Chapter 7: Schadenfreude... Mia Style

After a period of pleasant conversation in the priest’s office, Anne entered.

“Excuse me, milady. Ludwig is here.”

She showed him in, whereupon he promptly bowed to Mia.

“Forgive my tardiness, Your Highness. I’m terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Mia waved away his apology. “It’s fine. I know you’re a busy man with plenty on his plate. Besides, it’s no problem, because I’ve already settled the matter.”

She huffed out a smug breath through her nose. It was the kind of thing that an objective observer would find irritating, but Ludwig responded with only deepened reverence.

“I see. Your Highness has already secured the support we need. Your brilliance never fails to amaze. By the way...who might that be?”

“Ah, this is the girl I told you about in the letter. She’s my younger sister from a different mother. Oh, do keep this a secret please. You too, Father.”

At her prompting, the priest nodded his promise. With confidentiality established, she relaxed and pushed Bel out in front of her.

“All right, Bel. Go ahead and introduce—”

“Mr. Ludwig, it’s really you... My teacher...”

The words escaped Bel before Mia could finish. The younger girl uttered them as though in a trance. In the quiet interior of the office, everyone heard her loud and clear.

“Hm? Teacher? I don’t remember teaching you.”

Ludwig gave her a dubious look. Mia, meanwhile, was frozen in shock.

...Seriously?! Right off the bat?!

She’d come to expect a certain degree of absentmindedness from her granddaughter, but fumbling so hard on the first thing she said was a new low. Even Bel seemed to realize how big a blunder it was, and after some frantic stammering said, “N-Never mind! Pretend I didn’t say that!”

With that completely ineffectual statement, she fell silent. Mia resisted the urge to press her face into her palm. The only ones who might be fooled by something like that were Anne’s family. And even then, probably only her youngest siblings.

Well then. Time for some damage control. I’ll have to make up some sort of explanation.

After a burst of high-intensity brain work, she had her excuse.

“Uh... Oh, you see, I actually told her to call you that. I figured there are plenty of things you can teach her, and this might get her into the mindset of learning from you.”

In classic Mia fashion, she resorted to flattery. Everybody loved a good compliment, after all, and men were particularly weak to having their work praised. So she put Anne’s old advice to use and laid on the honey, simultaneously employing the conversational strategy of “Never give up the talking stick.” After all, if nobody could get a word in, nobody could refute her.

“Your knowledge and expertise are very valuable, and I have no doubt they’ll be useful to her in the future, so I instructed her to address you as her teacher. The mindset is important, right? It’s all about habit. If she calls you her teacher, she’ll see you as her teacher, and then you are her teacher. In fact, now that we’re on the topic, why don’t you consider teaching a few classes at the academy yourself?”

When she finally finished, there was a brief pause before Ludwig lowered his gaze and shook his head.

“Your Highness’s trust is deeply flattering, but unfortunately, I’m hardly worthy of the title of teacher.” He turned to Bel. “Miss Bel, I am but Ludwig. Nothing more, nothing less. Please refer to me as so.”

“My, how terribly modest of you. I, for one, think very highly of your abilities.”

Considering she relied on him for pretty much every step of every significant undertaking, “think very highly of” was a vast understatement, and she said it with the air of a patron who was feeling particularly generous with her compliments that day, whereas the actual dynamic between them was probably closer to a complete and one-sided dependency. Nevertheless, no one was in a position to point out the discrepancy.

“I, of course, appreciate the positive appraisal, but whenever I think of my own master... When I compare myself to him, I cannot help but feel myself lacking in every respect. To teach is to be master to another, and the title ill suits my middling talent,” he said with a wry shrug. “Granted, this is but a personal fixation, but I suspect that if Your Highness met my master in person, you would share my opinion.”

“Would I now... Hm? Does that mean...”

“Yes. I have located him,” he declared, expression brightening in a rare display of genuine glee.

“My! That was quick. Good job.”

“Thank you very much. In fact, when I requested for Your Highness’s return, I also asked a fellow student who studied under my master for help determining his whereabouts. He’s found him much earlier than I’d anticipated.”

