“Sooooooooooooo ...”
Coppelia looked at a little wooden signboard stuck into a pile of stones.
I was quickly beginning to realise that every sign I saw would be the death of my patience.
CAUTION.
Due to threat of falling objects, the hidden path to Castle Aquina's postern door is currently sealed to all visitors.
Please use the alternate route through the well for direct entry into the interior keep.
Duchy of Aquina Health and Safety Commission.
Site last inspected 37th Yuletide 1402.
I was so close to abandoning everything.
Nothing had tested my resolve. Not shopkeepers fielding fireballs. Not cackling nobility. And not minotaurs trying to extort me for a price well below my worth.
This, however, was a new level of insult.
Beside Aquina Castle, which dominated the sea of diminutive cottages with a shadow wide enough to swallow the town whole, a discreet garden path could be found.
Invisible to anyone who wasn't acutely familiar with castle exits, it was a path that was expertly hidden behind a blossoming rhododendron bush.
Unguarded and away from prying eyes, this secluded area was the perfect staging ground for my well thought out plan to tax Duke Valence blind.
Not only did its gradual decline suggest direct access to one of the lower floors, but its very nature meant this area could be utilised as a dumping ground for any furniture I required Coppelia to confiscate. I'd maximise use of the Duke's own castle against him.
It was indeed perfect … all the way until Coppelia and I reached the wooden sign sought to disrupt our noble goals.
It was so ordinary that any glancing eyes would fail to see it. A plain, unembellished sign which could have been used to detail the arrangement of the orange and violet tulip shrubs behind it. And yet to me, it was now as aggravating as a sleeping dragon sent to block my path.
I was bewildered as much as I was infuriated.
This … This was no cliff at threat of erosion! It was no mountain troubled by landslides! What falling objects did I have to be concerned over?! Behind the sign, the path wound on next to the castle! The castle! Was a tower at risk of falling over?!
“This is utterly ridiculous!” I said, stabbing angrily at the wooden signboard with my fingertip. “The Duchy of Aquina Health and Safety Commission?!”
“Sounds like guys you wouldn't to mess with,” replied Coppelia. “I bet they can slap warning notices on your face faster than you can rip them off.”
The amusement of my future handmaiden came in the form of her ensuing giggle. I did not see the funny side in this.
“This is a hidden passage for use in highly clandestine meetings! Underhanded deals, midnight flights and daggers soaked in betrayal are found at the end of these paths! Why should falling objects be a concern?!”
“I mean, if a falling piano—”
“There are no falling pianos, Coppelia! And what alternate well do they even refer to?!”
Coppelia joined me as I started searching for a source of water.
After several moments, she walked over to another rhododendron bush and split it apart, revealing what was, without doubt, the smallest well in the Kingdom of Tirea.
I walked over and peered past Coppelia's shoulder.
It was scarcely a few bricks high, lacking a well cover, a bucket, a ladder, and any functionality whatsoever. Within the well, only the slightest shimmering of water greeted me, revealing a drop that at least matched my height.
Yet even with the small size of the well, I was offered a promise of total mud and dampness. A cold breeze ushered up, accompanied by a whistle more appropriate for the top of a bell tower than the bottom of the world's tiniest well.
It was ghastly.
“This … This isn't a well! It's a trip hazard!”
“True. I bet a screaming, misbehaving child could fall down and their parents would never find out what happened until it's too late.”
“That's … well, yes … I suppose?”
Coppelia narrowed her eyes as she peeked into the shallow depths.
“Soooo … there were no dead bodies the last time we climbed down a well. There's no way that'll happen twice. I say you bet.”
“I'm not betting anything. For one thing, I'm not going down this … hole to find out. This is absurd. How is anyone even supposed to fit in this thing?”
And thus, I turned to the original source of my grief.
The signboard.
Here I was, trying to tax a castle on behalf of the Royal Treasury, and what I found instead was that an altogether lesser branch of government was trying to block passage to my royal duties!
I would not permit this!
“I am overruling whoever these glorified peasants masquerading as civil officials are. Clearly, they escape their hovels for one day and grow mad with power. No, this will not do. I have far too little time to waste with their bureaucracy.”
I swept past the signboard.
Already, I felt a moment of gratification. The displeasure of people who knew only to scribble with quills was not a treasure I expected to find today, but I'd accept it nonetheless.
“Come, Coppelia! We continue to the postern door.”
“Okie~ what about falling objects, though?”
I placed my hand to my side.
“You have nothing to fear. Rest assured that anything falling from the rooftop, Starlight Grace will readily dispatch!”
