Aquina Castle was as disappointing as I thought it would be.
In all my memories of royal visits to our domains, Tirea's flag hung far and wide. Whether it be within the keeps of the countryside barony or the manors of the city lordships, I was guaranteed the warm view of my kingdom's colours flying whenever I woke up from my afternoon and sometimes evening nap.
Those were truly the most nostalgic of times.
To rise from my slumber within the warmth of the royal carriage, and to peer through the window at the sights of our loyal subjects bending backwards to accommodate our convoy of carriages rolling through their barns and sheds.
There was the laughter of my siblings. The grandstanding of our knights. The outrage of the peasantry. And most of all, the weeping of the nobility as they paid for all our expenses as we ensured they would forever lack the funds to take up arms against us.
In my memories, rows of retainers kowtowed before us, while stewards fought to be headhunted away from their countryside hovels. Often, the only problems we faced was finding a speck of wall which wasn't suitably furnished in the royal heraldry.
Now, wherever I looked, treason and a lack of nuance for interior design plagued my vision.
As Coppelia and I walked through the still corridors of Aquina Castle's lower floors, the welcoming committee which greeted us was the emptiness, the silence, and the utter lack of colour coordination.
No fashionable flag of the kingdom hung here in the heart of Aquina. The banners gracing the walls shone with mutinous contempt for any singular theme. And the portraits which adorned the walls didn't contain a single one of my great-great-great grandfather's handsome chin.
A travesty.
And one which would be repaid in full.
This wasn't an official visit. But that was hardly an excuse to allow standards to fall!
The dungeon I could let pass. Possibly. The rusty traps less so. But for our kingdom's flag to not liven the naturally dreary colours of Aquina Castle's stone corridors?
A slight which further demanded the Duke's immediate removal.
Indeed, as far as I could see, there was only one point of note in all of Aquina.
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
And that was the duck with several arrows stuck to its head.
That, I acknowledged, was somewhat original.
“You know what?” said Coppelia, keeping a respectful distance of mere inches as she eyeballed the waddling duck. “I think acid arrows might be the next big fashion statement. It gives the duck a bit of gravitas. Really stands out from the crowd.”
I looked at the back of the duck.
It waddled through the empty corridors, the still dripping acid merely rolling off its wings as though they were droplets of water. The only injury came to the scarf it wore, and the vibrant yellow of the beak.
Neither now remained.
Instead, a beak of pure crystal shone prominently against the torches on the walls, so delicate and pristine that I was considering requisitioning the duck as a mirror.
“Done before,” I replied. “It didn't last a season.”
“Eh?”
“Arrows in clothing.”
“No way. That can't have been a thing.”
I shook my head sadly.
Everything was a thing, especially when enough nobility with too little imagination and far too much free time gathered in one location.
“A lord from the Kingdom of Dunes sported several arrows in his attire during a prominent function in Lissoine. Trends are flights of fancy, and wearing arrows to a social gathering is certain to catch the attention of all the attendees at once.”
“Thus, a new trend of arrow fashion began?”
“No—failed assassinations.”
I shuddered as I recalled the scenes.
Simpering women in bright dresses and men in their doublet coats, all accompanied by various weaponry stuck to their clothing. Disgracing my hands by dancing with the sons and daughters of nobility was hard enough. To do so while avoiding the axe handle protruding from their chests even more so.
“It was eyeroll-worthy,” I said. “Anyone who brags about surviving assassinations is someone who isn't prominent enough to be bored of assassinations.”
“... Like yourself?”
“Like myself.”
Indeed, my last shoddy assassination attempt came mere weeks ago.
That one was particularly insulting. A diving albatross with nightshade essence laced in its claws. Not even a bird of prey. I was more threatened by the bird's poor texture than I was by its slow attack. Even asparagus with beurre blanc couldn't save it.
Why anyone would wish me dead, of course, was a mystery. I was not only the most beautiful soul in the kingdom, but also the most modest. There was nothing to dislike about me.
Alas, what I did mattered less than who I was, and agents of both foreign powers and scheming nobility doubtless thought they could advance their cause with one less princess vying for the throne.
If only they knew that their attempts on my life were as futile as their hopes of factions arising between my siblings.
“The irony that the nobility views common assassination attempts as a badge of honour is lost on them. Fortunately, the trend failed to have lasting power.”
“... Too crazy?”
