Chapter 38: A Grain of Wheat, A Single Cookie

Luckily, the storm was gone the next day. It had blown over while Mia was busy engaging in her favorite pastime—counting trivial objects. With the usual vacuous expression on her face, she’d been mentally tallying the number of rocks in the cavern.

Keithwood, under Sion’s orders, had gone out to survey the area as soon as the winds had died down. Before he left, Survival Connoisseur Mia had added an extra request.

“Keithwood, while you’re out there, could you look around and see if there is a spring or small stream nearby?”

Securing drinking water was undoubtedly Survival 101. As an accomplished theoretical survivologist, Mia had spent a great deal of time coming up with all sorts of hypothetical scenarios, many of which involved her hiding in a forest by herself to escape the revolutionary army. The meticulous information gathering she’d done in preparation for these scenarios was now serving her well! Furthermore, it was this vast knowledge of survival that made her perk up when Keithwood returned to the cavern after his extended reconnaissance trip and reported on his findings.

“So, long story short, it never hurts to be careful, but for the time being, I haven’t seen any signs of dangerous animals. The most I could find were some hare tracks...”

“Oh? Did you say...hare?”

Mia’s eyes lit up. She’d had nothing to eat for almost an entire day, so what her ears heard as “hare,” her brain comprehended as “food.” Whatever left those tracks, its days— hours, rather, were numbered.

“Also, only one of the tents survived, but I have no idea how the inside fared. It’s one of the ladies’ tents, so I didn’t go in. Finally, I located a water source in the forest not far from here. It’s a small spring.”

“I see. Fine work as usual, Keithwood. Fast and reliable.”

Sion’s compliment earned him a shrug.

“What can I say? I’m your attendant. It’s a job requirement,” Keithwood said in true workhorse fashion.

For the time being, they decided to make the cavern their base of operations and their first priority would be to salvage whatever they could find in the remaining tent. Hoping to find tools and, with some luck, rations, they headed back to the camp. Unfortunately, luck was not on their side. The remaining tent was in shambles, its frame toppled and its contents exposed. All the equipment inside, which were premium items the Greenmoons had specially prepared for the occasion, were destroyed, their mud-covered remnants robbed of both form and function. The rations fared worse; there wasn’t even a trace left.

“Well, this was meant for us to sleep in and not much else...” muttered Mia.

They’d only taken a small amount of food with them onto the island. Most of it was stored on the Emerald Star.

“I suppose it was too much to hope to find something to eat here... Oh, wait a minute.”

She dug through the remains of her personal belongings. Her travel trunk had been blown open and the extra dresses it had held were gone, but she fixed her eyes on a small wooden box that was still fastened to a corner inside. It seemed to have survived the storm. Gingerly, she removed it and opened the lid, revealing ten large cookies. That’s right. Mia was the kind of person who took cookies with her when traveling. Guided by a firm belief in the necessity of sugar before bed, she’d added them to her luggage.

“Oh, thank the moons they’re all right...”

Blinking away a tear of relief, she promptly reached for one...and stopped. A thought suddenly occurred to her.

I have a feeling I’d better share these with everyone equally.

Mia, you see, was well aware of the fact that denying people food could lead to serious grudges, and these grudges had a tendency to resolve themselves through guillotines. Even the preemptive eating of a cookie could cause people to resent her, thereby leading to a reunion with her old and decapitation-loving friend. The possibility was low, but it was certainly not zero. Had she hogged the entirety of a massive strawberry cake, including all the strawberries, then she could perhaps stomach the guillotine as a consequence. Having her head chopped off for sneaking a bite of cookie though, was definitely a bad trade.

Therefore, she rallied every last bit of self-control she possessed and began battling her appetite for control of her hands. She huffed and puffed, chest rising and falling with each labored breath—yes, the battle was that epic, in her mind at least—as she tried to subdue the beast of hunger within. It fought her tooth and nail. With teeth clenched and lips peeled back in a snarl, she struggled against it like a fierce animal vying for dominance. Ultimately, she succeeded in containing her craving and managed to bring the wooden box of cookies to the rest of her group without devouring it on the spot.