“Got it~”
“Once we've reached the hidden door, we can use this trail to our heart's content, weaving in and out of the castle like fleeting shadows. Every valuable and every coin will be ours to seize in the name of the Royal Treasury!”
“You mean burgle, right?” said my future handmaiden, who only followed me after several seconds had passed. “Because this is 100% burgling. And I love it. We should do more!”
“This isn't burgling. This is us executing a royal warrant for the seizure of assets deemed forfeit as a result of the Duchy of Aquina's major tax deficiencies.”
“Say, is there a princess school where they teach you how to reword crime to make it sound nicer, but also more ominous as well? Because I want to read the brochure.”
I shook my head ruefully.
“Not in the Kingdom of Tirea. Loath as I am to admit this, but only the Grand Duchy of Granholtz has a school dedicated to the education and training of princesses. It is a relic from a time when the individual duchies were kingdoms or principalities.”
“Huh. Really? I'm not sure how to feel about there actually being a princess school.”
“Envious, of course. Why, had my brutal training at the hands of my tutors been replaced by the gentle touch of the wisened scholars at the Royal Granholtz Academy of Etiquette and Arts, I'm certain that I'd be more inclined towards my studies. They see the value of painting and dance classes over the drudgery of mathematics. Isn't that wonderful?”
I glanced at Coppelia, just in time to see her pretend to nod in agreement.
Excellent. With skills like that, she already exceeded the capabilities of over 90% of the Royal Villa's staff.
“You're right. Painting and dancing. It sounds so fun, colourful and filled with life. Not dull like … eh, doing literally anything else.”
“Art is the expression of the soul,” I stated, parroting the words of my own art tutor back when I was still learning to dab pupils. “It's as exciting or dull as you wish it to be. Why, with a brush, you can create any world you desire.”
“Can you create a world of buffets? I haven't had a bite to eat other than all the apples I stole from the saddlebags when you weren't looking. What about a world of parfaits?”
I quietly groaned.
Each day, how to make tea was sliding further away from the priority spot, and that boded poorly for this clockwork doll's career prospects.
“I was rather hoping a fruit slime had snuck in when I wasn't looking.”
“In my defence, I did ask. Once. Maybe.”
“And when was that?”
“Just before we arrived in this town. I asked if I could eat some of the apples and you sort of nodded and drooled while snoring. I took that as a yes.”
My hands went to my mouth. I wiped away the drool that was no longer there.
Had I … Had I fallen asleep?!
While riding a horse?!
How was that even possible?!
True, I was the busiest person in the kingdom and was naturally fatigued, but even so!
To fall asleep atop a trotting horse was absurd! And to drool in broad daylight even more so! To date, I'd never drooled while sleeping, and any maid who said otherwise needed to look closely at the warning letter I handwrote upon firing them!
“If … If I'd fallen asleep, why wouldn't you have awoken me?!”
“I mean, I talked and you sort of answered, so you seemed okay.”
Suddenly, I could feel the world becoming hazy.
I'd talked?! While sleeping?! On a horse?!
What state secrets had I revealed under such questioning?! Had I divulged the numbers of our knights and soldiers?! The true extent of the kingdom's crippling finances?! The location of my hidden catalogue of adventure romance titles behind the shelf ostensibly for astronomy textbooks?!
I pursed my lips.
Very well. There was no other way.
As I couldn't fire someone I didn't employ yet, it meant that there was only one time-tested solution to this.
“What are your current bribery rates?”
“Very low. I have no standards whatsoever.”
“Will you accept one copper crown for your silence?”
“No, but I'll accept you valiantly saving me from the troll.”
We came to an abrupt halt.
“Good evening, madames,” said the 8 foot, lumbering mass of armoured hide and muscle. “Did you read the sign?”
The troll's eyes blinked down at us from behind his iron helmet.
Coppelia and I looked at each other.
“No,” we said.
The troll scratched his back with his club.
Usually, trolls didn't do that. I knew enough about Troll Country to know that their enchanted clubs were treated with the same pious respect that I treated Starlight Grace. Both were revered weapons powerful enough to strike down the most ardent of foes, carrying more worth than every other possession on our persons combined.
Therefore, the only reason why a troll would scratch their back with their club was if their other hand was already occupied.
“You should have read the sign,” said the troll, tugging the rope in his grip.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, the last light of evening was suddenly whisked away from my eyes.
But it wasn't because the sun had finally set.
I noted the growing shadow beneath me before looking up, just in time to see a very large object falling towards me.
Oh my.
A St. Liane piano.
And in mahogany, too? How rare. I had one of them at the Royal Villa.
The sound they made when played was excellent.
And strangely enough, so too did the sound they made as they fell.