“Too expensive. Hiring assassins to expertly pierce you with weapons without causing lasting harm becomes prohibitively costly as time wears on.”
Coppelia nodded, pretending to understand even a morsel of what I had to put up with each time I didn't immediately shoo a lowly baron away.
“That's wild,” she said simply.
“No, that's high fashion,” I answered. “And it's as demanding on personal finances as it is on conviction. Why, the trend may have won over the critics if the assassinations had worked. Those willing to die for their dress sense and wear it to their funeral are far more likely to enamour themselves than those who wish to remain alive and conscious.”
“Well, if you want to start a new trend, then now's the time to break out the socks with sandals. I'm pretty sure there's at least a 100% chance this duck is going to outright murder one of us.”
I raised an eyebrow. That was the extent of my reaction to most of her jests.
“Not only is socks with sandals a debasement of public decency worthy of a lifelong custodial sentence, but in the event that one of us perishes as we follow this highly suspicious bird, there's little guesswork as to who it would be.”
“Mmh, I'm definitely not arguing that~”
“Precisely, as my loyal future handmaiden, your duties are to rescue me, carry me, and laugh with me in that particular order.”
Coppelia spun around for no particular reason, skipping the step she'd fallen behind as she hummed in thought.
“What about shamelessly sponging off your wealth, your food and your status as I do the absolute minimum required to live the high life?”
“Really, Coppelia. That's something I expect of all my attendants. You're no different.”
“Yay~”
I smiled, satisfied that Coppelia was finally acclimatising herself to life as my future handmaiden.
“And as for the duck … well, I have no better indication of where to go in this hopelessly dull castle. And as long as it doesn't appear to be leading us into the maw of a dragon, then I have no reason to believe that fate hasn't merely sent a guide to send us along the right path. Clearly, this is no ordinary duck.”
“Well, the right path feels awfully like the cold path. It's getting chilly here. My cogs can feel it.”
I nodded. I could feel it also.
The inexcusably frigid temperature was becoming more evident with each step we took. Indeed, as we turned a corner, it was plain that the air wasn't merely becoming colder.
It was becoming icier.
We paused. Once more, I drew upon Starlight Grace's light.
Along this stretch of the corridor, the torches had all been extinguished to a creeping frost that covered them like cob webs. The dull banners and portraits of Aquina Castle were now painted over by a sheen which obscured the worst of the offenders.
Suddenly, we were no longer peering down a corridor, but a wintry cavern.
“Huh.” Coppelia tapped the image of a man whose moustache was being generously hidden by the forming ice with her knuckles. A satisfying dink rang out. “Someone forgot to feed their fire slimes.”
I nodded.
It happened on occasion. The Royal Villa was no exception. Although the result usually wasn't a carpet of crunching frost.
“Then the duck guides us correctly,” I said, taking minute steps forward. “We're nearing our destination.”
“The vault we'll be plundering to feed our extravagant lifestyle?”
“That. But also the Crown of Winter. Clearly, there are side effects to possessing an artifact representing one of the four hearts of the Fae Realm. Whoever could have known? Certainly not a moronic duke whose ancestors are now shivering in their graves.”
Coppelia clicked her fingers.
“Side effects … or opportunity? Imagine if you dunked the Crown of Winter into a tub of water.”
“I'm imagining it. And I'm not certain why.”
“Think about it! You'd be able to make ice on demand without a mage as your magic mule! You could use your sword to cut it up into little cubes and sell it with overpriced smoothies! In summer, you'd be raking in the crowns!”
“... Are you suggesting we use the most revered heirloom of the Winter Court as a mobile ice cube dispenser?”
Coppelia looked me dead in the eye.
“Yes.”
I gave it a moment's thought.
It wasn't the worst idea she'd proposed.
Even so—
“I'd also be inundated with angry fae as I tried to sleep. I care too much about my slumber to contend with that.”
“Booooo~”
“Boo indeed. With that, let's retrieve their lost crown so I can extort them for its return. It cannot be far.”
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
The duck quacked in agreement as it waddled along before us.
Despite the worsening chill, the bird didn't seem to notice as it traversed the icy carpet. And so we followed.
All the while I kept myself warm by considering how I'd be spending my tax proceeds.
Most would be reserved for my private enterprises in soap manufacturing and hero training. But a small amount would be needed for the troll that was now my responsibility.
Hmmmm.
