuge and go straight to rubbing elbows with illicitness enough that it caught the attention of the royal capital’s eyes. 

There was an order to things. 

Whispers beneath moonlight. Bribes under the table. Meetings in the shadows. Eyes and ears turned and twisted away, veiled by threats written in red or the blinding glitter of tinkling gold. 

This?

Why, this was the work of an utter amateur!

“Indeed, this baroness should take advice from yourself. Had she conspired with your Smugglers Guild in its prime, then I would certainly have taken note. Why, your family treasonously undermined my kingdom for years without being caught. This is nothing but shoddy. Those who conspire against my family only have one chance to earn my denouement. For it to be dull is the greatest crime of all.”

Renise’s smile became more pained.

Still, she said nothing, instead opting to nod while keeping her thoughts to herself.

Truly a good pick by my brother. Such tactfulness did not come naturally.

“And how is Roland?” I asked, bringing the topic to something far better. “I missed him in Reitzlake. I do hope he’s well amidst such colourless company.”

“He is as the Crown Prince always is. Inundated with a ceaseless schedule. He bears the responsibility with grace, making the most burdensome of tasks appear little else but a minor matter on his time. How he truly feels is not something I can answer.”

“It is not something anyone can. As the heir to the kingdom, the weight he bears is one we cannot truly comprehend. It is a relief, however, that he has found capable retainers to assist him in his duties. I expect wondrous things from this … Rose House of yours.”

“Thank you. Although the gratitude is mine. I offer my small part, but I fear it’s not enough.”

“To strive in service is a greater effort than most who can be found wandering Reitzlake’s alleys. And one he doubtless acknowledges. No matter the size of our parts, we must do all we can to offer our assistance.” 

Renise nodded, silent except for the quick apologies towards those blocking Apple’s path.

After a moment, she glanced down either direction of the street and then turned to me.

“If I may ask, have you informed the Crown Prince regarding your adventurer disguise.”

“My masterful adventurer disguise.”

“Your masterful adventurer disguise.”

“No, I haven't. It’s been some time since I’ve spoken with him, and this shameful, if highly effective facade is one I’ve only acquired recently.”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve occasionally broached the topic of you, but the way he refers to you is indicative that he thinks you’re unlikely to be an adventurer.”

“Quite so. I’m delicate and fragile. He would never think of me as anything else.” 

Renise smiled–just before creaking her face away. 

I opened my mouth in horror.

“W-What has he said about me?!”

“Nothing.”

“That is not the reaction of nothing! What … What has my brother revealed!?”

“Only the odd, non-sequential word in passing. I can scarcely remember.”

I immediately pointed at her.

“Excuse me! You have been arrested for treason once! You can be arrested again! I demand you remember!”

Renise let out a small groan.

“It’s … well, it truly is only a few words. Such as chuckling at a former memory. A source of warmth.”

“I see.” I narrowed my eyes slightly as I leaned in. “... Such as?”

“Well, I believe he once mentioned a time where you were caught sneaking into the kitchens late at night, and in order to not have your identity exposed, you attempted to escape by adorning yourself in the chef’s uniform, and while threatening the guards in a false tenor voice tripped and landed in the very same pile of shortcakes you–”

“S-S-Stop at once!!” I looked on in horror. “How … How many non-sequential words were spoken for such a … such an untrue fabrication of events to occur?! Indeed, that had never once happened! Every signed testimony under penalty of perjury agrees to it!”   

“Pfffffffffffffffhhht.”

Her skipping footwork coming to a stop, Coppelia balanced upon the edge of a balcony above me, both hands stifling her mouth as she sought to expel a sudden ladybug attacking her face.

I regally sat up straight.

Clearly, Roland wasn’t busy enough! Here I was, saving the kingdom–and what was he doing but offering up royal secrets of events which never occurred?

Why … for such slovenness, I would … I would tell Mother on him!

“Hehe.”

Suddenly, Renise let out a girlish giggle. The noise seemed to surprise her, as she promptly joined me in donning the form of a receptionist at work. She gave a cough into her fist.

“Ahem … although I dare not speak on his behalf to his own sister, I believe the Crown Prince would find the sight of you keeping him in your mind most heartwarming to him. He spoke of his concerns for all his family when he sent me on this assignment. It is possible … no, it’s almost certain he suspected as you do now. That something greater than a baroness playing at smuggler is at play.” 

I let out a small sigh.

Even far away, my brother managed to find ways to aggrieve me. Although his pranks were rarer now than they were when we all shared the same roof together.

“He had little cause to worry, then,” I said as I looked ahead. “Even were Granholtz to attempt to flood the kingdom with cheap grain and drive our farmers to rebellion, it is still not the worst case scenario.”

“Oh, I see.” Renise blinked at me. “... Then, what is?”

I tugged on Apple’s reins, pulling him to a stop.

“Why, that would be this.”

The moment Apple bore me past the corner of the street, I was greeted by a horrific sight.

A premonition of my kingdom in flames.

No smoke yet rose. And no bells tolled desperately into the night. But I saw it still.

Chaos. Panic. Rage.

