Chapter 10: Stop the Construction of the Gigantic Golden Mia Statue!

The morning after arriving in Viscount Berman’s domain, Mia was briefed on the construction progress of her academy. Since they were already there, Ludwig also decided to add an on-site inspection to her schedule.

Whatever. After all, if things get out of hand, I can always just run away.

The reassuring fallback of Anne’s suggestion allowed her to escape her downward spiral of lethargy and maintain something of her usual level of outward enthusiasm as she performed her duties. First on her docket of official business for the day was to greet Viscount Berman in his manor and formally express her appreciation for his efforts, after which she listened to an explanation of how they planned to build Princess Town.

“Currently, we are prioritizing the construction of the academy, in accordance with Your Highness’s wish to begin classes as soon as possible. I hope this arrangement is appropriate?”

“Yes, quite so.”

She observed the Viscount, noticing that he seemed to have lost that servile smile he always wore when she’d last seen him. Instead, he wore an expression of quiet confidence—unassertive, but also unwavering. It was the kind of air often exuded by those who felt pride in what they were doing. Beside him stood an official from the Scarlet Moon Ministry, whose lustrous blond hair, smartly trimmed beard, and affable smile radiated the kind of elegance unique to those of genteel upbringing. He appeared to be around Ludwig’s age.

I wonder who that is? A noble from somewhere, maybe?

After carefully studying the man, she gave him a smile. It didn’t cost her anything, and it was a great way to avoid making enemies. She’d give out smiles all day if they could keep her adversaries away. The official looked taken aback by this gesture but quickly steadied and followed up Berman’s explanation with his own.

“Specifically, the main school building and student dormitories will be the first to go up. With the cooperation of the neighboring Lulu Tribe, they will be constructed using trees from the Sealence Forest. I heard that Your Highness is rather fond of the wood produced there...”

He glanced at Mia’s hair, which was still decorated with the pin she’d received from the young Lulu boy.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’m sure the buildings will turn out beautifully.”

Once shaved and polished, wood from the Sealence Forest acquired an iridescent shine. A campus of faintly glowing buildings sounded like quite the enchanting sight, and Mia nodded in satisfaction at the thought. In general, she wasn’t particularly fascinated by lavishly financed architecture, but pretty things were pretty, so she wasn’t going to complain either.

Viscount Berman wasn’t done though.

“Also, Your Highness, if you could take a look at this...”

He produced a few pages of parchment.

“Oh? What might these be?”

She reached forward to take them, but in the process, she noticed that Berman’s self-satisfied smile was not shared by the man behind him. The ministry official regarded the parchment with what could only be described as profound disgust.

...Am I sure I want to see what’s on this?

The circumstances left her with little choice, and she reluctantly accepted the documents. It took only one look for her fears to be realized.

“What... What is this?”

“Why, it’s a statue, Your Highness! A big golden statue of yourself!”

“A...big golden statue...of myself?” she said, so stunned she could barely get the words out.

The sentence felt like a bomb going off in her head. It left her in a state of shell shock.

“Indeed! I’m planning to have it stand as tall as the spire of the Whitemoon Palace!”

Just thinking about how much that would cost made her feel ill. Berman, clearly oblivious to her growing nausea, continued his spiel.

“And I’m going to have them hollow it out so it can be entered.”

“E-Entered? You mean...you can go inside?”

She quickly leafed through the pages to discover one with a detailed blueprint of the gigantic statue’s interior.

“As you can see,” said Berman, referring to the schematics, “it will be possible to view the outside scenery from the eyes and mouth.”

“Ah. I see. How...fascinating.”

“I’m also thinking of illuminating them, so at night, you’ll see beams of light shooting out from the openings. Implementing this feature, however, will require a tad more money than we currently have available, so I was hoping to request—”

“Request denied,” she said in a flat, weary tone.

Ludwig’s going to bite my head off if I authorize this kind of wasteful spending...and even if he doesn’t, I’m not sure this idea sits right with me to begin with. It’s so...gaudy, and in all the worst ways...

She tried to imagine the scene of its completion—a gigantic golden likeness of herself towering over its neighboring structures, eyes and mouth emitting beams of light into the night sky—and got goosebumps.