“My oh my, Princess Mia. Now this is a pleasant surprise. How did you know to bring something like this with you?” said Keithwood, clearly impressed.

Mia immediately huffed out a smug breath.

“I didn’t. I was simply prepared. Preparation, Keithwood, is the mark of prudence. And I am a prudent person.”

“That’s all well and good,” interrupted Esmeralda, lips twisted in displeasure, “but why in the moons did you give some cookies to the commoners too? Please, Mia. Have some dignity.”

Mia eyed her and sighed. Esmeralda’s attitude toward commoners was the predominant one among nobles.

She’s completely missing the point. Clearly, she fundamentally doesn’t understand the significance of these cookies...

It was true, of course, that if Mia ate more cookies, it would fill her stomach further. However, there existed an equal and opposite interpretation—every cookie she ate for herself would only cause her stomach to grow fuller by one cookie; it would do nothing more. What if, then, she chose to share those cookies instead? Wouldn’t everybody who received one feel indebted to her?

Indeed, these weren’t just cookies. They were seeds. And she was sowing them. A grain of wheat, if not buried in the dirt, would never amount to anything more than a single grain of wheat’s worth of food. By the same token, a single cookie, if eaten, would forever be just a cookie consumed. But if it were planted as a seed, there might come a day when it yielded a cookie tree.

Keithwood... Sion... They’re friends now, but who knows? Circumstances can change. It’s certainly not impossible for them to turn into enemies down the line.

Mia was reminded of an old tale she’d heard, and idly, she began to self-insert. Picture, if you will, a large river flowing past red, rocky cliffs, upon which a hastily formed navy suffered a crushing defeat. Then, suppose that navy belonged to her, and she was now on the run. Finally, envision a scene where, with enemy troops hot on her heels, she came upon Keithwood, who stood in the way of her escape. In that desperate moment, she could face him and say, “Do you remember the cookie, Keithwood? The cookie...that I gave you that day?” If he then, out of a sense of obligation, chose to let her go, it’d all be worth it. As long as she got back home alive, she could rebuild and recover.

Anyway, enough imagining... The point is, if she could exchange a cookie now for a favor later, she considered that a good deal. Granted, that was more a rationalization than anything else. On a fundamental level, not sharing the cookies with the attendants was simply not a choice she’d ever make. Anne went without saying. Keithwood needed one too, since she’d anger Sion otherwise and an angry Sion was the stuff of nightmares. Also, keeping Keithwood happy meant that the cookie she gave away might eventually make its way back to her in the form of a delicious pot of hare stew. This wasn’t charity; it was an investment. A cookie today for the hare stew of tomorrow. As for Nina... Well, if she collapsed from starvation, Esmeralda would probably throw a fit, and frankly, Mia just didn’t want to deal with that possibility. Therefore, she decided to prioritize the group’s nutritional well-being for now.

The sugary treats worked wonders on their empty stomachs, instantly bringing smiles back to their faces. Furthermore, just in case anyone was curious, after the seven people in their group each got a cookie, she divided the remaining ones evenly among them as well.

Better to just give it all out upfront. Holding on to a few might lead to a mad scramble for them later, and that would be a disaster. After all, hunger changes people, and not for the better... Ugh, I’ve seen how scary they can get...

Having just fought down her own beast of hunger, she was well aware of how dangerous it could be. The way she saw it, they couldn’t fight over the cookies if the things were already in their stomachs. It was Mia’s version of risk management.

They spent some more time rummaging through the tent to little avail. The only other thing they found was something Mia had stuffed at the bottom of her trunk, hoping nobody would notice it...

“Ah. Right. This thing.” Mia eyed the swimsuit dourly. “The indecent one Esmeralda brought for me... Well, this is definitely useless.”

She tossed it away, only for Anne to hastily run up and snatch it out of the air.

“Ah, milady, wait.” She gave it a good look over before her eyes widened a little. “This... Milady, we can use this.”