Men and women, the old and the young, shoulder to shoulder in a dense gathering, the ground groaning beneath them as they stomped, the butts of their pitchforks striking the soil as well as thrusting into the air. 

The din of cacophony. Of disillusionment. Of danger.

Men, women … even children were spotted amidst the gathering. No hands were spared, curled into a fist or gripped around a farming tool, the grips quivering beside faces scrunched up in an unbroken mosaic of bitterness. 

I gasped, covering my mouth.

There was no doubt about it.

It was a … a peasant mob.

That which started all rebellions. A single spark which heralded the fall of empires.

Like a storm out to sea, the mob gathered around the entrance of the largest building not to be a barn, the mass of animosity threatening to capsize the single man stood at its door like a bravely careening ship.

Nearby, shopkeepers and visiting merchants alike worked in unorganised tandem to ensure that their homes and livelihoods were saved from the perils of any countryside town’s oldest enemy.

Sobriety.

“Open up! I said open up! Who do you think you guys are, huh?! You can’t just do as you please!”

“Whaddya mean its closed?! You know how much Arisa gives to this town, you dogs?!”

“Last orders haven’t been rung yet! This is illegal!”

“Booooze!! Give me boooooze!!”

“Come out! We know you’re in there!”

Yes … it was unmistakably a tavern!

And judging by the look of wild confusion on Renise’s face, the one we had now reached!

To see such a large coming together of townspeople directing their resentment towards it filled me with no joy! Rather, I was utterly horrified! It mattered not who my foes were! All peasant mobs were but one peppy farm boy away from turning into the next popular revolt! 

Wasting no time, I directed Apple forwards, grateful for his ability to move aside even a dense mob with his lackadaisical steps.

He trotted towards the sole man stood before the closed door. He wore the trappings of a barkeeper, and also the sweat of a man left to feed the hunger of the wolves.

“You there,” I said above the racket. “What is currently occurring? What is the meaning of this illegal gathering threatening the peace of the realm?”

The barkeeper barely seemed to notice me, such was his fright against the clear baying for blood.

Eventually, he slowly pointed behind him.

I leaned towards a note plastered against the door.

 

OFFICIAL NOTICE.

 

By order of the Royal Treasury, the Rosehearth Tavern is hereby closed until further notice due to unpaid taxes. Any attempt to enter the premises is strictly prohibited. We apologise for any inconvenience this has caused.

 

Tax Inspectorate Office, Royal Treasury.

 

I could feel the fire raging behind me.

Outrage fuelled by a single notice upon a wooden door. The fury echoed with each shout, the ire of the surrounding voices only possible to be doused by the unfinest beverages held inside a tavern now closed until further notice … by my own tax inspectors.

I was appalled.

… Just where were the louts going to go now?!

Taverns, inns and bars had one purpose–and that was to house all the delinquents who would otherwise be loitering on my streets and gathering in a mob outside the Royal Villa’s gates!

As long as the peasantry were constantly inebriated, they could not host the organisation required to bring about structural change to the kingdom’s governance! For any tavern to be brought down in flames was an assault against the bastions of defence which held up my family’s reign!

Coppelia peeked past me, easily shoving aside peasants where Renise had succumbed to them.

“Wow~ and here I thought you were just making up all your tax inspectors. Look, they’ve already stomped the boot of authority for you! That means your soles can take a break. Isn’t this great?”

My hands gripped against Apple’s reins.

“No, Coppelia … this is not great in the slightest. This is awful.”

“Ehh … I mean, I get they took away your chance to do the laugh. But they can do it too.”

“Please. If any of my tax inspectors could gloat to a sufficient standard, their talents would be wasted on actual tasks. They’d be standing ominously behind me while in chorus to my own.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty scary. I bet they can slap down notices faster than any swordsman can cut them down. Death by a thousand official paper cuts.”

I took in a deep breath.

Ordinarily, I’d agree with Coppelia’s sentiment.

However–

“This … This is no official notice.”

“You sure? Because it’s in capital letters. It’s illegal to use capital letters when it’s not official.”

“All the more reason to feel aggrieved, then. This is no work of the Royal Treasury. I’m certain of it!”

Indeed, my tax inspectors were nothing if not diligent.

And this included understanding the full breadth of their vast responsibilities.

There were many ways to claw back unpaid taxes, each slightly less discreet than the last, yes … but closing down a tavern entirely? Unthinkable. This did nothing but rile the peasantry–an action which threatened the very security of my kingdom!

No, I refused to stand for it!

“You there,” I said to the terrified barkeeper. “You may return to your duties. I shall ensure your continued ability to dispense the balm of placidness to the people.”

He blinked up at me, his eyes filled with bewilderment. He then glanced behind himself, as though wishing the door would swing aside for him.

“Huh? N-No … the tavern … it’s … it’s closed.”

“Then consider it now open.”

“But … But the notice … and the inspectors. They’re still here.”

I clapped my hands in delight.

“... My, is that so? How wonderful! Then it’s time I perform an inspection of my own.” 

I raised myself, about to dismount from Apple.

Then, I gave a little hum, before I sat back down and tugged on his reins instead.

Apple needed a stables.

And a tavern would do just fine.