Mother and Father will doubtless be surprised when he showed up. I'll have to write a letter forewarning them. Oh and perhaps also explain that Aquina was now under our direct governance and the Duke's revolt had been quelled. And maybe something about the lowlands and the royal capital too.
It was going to be a long letter.
Longer still, as I explained why the heart of our kingdom's most rebellious province was now covered in winter's wrath, and how this wasn't my fault.
The crunch of frost was now the padding against snow. But there was no fluffiness to it. Only a hard coldness as unremitting as the silence. The ceiling became noticeably closer to our heads. And just when I resigned myself to stooping like a peasant in a field, a large chamber opened up before me.
I came to a stop.
At last, I saw the first guards tasked with the defence of Aquina Castle's treasures.
They filled up the chamber. Dozens of men and women wielding glimmering halberds and full suits of armour decorated in the livery of Aquina's semi-prestigious Ducal Guard.
Here were the most loyal and experienced of Aquina's soldiers. Those that could not be spared for either pomp or sabre rattling. They were professionals tasked with the simple task of defending Aquina's wealth.
However, it was not their number or their armaments which caused me to pause.
After all, they were unlikely to harm me.
Because these guards were utterly frozen, their faces contorted with confusion, terror, grief or a combination of all three.
Whether on their knees, in the motion of fleeing, or simply stood upright, each of these members of the vaunted Ducal Guard spent their last moments of existence staring at their own fingertips dripping with icicles.
The Crown of Winter, I knew, was just ahead.
“La laa la, la la laaaa~ La la laaa, la laaa la~”
And given the haunting lullaby I could hear emanating around the chamber, I would be meeting more than just the royal headpiece.
I let out a small smile as a voice both sweet and feminine, yet ominous and unforgiving as the deepest winter washed over me.
After all, how could I not?
Ohohoho … because I so enjoyed being serenaded as I did whatever I pleased.
Indeed, neither the sight of so many soldiers frozen in anguish, nor the backdrop of a mysterious lullaby could ever stop me from taxing Aquina's treasury!
And that included whoever resided in it too!
Because if they were performing in public, then they needed to have the proper permit!
Thus, I held up Starlight Grace—and proceeded forward.
Aquina Castle was as disappointing as I thought it would be.
In all my memories of royal visits to our domains, Tirea's flag hung far and wide. Whether it be within the keeps of the countryside barony or the manors of the city lordships, I was guaranteed the warm view of my kingdom's colours flying whenever I woke up from my afternoon and sometimes evening nap.
Those were truly the most nostalgic of times.
To rise from my slumber within the warmth of the royal carriage, and to peer through the window at the sights of our loyal subjects bending backwards to accommodate our convoy of carriages rolling through their barns and sheds.
There was the laughter of my siblings. The grandstanding of our knights. The outrage of the peasantry. And most of all, the weeping of the nobility as they paid for all our expenses as we ensured they would forever lack the funds to take up arms against us.
In my memories, rows of retainers kowtowed before us, while stewards fought to be headhunted away from their countryside hovels. Often, the only problems we faced was finding a speck of wall which wasn't suitably furnished in the royal heraldry.
Now, wherever I looked, treason and a lack of nuance for interior design plagued my vision.
As Coppelia and I walked through the still corridors of Aquina Castle's lower floors, the welcoming committee which greeted us was the emptiness, the silence, and the utter lack of colour coordination.
No fashionable flag of the kingdom hung here in the heart of Aquina. The banners gracing the walls shone with mutinous contempt for any singular theme. And the portraits which adorned the walls didn't contain a single one of my great-great-great grandfather's handsome chin.
A travesty.
And one which would be repaid in full.
This wasn't an official visit. But that was hardly an excuse to allow standards to fall!
The dungeon I could let pass. Possibly. The rusty traps less so. But for our kingdom's flag to not liven the naturally dreary colours of Aquina Castle's stone corridors?
A slight which further demanded the Duke's immediate removal.
Indeed, as far as I could see, there was only one point of note in all of Aquina.
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
And that was the duck with several arrows stuck to its head.
That, I acknowledged, was somewhat original.
“You know what?” said Coppelia, keeping a respectful distance of mere inches as she eyeballed the waddling duck. “I think acid arrows might be the next big fashion statement. It gives the duck a bit of gravitas. Really stands out from the crowd.”
I looked at the back of the duck.