“Sooooooooooooo ...”
Coppelia looked at a little wooden signboard stuck into a pile of stones.
I was quickly beginning to realise that every sign I saw would be the death of my patience.
CAUTION.
Due to threat of falling objects, the hidden path to Castle Aquina's postern door is currently sealed to all visitors.
Please use the alternate route through the well for direct entry into the interior keep.
Duchy of Aquina Health and Safety Commission.
Site last inspected 37th Yuletide 1402.
I was so close to abandoning everything.
Nothing had tested my resolve. Not shopkeepers fielding fireballs. Not cackling nobility. And not minotaurs trying to extort me for a price well below my worth.
This, however, was a new level of insult.
Beside Aquina Castle, which dominated the sea of diminutive cottages with a shadow wide enough to swallow the town whole, a discreet garden path could be found.
Invisible to anyone who wasn't acutely familiar with castle exits, it was a path that was expertly hidden behind a blossoming rhododendron bush.
Unguarded and away from prying eyes, this secluded area was the perfect staging ground for my well thought out plan to tax Duke Valence blind.
Not only did its gradual decline suggest direct access to one of the lower floors, but its very nature meant this area could be utilised as a dumping ground for any furniture I required Coppelia to confiscate. I'd maximise use of the Duke's own castle against him.
It was indeed perfect … all the way until Coppelia and I reached the wooden sign sought to disrupt our noble goals.
It was so ordinary that any glancing eyes would fail to see it. A plain, unembellished sign which could have been used to detail the arrangement of the orange and violet tulip shrubs behind it. And yet to me, it was now as aggravating as a sleeping dragon sent to block my path.
I was bewildered as much as I was infuriated.
This … This was no cliff at threat of erosion! It was no mountain troubled by landslides! What falling objects did I have to be concerned over?! Behind the sign, the path wound on next to the castle! The castle! Was a tower at risk of falling over?!
“This is utterly ridiculous!” I said, stabbing angrily at the wooden signboard with my fingertip. “The Duchy of Aquina Health and Safety Commission?!”
“Sounds like guys you wouldn't to mess with,” replied Coppelia. “I bet they can slap warning notices on your face faster than you can rip them off.”
The amusement of my future handmaiden came in the form of her ensuing giggle. I did not see the funny side in this.
“This is a hidden passage for use in highly clandestine meetings! Underhanded deals, midnight flights and daggers soaked in betrayal are found at the end of these paths! Why should falling objects be a concern?!”
“I mean, if a falling piano—”
“There are no falling pianos, Coppelia! And what alternate well do they even refer to?!”
Coppelia joined me as I started searching for a source of water.
After several moments, she walked over to another rhododendron bush and split it apart, revealing what was, without doubt, the smallest well in the Kingdom of Tirea.
I walked over and peered past Coppelia's shoulder.
It was scarcely a few bricks high, lacking a well cover, a bucket, a ladder, and any functionality whatsoever. Within the well, only the slightest shimmering of water greeted me, revealing a drop that at least matched my height.
Yet even with the small size of the well, I was offered a promise of total mud and dampness. A cold breeze ushered up, accompanied by a whistle more appropriate for the top of a bell tower than the bottom of the world's tiniest well.
It was ghastly.
“This … This isn't a well! It's a trip hazard!”
“True. I bet a screaming, misbehaving child could fall down and their parents would never find out what happened until it's too late.”
“That's … well, yes … I suppose?”
Coppelia narrowed her eyes as she peeked into the shallow depths.
“Soooo … there were no dead bodies the last time we climbed down a well. There's no way that'll happen twice. I say you bet.”
“I'm not betting anything. For one thing, I'm not going down this … hole to find out. This is absurd. How is anyone even supposed to fit in this thing?”
And thus, I turned to the original source of my grief.
The signboard.
Here I was, trying to tax a castle on behalf of the Royal Treasury, and what I found instead was that an altogether lesser branch of government was trying to block passage to my royal duties!
I would not permit this!
“I am overruling whoever these glorified peasants masquerading as civil officials are. Clearly, they escape their hovels for one day and grow mad with power. No, this will not do. I have far too little time to waste with their bureaucracy.”
I swept past the signboard.
Already, I felt a moment of gratification. The displeasure of people who knew only to scribble with quills was not a treasure I expected to find today, but I'd accept it nonetheless.
“Come, Coppelia! We continue to the postern door.”
“Okie~ what about falling objects, though?”
I placed my hand to my side.
“You have nothing to fear. Rest assured that anything falling from the rooftop, Starlight Grace will readily dispatch!”