“A fellow disciple? How nice of him to do that for us. You should introduce him to me sometime.”

Mia’s mood grew increasingly exuberant. Things were proceeding so smoothly that it seemed like all her problems were going to solve themselves. She already had Princess Arshia from Perujin. Now she also had lecturers being sent by the Church, along with Ludwig’s master and all the people who’d flock to him and his reputation...

“Well then. I think this problem is as good as solved,” said an exceedingly optimistic Mia.

Meanwhile, Ludwig’s expression darkened.

“Not exactly. If anything, now comes the hardest part.”

“Hm? What do you mean? All you have to do is talk to that master of yours and ask him to help us out, right?”

Ludwig shook his head before speaking with a reluctant grimace.

“It’s...not that simple. My master is... Well, he’s not exactly fond of nobles. Loathes them, in fact. It’s not going to be easy to get him on board with Your Highness’s academy city project.”

“Oh, I see.”

Mia nodded. That explained why he wasn’t under the influence of the Greenmoons. If he fundamentally despised nobles, it didn’t matter how hard they’d tried to sway him; he wouldn’t have had any of it.

“He’s very stubborn about it too. Convincing him to change his mind...” Ludwig winced at the thought, “is definitely going to be an uphill battle.”

“Wow. That does sound like a real headache,” replied Mia in that tone one took when feigning empathy for another’s troubles. And the empathy was definitely feigned, considering...

Oh, Ludwig, Ludwig, Ludwig...how the tables have turned on you and your four eyes. After all that scolding you did in the previous timeline, it’s time for me to watch as you grovel before your master. Considering he traumatized you so much you can’t even bring yourself to use the same title as him, this is going to be one heck of a show. My, what a terribly satisfying experience this will be!

She beamed at him, relishing the schadenfreude. Unfortunately for her, she had no way of knowing what happened to the last fellow who’d laughed at Ludwig’s misery. The man was still suffering the consequences to this day. Indeed, what goes around comes around, and in Mia’s case, karma decided to upgrade her to next-second delivery for free.

“My condolences, Your Highness, but seeing as it is an impossible feat for me, I must nevertheless burden you with the task.”

“...Huh?”

“It is, after all, why I requested your return in the first place. Please, Your Highness. With all your sage wisdom, please convince my master to join our cause.”

“...What?”

She stared at him, mouth agape.

“C-Convince your master? Who? Me?”

“Yes.”

Their eyes met. There was no humor in his.

He’s...not really the type to joke about this kind of thing, so... Wait, does that mean... He’s serious?

Her brain struggled to process this sudden development.

“U-Uh, Ludwig, could you maybe tell me a little more about your master?”

She decided to try and buy herself some more time to wrap her head around what had just happened.

“Of course. Let me see...” He nodded assent and crossed his arms. “My master is...a stern individual. I’ve heard that there have been aspiring students who went to him, only to have their wills shattered and to be sent home in despondency after a single day. I myself have been subject to his scolding and afterward found it difficult to stomach even a light meal for days.”

...You have got to be kidding me.

A good three-quarters of her motivation evaporated at his first sentence, never mind the rest of the description.

“He is well-versed in all forms of knowledge, which is both a prerequisite and a product of his quest to elucidate the laws and mechanisms that govern our world. Should he wish to learn the art of war, he would go to former battlegrounds and run around with a spear in hand. Should he wish to study the mind of man, he would visit markets and taverns and mingle indiscriminately with the people there. In his desire to know the effects of poisons, he’s taken diluted doses himself, and once collapsed from doing so. Which did not stop him. He is a free spirit, traveling from one place of interest to the next, whereupon he distills all that he sees, hears, and feels into new knowledge that he then makes his own. Many in our circles refer to him as the Wandering Wiseman.”

The guy’s a straight up nutjob! Sweet moons, how am I supposed to convince someone like that? This is not going to work!

A further three-quarters of her motivation melted away. Frankly, he sounded like a complete weirdo, and she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Even so, she managed to say with a strained smile, “Ah. I, uh...see. He certainly sounds...like a very smart individual.”

