Chapter 2: Princess Mia’s Festival of Debauchery (Part B) —The Light of Hope and the Miraculous Memory—

“Oh? My, this is...”

The Whitemoon Palace was in the midst of a visual transformation in preparation for Mia’s birthday festival. Large pieces of resplendent cloth were draped over the palace walls, across which the name Mia Luna Tearmoon was embroidered in big, bold letters. That was fine. It happened every year, and she was used to it. The problem lay elsewhere. Rather, it stood elsewhere.

White, imposing, and standing almost as tall as the palace itself...was an enormous statue of Mia!

“What...?”

She stared at it with a twitching grimace.

Wh-What in the moons is that supposed to be?!

Worse yet...

“Come on, you need to carve off a little more around that part or it won’t bring out Mia’s charm. And make sure to be especially careful over there. Notice how it’s nice and round, with a bit of pudginess to it? Yes, that’s essential! It’s so very Mia-like. Make sure you don’t mess it up.”

The on-site supervisor was none other than His Imperial Majesty and current emperor of the Tearmoon Empire, Matthias Luna Tearmoon himself. Mia watched in abject horror as her father fought vigorously at the front lines, braving sand and flake as he pointed fingers and shouted orders.

She gulped. Feeling a sudden warmth in her cheeks, she quickly hopped out of the carriage. A quick glance backward revealed Abel and Sion to be in the midst of debarking as well, but they’d have to come later. First, she needed to take care of the problem in front of her.

She hastily stomped her way toward the emperor who, hearing her approach, looked in her direction.

“Oooh, Mia, you’re back!”

With a smile like a summer morning, he ran over.

“Greetings, Your Majesty. I have returned,” said Mia.

She performed an exemplary curtsy. Despite its flawless execution, Matthias was not pleased.

“Moons! Your Majesty?” He grunted with visible displeasure. “You hurt me, my dear darling daughter. Call me ‘dad’ like you always do! Go on now. Let me hear you say dad.”

“Ugh, da—I mean—augh! I do not call you dad all the time. Would you stop making things up already, father?” she shrieked, red-faced.

This was, after all, a public space. They were in the presence of many other people. Specifically, two princes who—

Uh oh.

In the slow, dread-filled manner of horror theater, she craned her neck just enough to peer backwards...where she discovered the pair standing only a few paces away. Abel was staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment. Sion had a hand to his mouth, but it hardly concealed his amusement.

Hnnnnnngh! Th-This is utterly humiliating! Why must I be subjected to public humiliation like this...

As much as she wished to flee the premises, however, she couldn’t do so quite yet. She had to know what in the moons was going on with...that thing.

“More importantly, father, what is this supposed to be?” she asked in a trembling voice as she gazed up at the enormous white statue of herself.

“Ah, this? I had it made as a gift for your return. I was hoping it’d cheer you up when you saw it. They call it a snow sculpture,” he answered as he regarded it with pride. “I heard about what you’re doing out there, you know? Viscount Berman came by the other day, and we talked a little. He told me all about the big wooden statue of yourself that you’re putting up in the Mia Academy.”

“What wooden statue?!” she scoffed. “How come I haven’t heard of this?!”

She recalled how Berman had previously wanted to build a massive golden statue. She thought she’d talked him out of it, but clearly, she’d been mistaken.

“After hearing that, I decided I wanted one for the capital as well. Then—and the timing was perfect, by the way—I just so happened to catch wind of statues made of snow, so I looked into it.”

When it came time for serious business, the emperor could be incredibly quick to action. Mia just wished he’d apply that kind of initiative to things that didn’t involve, say, making big snow sculptures of herself.

“B-But...it hasn’t snowed here in the capital yet, has it?”

The most baffling thing about the sculpture was that the whole way here, she didn’t remember seeing a single snowflake. The weather was certainly cold enough for fallen snow to accumulate, but the snow hadn’t fallen. So where did her frosty supersized replica come from?

Matthias chuckled with self-satisfaction.

“That’s where Outcount Gilden comes in. It’s already snowing up north right now, and I heard you’re on good terms with the man, so I asked him to haul some over. He was very eager to help out.”

Mia did a quick mental review of the name. Gilden...was the outland noble she befriended on the way back from Ganudos Port Country.

First Berman, now Gilden... Ugh! Why can’t they just mind their own business? Unforgivable!

Trying very hard not to show her intense teeth-gnashing, she glared up at the snow sculpture. Her intense scrutiny inadvertently introduced her to its artistic merits. The snowy Mia was dressed like a fairy, and the level of expression through the normally-fluffy medium was, frankly, breathtaking. From the shape of her cheek to the angle of her jawline, even down to each and every individual strand of hair, there was an incredible detail to attention on par with the finest works of art.

To think you could make something like this out of snow... Art is amazing...