It waddled through the empty corridors, the still dripping acid merely rolling off its wings as though they were droplets of water. The only injury came to the scarf it wore, and the vibrant yellow of the beak.
Neither now remained.
Instead, a beak of pure crystal shone prominently against the torches on the walls, so delicate and pristine that I was considering requisitioning the duck as a mirror.
“Done before,” I replied. “It didn't last a season.”
“Eh?”
“Arrows in clothing.”
“No way. That can't have been a thing.”
I shook my head sadly.
Everything was a thing, especially when enough nobility with too little imagination and far too much free time gathered in one location.
“A lord from the Kingdom of Dunes sported several arrows in his attire during a prominent function in Lissoine. Trends are flights of fancy, and wearing arrows to a social gathering is certain to catch the attention of all the attendees at once.”
“Thus, a new trend of arrow fashion began?”
“No—failed assassinations.”
I shuddered as I recalled the scenes.
Simpering women in bright dresses and men in their doublet coats, all accompanied by various weaponry stuck to their clothing. Disgracing my hands by dancing with the sons and daughters of nobility was hard enough. To do so while avoiding the axe handle protruding from their chests even more so.
“It was eyeroll-worthy,” I said. “Anyone who brags about surviving assassinations is someone who isn't prominent enough to be bored of assassinations.”
“... Like yourself?”
“Like myself.”
Indeed, my last shoddy assassination attempt came mere weeks ago.
That one was particularly insulting. A diving albatross with nightshade essence laced in its claws. Not even a bird of prey. I was more threatened by the bird's poor texture than I was by its slow attack. Even asparagus with beurre blanc couldn't save it.
Why anyone would wish me dead, of course, was a mystery. I was not only the most beautiful soul in the kingdom, but also the most modest. There was nothing to dislike about me.
Alas, what I did mattered less than who I was, and agents of both foreign powers and scheming nobility doubtless thought they could advance their cause with one less princess vying for the throne.
If only they knew that their attempts on my life were as futile as their hopes of factions arising between my siblings.
“The irony that the nobility views common assassination attempts as a badge of honour is lost on them. Fortunately, the trend failed to have lasting power.”
“... Too crazy?”
“Too expensive. Hiring assassins to expertly pierce you with weapons without causing lasting harm becomes prohibitively costly as time wears on.”
Coppelia nodded, pretending to understand even a morsel of what I had to put up with each time I didn't immediately shoo a lowly baron away.
“That's wild,” she said simply.
“No, that's high fashion,” I answered. “And it's as demanding on personal finances as it is on conviction. Why, the trend may have won over the critics if the assassinations had worked. Those willing to die for their dress sense and wear it to their funeral are far more likely to enamour themselves than those who wish to remain alive and conscious.”
“Well, if you want to start a new trend, then now's the time to break out the socks with sandals. I'm pretty sure there's at least a 100% chance this duck is going to outright murder one of us.”
I raised an eyebrow. That was the extent of my reaction to most of her jests.
“Not only is socks with sandals a debasement of public decency worthy of a lifelong custodial sentence, but in the event that one of us perishes as we follow this highly suspicious bird, there's little guesswork as to who it would be.”
“Mmh, I'm definitely not arguing that~”
“Precisely, as my loyal future handmaiden, your duties are to rescue me, carry me, and laugh with me in that particular order.”
Coppelia spun around for no particular reason, skipping the step she'd fallen behind as she hummed in thought.
“What about shamelessly sponging off your wealth, your food and your status as I do the absolute minimum required to live the high life?”
“Really, Coppelia. That's something I expect of all my attendants. You're no different.”
“Yay~”
I smiled, satisfied that Coppelia was finally acclimatising herself to life as my future handmaiden.
“And as for the duck … well, I have no better indication of where to go in this hopelessly dull castle. And as long as it doesn't appear to be leading us into the maw of a dragon, then I have no reason to believe that fate hasn't merely sent a guide to send us along the right path. Clearly, this is no ordinary duck.”
“Well, the right path feels awfully like the cold path. It's getting chilly here. My cogs can feel it.”
I nodded. I could feel it also.
The inexcusably frigid temperature was becoming more evident with each step we took. Indeed, as we turned a corner, it was plain that the air wasn't merely becoming colder.
It was becoming icier.
We paused. Once more, I drew upon Starlight Grace's light.