“Indeed. In terms of sheer volume of knowledge, I doubt there is anyone in the empire who can surpass him. Furthermore, he is also a superb educator, and I still remember how he nurtured us, at times harshly, at times gently, but always with the goal of teaching us more.”

Sometimes harsh, sometimes gentle, huh. I see, I see, thought Mia as she digested his words. So he’s got a whole carrot-and-stick thing going. When he gets tired of using the stick, he starts hitting you with the carrot. Keeps switching it up so the suffering stays fresh.

She considered this uniquely sadistic method of torture, imagining its metaphorical beatings of both organic and inorganic means, and shuddered in horror; it seemed like the kind of thing to leave a permanent traumatic mark. It goes without saying, of course, that at this point, not a shred of Mia’s motivation remained. In fact, she’d lost more motivation than she’d had at the outset. She was in motivation debt! Seeing as going to speak with Ludwig’s master was now literally the last thing she wanted to do, she voiced her dissent—diplomatically worded, of course.

“C-Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t it be, um, problematic to have such an eccentric individual as headmaster?” she asked, shooting Ludwig a glance that said Think of the children!

A lesson with the man sounded pretty traumatizing, and she figured there were plenty of kids who’d share her opinion. It seemed a better idea to find someone else, and she conveyed her concern through her expression. Ludwig, having ostensibly comprehended her silent message, gave her a placating smile.

“Your Highness’s concern is certainly understandable. However, rest assured that the academy will be in good hands. My master is frequently stern, but never without good reason. For example, when his pupils don’t make an effort to think or ask a question that, with some deliberation, they could have answered themselves, his admonishment is swift and merciless.”

Ah. That sounds exactly like the kind of person I’d imagine to be Ludwig’s master. Realizing that he wasn’t going to change his mind, she regarded him with a despairing expression. Maybe you’re different, you stupid four-eyes, but for some people, it doesn’t matter how good a motivation you have. When you say mean things to them, they get hurt.

And having it shoved in your face when you already knew you were wrong was even worse.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” said Ludwig, noticing her increasingly grim expression. “With your gifts, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble keeping up with him. Rather, he might be the only person in this world who can hold a conversation with Your Highness on even footing. I suspect you’ll find him to be someone you can truly connect with on an intellectual level.”

I do not need to connect with a wackjob like him! It’s hard enough to deal with someone with your smarts, and now you want me to talk to someone even smarter? No way! I won’t have any idea what he’s talking about. And then there’s all this talk about him being stern and scary... Ugh, he sounds downright awful! I want nothing to do with him!

Mia was having second thoughts about this idea. And third thoughts. And fourth. After all, even if she somehow successfully persuaded the man, the story didn’t end there. He’d become headmaster of her academy, which meant she’d have to deal with him on a constant basis ad infinitum. Ludwig was bad enough, and this man was apparently more Ludwig than Ludwig. It honestly sounded like some sort of nightmare scenario dreamt up by a particularly torturous writer.

“Oh, but didn’t you say he hated nobles? Doesn’t that rule me out as a good candidate?”

“No. My master hates arrogant nobles who lack courtesy, as well as pigheaded nobles who make no attempt to step beyond the bounds of established norms and beliefs. Your Highness is neither of these.”

“I-Is that so? I don’t know. I, uh, can be pretty hardheaded too, sometimes. See?”

She gave her head a few knocks to prove her point.

“Ha ha, I’m sure you can,” he replied with amused irony, having taken it as a joke.

Bel and the priest clearly thought the same, and they joined him in his laughter. Even Anne smiled at her, humor seeping into her gentle eyes. An air of mirth descended upon the room, and for a moment, everybody shared in its warmness.

Everybody except one, that is.

Wh-What in the moons is so funny?! Stop laughing! Do you people enjoy seeing me suffer?!

Mia’s state of mind was something more akin to desperation, and it took an enormous effort of will to stop herself from screaming her frustration at the roomful of people who apparently found her plight endlessly amusing. Her desperation soon turned to despair as she sensed the unmistakable air of finality in the room. The discussion was done. Like it or not, she was going to meet the man.