I remember thinking the same thing during the whole hairpin affair last time, but this Berman fellow has really bad taste.

“D-Denied? But why? Think about it, Your Highness! If this is built, it will become one of the empire’s most glorious landmarks.”

“Why?”

She inwardly rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated sigh.

Are you seriously asking me why this is a bad idea?

Trying to explain her reasoning felt like more trouble than it was worth. It might, she thought, be easier to just order him to abandon the idea. This possibility was then promptly quashed by his next statement.

“If funding is a concern for Your Highness, then I’m more than willing to personally bring the matter up with His Imperial Majesty and negotiate further support.”

“...You will do no such thing.”

Mia shot down this idea as well.

If Father gets word of this, I know for sure he’ll jump on board without a second thought and impose some sort of special tax! Imagine how angry people are going to be when they’re told they’ll be paying more taxes so a big golden statue of me can be built. And they’ll probably blame me, to boot!

The problem was that knowing Berman, even if she told him to knock it off, there was a very good chance he’d still go appeal to the emperor directly. That meant somehow, she had to convince him to drop the issue right here, right now. Engaging all the thinking faculties of her already aching head, she initiated her persuasion campaign.

“Viscount Berman, you are misunderstanding my intention.”

“...Misunderstanding? I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I must ask you to enlighten me.”

“You spoke of glory, but whose glory did you mean? For you see, what I consider to be my glory are the students who will attend my school, as well as their numerous future achievements after stepping out into the world! Therefore, if you have money to be building a golden statue, I’d much rather you spend it on the students themselves,” she declared.

I mean, the only achievement I really care about is Cyril Rudolvon’s new strain of wheat, but whatever, she added in silent soliloquy.

“On the students? But... I’m afraid I don’t—”

“Think about it. Even if you built the statue, its glory would only be witnessed by those who come here. However, if the school’s students head out there and do great things, news of their accomplishments will quickly spread. They’ll be hailed as geniuses throughout the continent. They’ll gain fame. Then, when people learn that they were schooled in the empire’s first academy city, that fame will extend to the school itself. And where is it located? Why, in the domain of Viscount Berman, of course. Your name will be inextricably linked with the academy and the glory it commands. Now doesn’t that sound simply wonderful?”

A voice murmured in response, but it wasn’t Berman’s.

“In other words... Man is a castle, and man is its walls... Well said.”

She looked in the direction of the speaker to find the ministry official regarding her with interest.

“Hm? I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?”

“Oh?” The official’s eyes widened slightly at her question. “Your Highness is unfamiliar with the saying? It’s a quote from a famous king in the East. What he meant is that no matter how magnificent a castle you build, it means nothing without people. Treasure your people, and at times, they can be as sturdy as a castle and protect you with the resilience of its walls.”

Mia was about to claim she knew about the quote but changed her mind at the last second. It was a reflexive act initiated by her olfactory instincts, who had sensed the distinct smell of danger in the air.

Pretending to know things in front of smart people is a dangerous thing to do, and I’m getting a serious Ludwig vibe from this guy. He reeks of smartness. In this case, it’s probably best to...

“Wow, I had no idea. You’re very knowledgeable.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, but it would appear that I am not the one who is knowledgeable in this regard...” said the official with a respectful bow of his head.

His pensive expression piqued Mia’s curiosity, but Berman interjected before she could say anything.

“I see, I see. The intellectual breadth of Your Highness never fails to impress. Your scholarly words are a blessing upon us all.”

Unlike the official, Mia wasn’t shy about receiving praise. Feeling rather satisfied with herself, she decided the official’s strange expression couldn’t be all that important and decided not to inquire further.

In the end, she managed to dissuade the Viscount from proceeding with his gigantic golden statue project. Instead, under his orders, a different sculpture was erected at the site of the academy a few days later. The Lulu Tribe, having accepted a formal request from Berman, sent a team of their finest artisans to handle the actual construction. The final product was of modest size but impeccable quality. Crafted from the wood of the Sealence Forest, it showed a scene of Mia frolicking with a unicorn.

Later, a certain court author with an overactive imagination would lay eyes on the sculpture and, inflamed by a sudden surge of fantastical inspiration, push the Princess Mia Chronicles ever further into the realm of complete fiction.

Not that it really matters. Anyway...