Chapter 42: Mia Knows that Cake and Bread are Both Made From Wheat

Perujin Agricultural Country was located to the southeast of the Tearmoon Empire. Consisting mostly of farmland, Perujin was largely inhabited by people who worked in agriculture, making them a prime target of ridicule for many Tearmoon nobles, who looked upon the populace as the descendants of serfs and the country as a mere vassal state of the empire.

Not Mia, though. Mia knew that if imports of agricultural produce from Perujin stopped, Tearmoon would immediately be faced with a crisis. She also knew that in dire times, the most valuable thing wasn’t beautiful silk or precious gems; it was crops. Crops that could be turned into food to fill empty stomachs.

That’s right, I know... I know that bread and cake are actually both made from wheat!

Never again would she tell people to eat cake when they have no bread. She’d done that in the previous timeline and was treated to a profoundly contemptuous glare from Ludwig. She had no intention of repeating the experience. It followed, then, that she’d display the utmost respect toward Rania. When it came to a princess from Perujin, there was no room for a lapse in courtesy.

“Please excuse my unannounced visit, Princess Mia. I’m terribly sorry for imposing upon you so suddenly.”

“It’s no matter. The only problem is that Anne is out at the moment, so I can’t offer you some tea...”

At that, Bel perked up.

“Ah, Miss Mia, let me go get her, then.”

“Oh? How nice of you to do that, Bel.”

“Ehehe.”

Mia regarded the enthusiastic grin on Bel’s face for a second, and then it clicked.

Aha. So that’s it. The girl’s had a thing for sweetened hot milk lately. Drinking too much of it is probably bad for her, so Anne’s been cutting her off. I bet she intends to use this as a chance to get a cup for herself. The sneaky little rascal, I wonder who she gets it from...

Despite seeing through Bel’s scheme, she didn’t stop her from going. The reason was simple; Mia wanted some, too. Thus formed an impromptu alliance in which grandmother and granddaughter plotted together to circumvent the watchful eye of Anne.

Rania watched as Bel nodded politely at her before leaving the room. Then she giggled.

“How adorable. Was that your sister?”

“Uh, yes, you could say that, I guess. Anyway, what brings you here today?”

Mia motioned for Rania to sit down before pulling a chair out for herself across the table. There was a brief span of silence after they were both seated, during which Rania seemed to chew over her thoughts before voicing them.

“It’s... about my older sister, actually. The second princess.”

“The second princess, you say...”

Mia gave her head a curious tilt as she began searching through her mental filing cabinet.

Rania’s second older sister... What was her name again? Uhhh... I think it started with A? Or maybe B? Wait... C? D? E? After exhausting her alphabetical choices, she decided she was right the first time. It was definitely A. Yes, her name started with A. A... A...

“A... Arshia Tafrif Perujin? I believe?”

“Yes. I’m honored that you know about her,” said Rania with an exuberant smile.

Mia smiled back, feeling equally exuberant. The experience of accurately recalling a name from long ago was profoundly satisfying, akin to scratching a longstanding itch.

Ludwig did say it’s important to make an effort to remember things. I think he’s got a point.

If nothing else, it could at least help her ward off indolence-induced early-onset senility.

“My sister Arshia spent six years here at Saint-Noel, learning as much as she could about her specialty. She studied her heart out, all because she wanted to make her country more prosperous. But Father made no attempt to recognize her efforts. He said he’d rather find a nation that could further Perujin’s interests and marry her off there to improve relations with them...”

“Hmm, I see.”

Such arrangements were by no means rare. It was the norm for marriages among royalty. The nation’s future was a persistent consideration while sifting through the aristocrats of foreign — and preferably more affluent — kingdoms for desirable mates. This was, by and large, how they approached marriages, and it was certainly a more prevalent mindset than attempting to further national interest through one’s own skills or academic prowess.

Hm... I mean, I can certainly see where her father’s coming from. It’s quite understandable. Which means...

The fact that Rania showed up here was definitely a sign of trouble. She could smell it in the air. Her eyes narrowed and she shot a wary glance at her Perujin guest.

“Well, you’ve certainly told me a lot about your sister. I presume there is some reason you did so?”

“She tried so hard. I just don’t want her efforts to go to waste. Is there some way you can... maybe speak to Miss Rafina? And ask if my sister can work at Saint-Noel? If she can prove her worth here, she might be able to get Father to reconsider.”

Aha. I figured this would be about something like that.

Mia crossed her arms and let out a long hmph of contemplation. Her relationship with Rania was undoubtedly something she valued, and she honestly wanted to lend her a helping hand. However, it would be folly for her to do so and earn the Perujin king’s resentment as a result.

If I want to help Rania with this, I’ll have to figure out some way to prevent the Perujin king from thinking badly of me along the way...

“I can certainly speak to Miss Rafina. That’s no problem, but...” she murmured, her tone pensive, before looking up at Rania. “By the way, what did your sister study here?”

“Oh, she specialized in botany. I know my opinion isn’t the most objective, but I really do think she’s very good at it. All her grades were excellent.”

“Botany, you say... I see...”

It would be a good deal later when Mia would recall those words of Rania’s and realize their relevance. At the present moment, her thoughts were interrupted by the return of Bel, who arrived with some steaming hot milk. And as if that wasn’t distracting enough, Anne would then appear soon after, panic clear on her face and a letter from the empire clutched tightly in her hand.