Her mind engaged in escapism, focusing its thoughts on the art rather than the context. It was an understandable reaction, especially when the sculpture had subtly embellished her appearance. Basically, it made her look prettier than she actually was. If flesh-and-scone Mia just barely passed for pretty, then her wintry counterpart cleared the line with ease. There was some level of artistic license being taken for sure. The sculpture was also bigger than her. Much much bigger. Snow Mia was the same height as the palace itself and asserted its looming presence onto every nearby eye as though it craved every bit of attention it could get. It was so damn tall, in fact, that she wondered if everyone in the capital could see it, so long as they knew which way to look.

Alas, she couldn’t stop the context from slipping into her thoughts.

Imagine, please, a beautiful artist’s rendition of a girl, so beautiful that any sane mind would wonder if maybe a tad too many liberties had been taken. Now imagine this likeness in the form of a towering sculpture as tall as a palace. Finally, imagine the poor girl whose conspicuously-embellished likeness was now on display for all to see, standing there, staring at said likeness...while her own father barked orders at his artisans to touch up her nose and dimple her cheek. How would this girl feel?

Embarrassed to death, that’s how! For a girl in her most sensitive years, this was the stuff of profound cringe. Back-bending, tummy-fluttering, hiss-inducing cringe.

I-I’ll die if Abel catches a glimpse of this!

Whoever saw this sculpture would surely believe the Great Sage of the Empire, Mia Luna Tearmoon, to be a bit of an exhibitionist. They’d wince with secondhand embarrassment. Then, after witnessing her snowy beauty, they’d see her in the flesh...and doubtlessly flash knowing smiles at each other afterward.

“Ah, so this is what Princess Mia looks like,” they’d say. “Mmm. Well, I mean, art is art, but maybe they brushed her up a little too much?”

I can’t let the two of them see this. No way! Absolutely not!

She promptly swiveled on her heels, hands ready to be employed as makeshift blindfolds for the two princes. Sadly, she was too late. Both of them, she realized, had their heads tilted back, their astonished gazes focused squarely on her sculpture.

It was then that Mia wished for the stars to fall from the sky and end the world. Her apocalyptic escapism demonstrates an important fact about the fundamental nature of the world: just as curiosity kills cats, embarrassment kills princesses. If you or anyone you know is a princess, please treat them with dignity and respect.

In any case, having realized that every moment she spent looking at the sculpture was chipping away at her sanity, she promptly changed the topic.

“Mmm, anyway, father—”

“I’ve waited so long for you to come back. Personally, I think I deserve at least one ‘dad.’ What do you think?”

“I think I’m trying to have a serious conversation, father. These,” she said, turning slightly to gesture at the two princes behind her, “are my classmates, Prince Abel and Prince Sion. They came all the way here to attend my birthday festival.”

Then, she smiled pointedly at Matthias, who grunted.

“Ah. To attend my daughter’s birthday festival. I see,” he repeated, expression sobering. In a decidedly taciturn manner, he walked up to the princes. “Many thanks for making the long journey here. I am Matthias Luna Tearmoon.”

The emperor’s gaze swept across them with all the sharpness of a royal blade, then settled on Abel, who couldn’t help but stumble backward. Catching himself, he managed to convert his backward step into a respectful bow.

So this is Mia’s father, the Emperor of Tearmoon.

Abel quietly sucked in a breath. The man had a commanding presence, equal parts majestic and imposing. It was a different aura from his own father, who was a warrior, but it was no less impressive. There was something about the emperor’s careful, appraising gaze that caused every fiber of muscle in Abel’s body to tense up, pulling his shoulders back and straightening his spine. His eyes began to shift reflexively toward Sion. He forced them back with a rush of shame.

Get a hold of yourself, man!

Etiquette followed reality, and based on the power hierarchy in the continent, it was understood that Sion should be first to return the greeting. The Kingdom of Remno did, after all, sit on a considerably lower rung. Any mention of the Tearmoon Empire could only be paralleled by the Kingdom of Sunkland. Nowhere in that context did Remno fit. On top of that, Abel was a second prince. Compared to Sion, who was the crown prince of Sunkland and heir to the throne, he was inferior in every shape and form.

But what about it? So what if I am?

Mia had said she believed in him, so Abel had to live up to those hopes of hers. It was as simple as that. This was no time for cold feet.

“I am Abel Remno, second prince of the Kingdom of Remno. At school, I partake in the duties and activities of the student council alongside Her Highness Princess Mia. It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”

After concluding his introduction, he boldly met Matthias’s gaze. A breath later, Sion spoke as well.

“I am equally honored to make Your Majesty’s acquaintance. I am Sion Sol Sunkland, crown prince of the Kingdom of Sunkland. Like my friend, I am also a member of Saint-Noel Academy’s student council.”

Once the two princes finished introducing themselves, Matthias quietly crossed his arms.

Hm... Abel Remno. So this is the second prince of Remno, he thought as he carefully took the boy’s measure. A sharp gaze. Bold yet balanced stance. A knight in the making, I’d say. I heard the Kingdom of Remno is beefing up their military. The first prince is apparently a better swordsman, but this one... This one is no slouch either, it seems. That is not the face of a coward.

Next, he looked at Sion.