I see... I won’t be talking myself out of this one anymore... My fate is sealed, she thought, feeling like a lamb who’d just clued in to her impending slaughter.

Faced with this terrible truth, Mia chose...acceptance. Why spend the energy resisting if it was inevitable? So, she resigned herself to her fate—specifically, she resigned her body to her chair, sinking into it like a deflating balloon. Just then, a cup of tea appeared before her.

“Miss Mia, try some of this black tea. It’s sweet and smells lovely.”

“Ah... Okay...” She complied with the request and took a sip. “Mm... You’re right. It’s very good.”

The tea flowed through her mouth, leaving behind a lingering sweetness...as well as a touch of saltiness for some reason.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll excuse myself then.”

That was when her dazed brain finally registered the voice that had spoken to her. It was a youthful voice, and it belonged to none of the people in the room.

Wait a minute! Who just handed me this tea?!

Her face shot up and she scanned the room before whirling toward the door, where she discovered a young girl who was about to leave. The girl looked a few years younger than her and was probably one of the orphans who lived here. In her, Mia saw a thin ray of hope.

“Hold on! You— Yes, you at the door. Could you come here for a minute?”

“Um, me?”

Mia put on a disarming smile as the girl approached her.

The orphanage in the Newmoon District taught its children how to read and write, as well as basic arithmetics. All orphanages of the Central Orthodox Church followed the same basic curriculum, and the quality of the education they provided was at least conscientious, if not outstanding. It was, all in all, an honest endeavor from the Church to prepare the children as well as they could so that when they left their orphanage, they could survive on their own. Despite their best efforts, however, not every child who stepped out into the world found happiness. The young girl Selia, who was taken in by a merchant family upon aging out, was one such example.

Selia was the best student at her orphanage. A proactive learner, she always took her studies seriously. So diligent were her studying habits that everyone in her orphanage agreed that if she ever went to an advanced school, she would surely become a great scholar. Sadly, their prediction never came to pass. In the merchant family that took her in, there was no happiness to be found. Of course, having food to eat, clothes to wear, and a roof over her head were no small fortunes. For an orphan who grew up in the slums, those might very well represent the greatest luxuries she could aspire to. Greed, after all, knew no limits, but desire had to be tempered by reality.

“What more do I want? I should be satisfied. At least I can live like a person instead of a dog...”

Time and again, she whispered those words to herself. Time and again, they fell over her heart, an ashen layer growing ever thicker that eventually obscured her feelings from her own mind. She stopped thinking about it.

She gave up.

So, she lived the life she’d been given, her budding intelligence trampled by her own pacifying words. Their seeds would find no fertile soil, and the wisdom contained within—a wisdom that, had it been given the water of opportunity, might have sprouted into countless wonders—was doomed to rot in obscurity.

The years wore on, and one day, an aged Selia lying ill in bed—the spark of her intelligence long since doused by a lifetime’s worth of storm and stress—looked back on the road she’d taken. There was regret; there was no doubt of that. But what she felt even more deeply was a withered resignation.

“What choice did I have? I’m an orphan. Orphans...should be thankful to be dying in a bed.”

Soon after, she closed her eyes, and the last sliver of her wilted life wasted away.

...That was the dream Selia woke from. The pallid light of dawn reflected off the pale walls of the orphanage, making her room look all the bleaker. She curled up in her bed, feeling the weight of despair pressing down on her heart. All her hard work and effort...none of it would matter in the end. She didn’t want to believe it. The studying... The diligence... The nightly struggle to stay awake and read just one more page... It was all an attempt to fight back. To prove her own suspicions wrong. But the more she tried, the more her path narrowed...and the more she despaired at the dead end that was rapidly coming into view.

Then, she appeared. The Princess of Tearmoon and shining symbol of the empire’s glory, Mia Luna Tearmoon—benefactress of not only the orphanage but the whole Newmoon District—came to visit. A nun told Selia to bring the princess some tea, so she did, paying the utmost attention to ensure she carried out the task without the slightest blunder. Afterward, when she was about to leave the room, she was suddenly spoken to—by the princess herself, no less.