Along this stretch of the corridor, the torches had all been extinguished to a creeping frost that covered them like cob webs. The dull banners and portraits of Aquina Castle were now painted over by a sheen which obscured the worst of the offenders.
Suddenly, we were no longer peering down a corridor, but a wintry cavern.
“Huh.” Coppelia tapped the image of a man whose moustache was being generously hidden by the forming ice with her knuckles. A satisfying dink rang out. “Someone forgot to feed their fire slimes.”
I nodded.
It happened on occasion. The Royal Villa was no exception. Although the result usually wasn't a carpet of crunching frost.
“Then the duck guides us correctly,” I said, taking minute steps forward. “We're nearing our destination.”
“The vault we'll be plundering to feed our extravagant lifestyle?”
“That. But also the Crown of Winter. Clearly, there are side effects to possessing an artifact representing one of the four hearts of the Fae Realm. Whoever could have known? Certainly not a moronic duke whose ancestors are now shivering in their graves.”
Coppelia clicked her fingers.
“Side effects … or opportunity? Imagine if you dunked the Crown of Winter into a tub of water.”
“I'm imagining it. And I'm not certain why.”
“Think about it! You'd be able to make ice on demand without a mage as your magic mule! You could use your sword to cut it up into little cubes and sell it with overpriced smoothies! In summer, you'd be raking in the crowns!”
“... Are you suggesting we use the most revered heirloom of the Winter Court as a mobile ice cube dispenser?”
Coppelia looked me dead in the eye.
“Yes.”
I gave it a moment's thought.
It wasn't the worst idea she'd proposed.
Even so—
“I'd also be inundated with angry fae as I tried to sleep. I care too much about my slumber to contend with that.”
“Booooo~”
“Boo indeed. With that, let's retrieve their lost crown so I can extort them for its return. It cannot be far.”
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
The duck quacked in agreement as it waddled along before us.
Despite the worsening chill, the bird didn't seem to notice as it traversed the icy carpet. And so we followed.
All the while I kept myself warm by considering how I'd be spending my tax proceeds.
Most would be reserved for my private enterprises in soap manufacturing and hero training. But a small amount would be needed for the troll that was now my responsibility.
Hmmmm.
Mother and Father will doubtless be surprised when he showed up. I'll have to write a letter forewarning them. Oh and perhaps also explain that Aquina was now under our direct governance and the Duke's revolt had been quelled. And maybe something about the lowlands and the royal capital too.
It was going to be a long letter.
Longer still, as I explained why the heart of our kingdom's most rebellious province was now covered in winter's wrath, and how this wasn't my fault.
The crunch of frost was now the padding against snow. But there was no fluffiness to it. Only a hard coldness as unremitting as the silence. The ceiling became noticeably closer to our heads. And just when I resigned myself to stooping like a peasant in a field, a large chamber opened up before me.
I came to a stop.
At last, I saw the first guards tasked with the defence of Aquina Castle's treasures.
They filled up the chamber. Dozens of men and women wielding glimmering halberds and full suits of armour decorated in the livery of Aquina's semi-prestigious Ducal Guard.
Here were the most loyal and experienced of Aquina's soldiers. Those that could not be spared for either pomp or sabre rattling. They were professionals tasked with the simple task of defending Aquina's wealth.
However, it was not their number or their armaments which caused me to pause.
After all, they were unlikely to harm me.
Because these guards were utterly frozen, their faces contorted with confusion, terror, grief or a combination of all three.
Whether on their knees, in the motion of fleeing, or simply stood upright, each of these members of the vaunted Ducal Guard spent their last moments of existence staring at their own fingertips dripping with icicles.
The Crown of Winter, I knew, was just ahead.
“La laa la, la la laaaa~ La la laaa, la laaa la~”
And given the haunting lullaby I could hear emanating around the chamber, I would be meeting more than just the royal headpiece.
I let out a small smile as a voice both sweet and feminine, yet ominous and unforgiving as the deepest winter washed over me.
After all, how could I not?
Ohohoho … because I so enjoyed being serenaded as I did whatever I pleased.
Indeed, neither the sight of so many soldiers frozen in anguish, nor the backdrop of a mysterious lullaby could ever stop me from taxing Aquina's treasury!
And that included whoever resided in it too!
Because if they were performing in public, then they needed to have the proper permit!
Thus, I held up Starlight Grace—and proceeded forward.
