Chapter 41: Mia the Professional Question-Asker

“Now then, let the student council be convened. Since this is our inaugural meeting, let’s consider this a simple meet-and-greet.”

Smiling cordially, Mia acknowledged the figures gathered in the room, her gaze shifting from person to person and finally settling on the object of greatest interest to her — the plates of exquisite sweets arranged in a circle on the table. Her smile grew wider.

“And... since we already know each other perfectly well, let’s move on to cutting the cake—”

“Excuse me, President Mia,” interjected a politely smiling Rafina, “but I believe there is value in observing such customs, even if it’s a mere formality.”

Mia gulped back the rest of her sentence.

“T-True. Well, in that case, let’s take turns briefly introducing ourselves and what we hope to accomplish in the student council...”

Thus began the meeting in earnest with Mia starting things off, followed by Rafina, Abel, and Sion. After the geopolitical equivalent of the Fantastic Four each delivered a concise and articulate description of themselves, Chloe and Tiona followed up with two more that were a tad diffident but still graceful. Last was Sapphias, whose face was rigid with nervous tension.

“I am deeply humbled and greatly honored to be invited to participate — however limited my capacity may be — in an association as prestigious as this. Though I fear I am unworthy of such privilege, as the most junior member present, I will nevertheless do everything in my power to live up to Her Highness’s expectations and ensure that her trust in me does not prove misplaced.”

After making the most stilted introduction of the group, he sat back down without pomp or pretense. Mia glanced at him with mild surprise.

Huh. That was actually a pretty sincere introduction. I guess even a Chaos Serpent wouldn’t just show up and declare war immediately.

That was about as far as she got in terms of focused observation before the presence of cakes in front of her again dealt a knockout blow to her concentration.

“Right then. Now that we’re done with the formalities, let’s—”

“Indeed. Let’s help ourselves to a bit of tea and cake while we discuss the budget.”

“...Eh?”

Mia liked the first part, but she definitely didn’t intend on doing it with the second part.

“We’ve gathered here all the estimates and requests that each club has submitted regarding their portion of the year’s budget,” continued Rafina. “Let’s go over them and come up with a rough framework.”

“Huh? U-Um, Miss Rafina? Shouldn’t we, you know... Leave that for later?”

Leave the budget for later, she meant.

“Oh, having a quick bite won’t get in the way of our talking. After all, when it comes to difficult things like working out numbers, sweets are of the essence, aren’t they?” Rafina smiled and shook an encouraging fist at her. “Let’s focus and get this finished.”

The room’s atmosphere had clearly been swayed by Rafina’s pep talk. Defeated by the grammatical ambiguity of her own suggestion, Mia had no choice but to comply.

“R-Right, it’s not much of a distraction, is it? I-I do want to get the budget over with quickly, too. Ohoho. Let’s get down to business then.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a surreptitious sigh as her fellow council members began their discussion. Mia, for her part, mostly kept to listening as she carefully snuck glances at the others. Whenever she noticed any hint of confusion on any of their faces, she’d immediately chime in with a question regarding the subject matter in question.

“Excuse me, Miss Rafina, but what exactly does this mean?”

Mia, you see, was aware of the importance of asking questions. Back in the previous timeline when she’d been working with Ludwig to deal with the numerous issues of the empire, she’d learned the hard way not to let questions stay questions. Allowing conversations to proceed uninterrupted through things she didn’t understand often resulted in a severe scolding down the line. Time after time, she’d be left sniffling after a frustrated Ludwig castigated her for doing things she didn’t understand and bungling the job.

Of course, it’d also be a problem if she kept asking extremely basic questions. There was an art to it; she had to ask only the questions that needed to be asked, or she risked eroding people’s trust in her competence. In this case, the barometer she used for determining the necessity of a question was the faces of the other members. Not just any member though. Sion was a lost cause — she wasn’t sure if his face was even capable of expressing incomprehension. Abel she thought of as smart and capable as well, so she similarly avoided using him as a reference. As for Chloe... something about her told Mia she was probably good with numbers, so she was out too. That left Tiona and Sapphias. Anything they didn’t understand was probably a reasonably difficult concept that warranted clarification. Therefore, whenever their brows furrowed in confusion, Mia would interrupt with a relevant question, then jot down both the issue and its answer.

...And Mia, as it turns out, was actually very good at asking questions. Returning again to the previous timeline, over and over again, she’d end up on the receiving end of Ludwig’s merciless snark. So bitter was the experience, in fact, that it was forever burned into her memory.

“It’s fine to ask questions, but please stop thoughtlessly asking everything that comes into your mind.”

“It’s clear that you don’t even know what you don’t know. Stop asking vague questions. You need to be more specific.”

Over and over again, she’d be reduced to a sniffling mess, teeth gritted in frustration and struggling to hold back tears as she suffered her admonishment. The Ludwig school of hard knocks, however, did do one good thing — it conferred upon her the ability to ask questions like a pro.

That’s right! Mia had matured into someone who did know what she didn’t know. It was one small step for mankind, perhaps, but one giant leap for Mia!

Meanwhile, Rafina, who’d been observing Mia this whole time...

Mia... You’re really serious about training Tiona and Sapphias, aren’t you?

...Found herself filled with heartfelt admiration for her friend. She’d noticed that ever since they began their discussion, Mia had been taking notes while paying close attention to the other two in question. Whenever something seemed like it wasn’t making sense to them, she’d ask simple questions to help them understand. Even though Rafina had a firm grasp on the topics she was talking about, it was still difficult for her to explain them to others in an easily digestible way. Mia, meanwhile, was attempting the far trickier task of asking targeted questions that would prompt Rafina to explain exactly what it was that the others weren’t understanding — and succeeding at it.