“Hold on! You— Yes, you at the door. Could you come here for a minute?”

“Um, me? D-Did I do something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I was thinking it’d be useful to hear the opinion of someone on the receiving end of such things.”

The princess’s eyes lingered on her for a second, as if in silent and urgent appeal, before reverting to a smiling gaze.

“Tell me something. When you’re learning, you’d prefer to be taught by a nice, friendly teacher, right?”

“...What do you mean?”

“You’re the girl who was doing all that writing practice in class earlier, right? I saw how focused you were. That kind of studying takes a lot of effort, and I was wondering where you find the motivation. I assume it’s because the nun doing the teaching is a nice lady, so you’re happy to listen to what she says, right? Now imagine, if you will, a different nun teaching you...but she’s really strict. Whenever you make a mistake, she’ll make sure you know. She’s not unfair about it, since you did actually make the mistake, but she has no mercy and will drive the point home by telling you just how wrong you were. With a teacher like that, you won’t be nearly as motivated to learn, right?” said Mia in the kind of tone usually reserved for spooky campfire stories.

“Let’s say you’re allowed to go to a school for free, but the teachers there are really really strict. Would you go? And keep studying, no matter how hard it is and how much you’re scolded? Wouldn’t there be a day when you decide you’ve had enough and just run away?”

“...I don’t care.”

Selia was surprised to hear her own voice—doubly so by the edge it contained.

“I don’t care how hard it is. Or how much they scold me. As long as they’ll teach me... As long as there’s hope...I don’t care about fairness or mercy. I want to learn. To know there’s hope. Even the faintest ray. As long as I can still see it, I’ll keep going.”

In her mind, Selia looked up at the great obstacle looming over her. It was no mountain; it was a wall. Just a wall—simple, immaculate, and entirely unmoving. There were no handholds, no cracks for her to grip. Unscalable and unbreakable. Like cruelty incarnate, it existed solely to stand in her way as a cold, emotionless, and insurmountable barrier. Were it a mountain, she could climb it. Steep as it might be, there was still hope of reaching its peak. A wall, not so. Faced with its relentless vertical smoothness, she could but sit and sob in its shadow.

To her, the answer to Mia’s question was self-evident. No matter how precipitous the climb, so long as it was a mountain... She might stumble. She might be injured. She might even die falling off a cliff. But she would do so with hope. The peak would always be there, and reaching it would always be possible. That knowledge alone was enough to keep her going.

She met Mia’s gaze, then looked down at the ground and clenched her fists.

“If I’m allowed to go to school, I’ll stay there, no matter how hard it is. Being put in an environment where you can learn and choosing not to do so... I think that’s inexcusable.”

Only after the reverberations of her voice faded did it fully dawn on her that what she just said amounted to lecturing the Princess of Tearmoon. The color drained from her face, and she rushed to apologize, only to have her words lodge in her throat when she looked up to see the tears welling up in Mia’s eyes.

“Then I expect you...to do exactly as you said.”

“Huh?”

“I swear upon my name, girl, that if I successfully bring in a really really strict headmaster, then I’m enrolling you in my school. And I’m going to have you study directly under that headmaster.”

“Huh? Wai— What?”

“You said you wanted to learn,” Mia said in a trembling voice as she placed a hand on the young girl’s shoulder and squeezed hard. “Then take responsibility for those words.”

For a long time, Selia could do nothing but stare, mouth agape and mind blank at the path that had suddenly opened up before her.

Ludwig, who’d been observing this exchange nearby, heard the emotion in Mia’s voice and found himself moved by her response.

I see that Her Highness will always be Her Highness... She is a woman of compassion. That never changes.

The orphan girl’s plight must have resonated with her. He watched as she turned to him and declared, “And you’re going to help, Ludwig. If we’re doing this, then we’re doing this together, so you’re coming with me!”