“Got it~”
“Once we've reached the hidden door, we can use this trail to our heart's content, weaving in and out of the castle like fleeting shadows. Every valuable and every coin will be ours to seize in the name of the Royal Treasury!”
“You mean burgle, right?” said my future handmaiden, who only followed me after several seconds had passed. “Because this is 100% burgling. And I love it. We should do more!”
“This isn't burgling. This is us executing a royal warrant for the seizure of assets deemed forfeit as a result of the Duchy of Aquina's major tax deficiencies.”
“Say, is there a princess school where they teach you how to reword crime to make it sound nicer, but also more ominous as well? Because I want to read the brochure.”
I shook my head ruefully.
“Not in the Kingdom of Tirea. Loath as I am to admit this, but only the Grand Duchy of Granholtz has a school dedicated to the education and training of princesses. It is a relic from a time when the individual duchies were kingdoms or principalities.”
“Huh. Really? I'm not sure how to feel about there actually being a princess school.”
“Envious, of course. Why, had my brutal training at the hands of my tutors been replaced by the gentle touch of the wisened scholars at the Royal Granholtz Academy of Etiquette and Arts, I'm certain that I'd be more inclined towards my studies. They see the value of painting and dance classes over the drudgery of mathematics. Isn't that wonderful?”
I glanced at Coppelia, just in time to see her pretend to nod in agreement.
Excellent. With skills like that, she already exceeded the capabilities of over 90% of the Royal Villa's staff.
“You're right. Painting and dancing. It sounds so fun, colourful and filled with life. Not dull like … eh, doing literally anything else.”
“Art is the expression of the soul,” I stated, parroting the words of my own art tutor back when I was still learning to dab pupils. “It's as exciting or dull as you wish it to be. Why, with a brush, you can create any world you desire.”
“Can you create a world of buffets? I haven't had a bite to eat other than all the apples I stole from the saddlebags when you weren't looking. What about a world of parfaits?”
I quietly groaned.
Each day, how to make tea was sliding further away from the priority spot, and that boded poorly for this clockwork doll's career prospects.
“I was rather hoping a fruit slime had snuck in when I wasn't looking.”
“In my defence, I did ask. Once. Maybe.”
“And when was that?”
“Just before we arrived in this town. I asked if I could eat some of the apples and you sort of nodded and drooled while snoring. I took that as a yes.”
My hands went to my mouth. I wiped away the drool that was no longer there.
Had I … Had I fallen asleep?!
While riding a horse?!
How was that even possible?!
True, I was the busiest person in the kingdom and was naturally fatigued, but even so!
To fall asleep atop a trotting horse was absurd! And to drool in broad daylight even more so! To date, I'd never drooled while sleeping, and any maid who said otherwise needed to look closely at the warning letter I handwrote upon firing them!
“If … If I'd fallen asleep, why wouldn't you have awoken me?!”
“I mean, I talked and you sort of answered, so you seemed okay.”
Suddenly, I could feel the world becoming hazy.
I'd talked?! While sleeping?! On a horse?!
What state secrets had I revealed under such questioning?! Had I divulged the numbers of our knights and soldiers?! The true extent of the kingdom's crippling finances?! The location of my hidden catalogue of adventure romance titles behind the shelf ostensibly for astronomy textbooks?!
I pursed my lips.
Very well. There was no other way.
As I couldn't fire someone I didn't employ yet, it meant that there was only one time-tested solution to this.
“What are your current bribery rates?”
“Very low. I have no standards whatsoever.”
“Will you accept one copper crown for your silence?”
“No, but I'll accept you valiantly saving me from the troll.”
We came to an abrupt halt.
“Good evening, madames,” said the 8 foot, lumbering mass of armoured hide and muscle. “Did you read the sign?”
The troll's eyes blinked down at us from behind his iron helmet.
Coppelia and I looked at each other.
“No,” we said.
The troll scratched his back with his club.
Usually, trolls didn't do that. I knew enough about Troll Country to know that their enchanted clubs were treated with the same pious respect that I treated Starlight Grace. Both were revered weapons powerful enough to strike down the most ardent of foes, carrying more worth than every other possession on our persons combined.
Therefore, the only reason why a troll would scratch their back with their club was if their other hand was already occupied.
“You should have read the sign,” said the troll, tugging the rope in his grip.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, the last light of evening was suddenly whisked away from my eyes.
But it wasn't because the sun had finally set.
I noted the growing shadow beneath me before looking up, just in time to see a very large object falling towards me.
Oh my.
A St. Liane piano.
And in mahogany, too? How rare. I had one of them at the Royal Villa.
The sound they made when played was excellent.
And strangely enough, so too did the sound they made as they fell.