She avoided denting their pride but still infused them with knowledge. Masterful, Mia. Truly masterful.

Within Rafina, the speculative bubble of Mia’s greatness continued to grow. One could only hope that it would not eventually burst, causing the entire Mia-sconception economy to crash.

Some time after the conclusion of the student council meet-and-greet came a day when Anne and Lynsha were busy coordinating the handover of their job responsibilities, leaving Mia alone with Bel. Figuring it was a good chance to find out more about the future, she broached the subject with Bel, who scratched her head and said, “Oh, in that case, you should probably read the ‘Princess Mia Chronicles.’”

“...Why do I feel like I’ve heard of that before?”

She distinctly remembered seeing such a book mentioned in a paragraph of some history book she found in the library.

“...Princess Mia Chronicles, you say.”

“Yes. It’s an account of my grandmother’s life written by Mother Elise.”

According to Bel, when she woke up in the library, she quickly hid the book in the stacks so it wouldn’t be burned.

“I see. Hiding a tree in the forest, huh...”

At her prompting, the two of them made their way to the library.

“This way.”

Once there, Bel led her straight to the back, stopping in front of a shelf of books. It was the same shelf where she’d found the history book. Removing a number of thick tomes revealed a particularly weathered book that had been hidden behind them.

“There it is.”

Bel pulled it out and showed it to Mia. Though badly worn, the cover still proudly displayed its title — Princess Mia Chronicles. When she took it in her hands, a chill ran up her spine. It was as if an invisible miasma were emanating from the book, and she suddenly had a very bad feeling about what she was about to do. She really didn’t want to read the thing, but she’d come too far to simply bail. So, fighting down her gut’s desperate protests, she placed her hands on the book, steeled herself, and flipped it open.

She gasped so hard she almost passed out on the spot!

“Th-This is...”

Her horrified eyes bore witness to paragraph upon flowery paragraph of hair-raising, skin-crawling hyperbole that sang her praises. With every turn of the page, the adulation got more excessive, and her face grew more red — whether from shame or the breath she was still holding, she didn’t know — and she had the distinct sensation of her insides turning to jelly from shame. It was honestly a little scary. Finally, she regained enough control over her faculties to exhale and produce a coherent thought.

“H-Huh... This Mia person is, uh, quite something, isn’t she? It’s almost as if she’s a character from some made-up story.”

That was the only comment her still-recovering mind could muster.

“Ahaha, you’re so funny, Miss Mia. Of course she’s not made up. She’s standing right here,” said Bel, regarding Mia with the look of someone who definitely failed to differentiate between fiction and reality.

How in the moons is it even possible to think a person like this exists?! she thought, bewildered by the accounts in the book that depicted... some sort of superhero. Or maybe a mythological demigod. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t real-life Mia.

According to the Princess Mia Chronicles, this legendary individual named Mia Luna Tearmoon was a voracious reader who, ever since early childhood, had devoured over a dozen books a day, and her boundless wisdom allowed her to see hundreds or even thousands of years into the future. Faced with an empire teetering on the brink of financial ruin, she made sweeping policy changes to restore economic stability. Noble, honest, and unconcerned with material wealth, her virtuous character charmed even the winged horse of legend, who offered itself as her mount. She rode it with skill and grace, horse and rider twirling as one through the air in a dance as mesmerizingly beautiful as the moon goddess herself.

This... This is such nonsense! Everything except the mesmerizingly beautiful part is a complete lie! she thought, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the account’s falsehoods in a way that betrayed no awareness of the inherent irony.

And there’s more, like this part where it says I’m drowning at sea while being attacked by a megalodon, and I vanquish it by punching it in the nose?! I mean, like, what?!

That wasn’t even a feat of wisdom. She literally just flexed on a shark. As in, with pure muscle. Granted, sharks did have a lot of sensory organs concentrated near their nose, so knowing to smack it there was arguably a display of knowledge. Still, it was clearly a fictional account — the result of unbridled exaggeration. How did she know? Well, first of all, she couldn’t even swim.

It’s going to be a big problem if Bel thinks I’m some sort of superhuman like in this book.

“I’ll hold on to this,” she said, taking the book. “A book this dangerous, I can’t afford to have just lying around.”

It’d be a disaster if someone else got a peek at it.

That kind of humiliation would be fatal.

The last thing she wanted was for a new proverb to be created — embarrassment killed the princess. So, with the book held tight to her chest, she quickly made for the exit. The librarian stopped her before she left, but she freed herself from further questioning by claiming she was retrieving a book she previously forgot in the library. Reviewing the records showed no matching title, which lent credence to her claim. Her heart did skip a beat when the librarian glanced at the cover though.

“I swear, there’s something about a book having my name in its title that just feels wrong. I’d better have a word with Elise later...” muttered Mia as she walked back to her room.

“My?”

Upon arriving, she discovered a girl standing in front of her door.

The girl noticed her and curtsied.

“Ah, Princess Mia. How do you do?”

Her tanned skin, which radiated a healthy sheen, and jet black hair were characteristic traits of the people living in a country south of Tearmoon. Mia remembered her deep green eyes and charming smile.

“My, Miss Rania. You’ve certainly traveled a long way.”

Mia politely smiled back at the third princess of Perujin Agricultural Country, Rania Tafrif Perujin.

Now, a quick reminder, seeing as things have grown rather convoluted... Mia followed two guiding principles that dictated how she lived her life at Saint-Noel. The first was to stay away as much as possible from people who were associated with her gruesome fate at the guillotine. The second was to make connections with people who might prove useful in avoiding a repeat of said gruesome fate. The first had been bent so badly it was starting to crack, but she still had every intention of abiding by the second. The person before her, Rania, happened to be a rare case of her connection-making efforts actually paying off.

“In any case, come in.”