To him, her command sounded more like a commitment to harden her own resolve. Knowing the harsh rigor with which their potential headmaster would operate, she must have felt hesitant to subject children to such a demanding education. However, the determination displayed by their first orphan student must have pushed her to match the girl’s grit.

“Of course, Your Highness. I will do everything in my power to help.”

A renewed sense of purpose and fulfillment washed over him, reminding him again how fortunate he was to be serving under Mia.

Now, for anyone else watching these events unfold, it should be plainly obvious that Mia was not, in fact, moved by Selia’s display of resolve. Rather, she really didn’t want to see Ludwig’s master and had made a last-ditch effort to claw her way out of this arrangement. Seeing Selia appear, she pounced on the opportunity she presented in the hopes that the opinion of a potential student would turn the tide in her favor.

For Mia, it was common sense that studying was, in general, not an activity to be engaged in proactively. As princess, she had an obligation to endure some amount of schooling, but she certainly wasn’t going to go out of her way to seek it, especially if it came with promises of stern, lecture-happy teachers. If she had to learn, she’d much prefer her education be delivered in a gentle, leisurely fashion. Consequently...

If I tell this girl what the school’s going to be like, she’ll probably hate the thought of going. Commoners don’t need much education anyway. As long as they can read and write and do basic math, they’ll get by fine. Who in their right mind would want to get scolded everyday just so they can suffer even more by studying all sorts of hard topics? And once Ludwig hears how reluctant she is to go, he’ll give up on the idea of persuading his master!

Mia asked Selia for her opinion, figuring she’d offer a firm rebuke of austere education, only to have the plan blow up spectacularly in her face.

Ah, I see what this is... This is fate conspiring to send me off to Ludwig’s nasty master so I can be thoroughly eviscerated, and all I can do is accept my doom.

She spun toward the orphan, tears of grief welling in her eyes, and fixed her with a bitter glare.

“Then I expect you...to do exactly as you said.”

Before the dumbfounded girl could react, she grabbed her shoulder and squeezed, refusing to allow her the slightest chance of escape.

You think you can just throw me to the wolves and run away? Think again! I’ve got you now! You like it when they’re mean to you? Well, have fun, because you’re getting exactly what you asked for!

She peeled her lips back in a malicious grin.

“I swear upon my name, girl, that if I successfully bring in a really really strict headmaster, then I’m enrolling you in my school. And I’m going to have you study directly under that headmaster.”

You’re going to take responsibility for what you said! I can’t be the only one who gets shortchanged! If I have to suffer, then you’re all suffering with me!

Driven by a desire to see misery dispensed equally, she resolved to take everyone else down with her. Thus, as a result of Mia’s commitment to the spirit of sharing, Selia’s life took a dramatic turn. Half a year later, she would step through the doors of the newly-built Saint Mia Academy as one of its first students.

It bears mentioning that what Mia did that day would later serve as the basis for the formation of a special class consisting of students handpicked by the orphanage to receive direct tutelage from the headmaster. If Ludwig and his fellow disciples were the first generation to be taught by the Wandering Wiseman, then the children of that class would be the second, and they differed from their seniors in one crucial way—they felt a deep-seated gratitude toward the princess for rescuing them from poverty, which eventually hardened into unwavering loyalty for her cause.

Favored by Mia’s compassion, they would later mature into a cohort of talented officials who took up posts throughout the various ministries. There they would put to full use their considerable intellects—honed to a razor’s edge by their master—toward realizing the reformation (as articulated by Ludwig) that Empress Mia strove for. Among this group of capable graduates destined to become pillars of the future empire, Selia was undoubtedly the leader. As one of Chancellor Ludwig’s most trusted subordinates, she spearheaded a great many projects, earning herself titles such as “Lady Wonder” and “The Ace-of-All-Trades.”

These, however, were only visions of an unrealized future. Whether they become history or fiction...would be decided by none other than Mia, whose shoulders bore the weight of countless dreams yet to be dreamt.

“Uuuugh... H-How come...it has to be me...”

They were an unsteady pair of shoulders, moving in concert with the sniffling complaints of the oblivious princess they belonged to.