And this is the crown prince of Sunkland, Sion Sol Sunkland... Handsome. Relaxed, but not vulnerable. He gives the impression of an affable young fellow. I see now that the attention and interest he commands from nobles his age is well deserved.

One by one, he matched his visual assessments to the details in his head. Matthias had, in fact, committed to memory the sons of every royal family and powerful noble in the region. Why? To find a good husband for Mia, of course!

Rumors are that Remno’s first prince has a violent temperament. As far as I can tell though, this Abel boy shows no such disposition. But Mia is a gentle girl. She will surely be more attracted to those with a gentle nature, like me. She used to tell me she would marry me one day, after all.

Concluding his evaluation with a nasal huff, he turned to Sion.

Which means...the one she’s actually after must be Prince Sion. But wait! Would she really fall for a boy who’s so clearly the object of countless women’s affections? Is she really that shallow? Of course not. She used to tell me she would marry me one day, after all. There’s no doubt that she’d prefer someone who’s more the steady, faithful sort.

He nodded to himself as he mused.

Even if one of these two were to establish a romantic relationship with Mia, I’ll need to make them spend another five...maybe ten more years on the whetstone of manliness before they become worthy of her. It’s impossible to truly be a match for her, of course, but they’ll have to at least be near her level...

He mused about some very vacuous things, but he mused nonetheless.

“Oh, father,” said Mia, interrupting his worthless contemplation, “about this year’s birthday festival. I have a really good idea.”

“Do you, Mia? What kind of good idea?” he said, his expression instantly reverting to its prior softness.

Mia smiled with no small amount of smugness and said, “As a matter of fact...for my birthday this year, I want everyone to celebrate it with me.”

So proud was she of this idea that she even puffed out her chest a little.

“Hm? Of course everyone will celebrate it with you. That goes without saying, I believe.”

Matthias frowned in confusion as Mia swayed a finger left and right.

“Not just the nobles. Everyone. Every man, woman, and child who lives in the empire. I want them all to celebrate my birthday, enjoy the festival, and have a wonderful time.”

“That...still goes without saying, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine anyone refusing to celebrate your birthday. That would be insolence of the highest order. I even issued a decree stating all such offenders were to be put to dea—”

“No, father. A decree is just forcing them to obey. That’s not what I want.” Mia gently shook her head.

“Oh? What is it that you want then?”

“It’s very simple. I want everyone...to eat delicious food together. That will be enough,” she answered with a bright smile. “What I’m looking for is a well-fed empire during my birthday. Every imperial subject down to the poorest peasant should be able to eat to their heart’s content. Not a single soul should be allowed to go hungry. I want everyone to eat, drink, and enjoy themselves.”

Matthias listened with widening eyes as she continued.

“In fact, it’s something that’s been bothering me every year. All the nobles prepare so much food for me, but it’s too much. I can’t possibly eat it all by myself! The guests can’t finish it all either, so there’s always lots of food left over. That doesn’t make me happy one bit. I’d much rather see more smiles on the faces of our people. That’s what would make me happy.”

The emperor’s eyes grew teary as he listened with increasing fascination.

“Knowing that people are throwing food away for me brings me no joy. I’d much rather give that food to everyone and have them eat it with big smiles on their faces. That’s a far more fitting thing to do for a festival.”

“Oooh, Mia, what kindness! My dear darling daughter is such an angel... Well said! You’ve made your wishes clear! I’ll have messengers sent to all the nobles immediately. They will be told to open their doors and invite their people to a feast in their homes. Every town in every domain shall have a feast prepared in its square. There shall be ample food, and all shall be welcome. Not a soul is to go hungry during the festival.”

Mia mentally roared in triumph at her father’s commandment.

Oho ho, there we go. Done! It’s such a simple idea—I can’t believe it took me so long to come up with it... Why throw away the food when I can just have the people stock up on their eating? That way, even if there’s a supply shortage down the road, they won’t get too upset!

...So, eating isn’t the kind of thing you can stock up on, which means this whole idea basically face-planted right out the gate, but fortunately for her—and unfortunately for everyone else—no mind readers were present to point out this glaring error in her logic.

Well then...

Ludwig felt the hint of a tear as he observed the exchange between Mia and her father. The wastage perpetuated by nobles had been troubling him as well. Every birthday festival led to large amounts of food being thrown away. As Mia had predicted, next year’s harvest was showing clear signs of decline. If a famine truly was on the horizon, the squandering of food would be absolutely inexcusable.

Yet how would one go about reversing this culture of waste? Ludwig hadn’t the foggiest idea. Preparations for the upcoming banquets were already underway. At this point, demanding a more frugal menu would only lead to half-prepped ingredients being left to rot. Food waste seemed unpreventable. Moreover, with Mia’s birthday being the purpose of the celebration, the emperor himself was running the show. So long as he stood behind the lavish custom, not even Mia could oppose it. There was also the fact that such extravagance led to a lot of money being moved, which was a phenomenon whose value could not be understated. There was significant economic benefit to having merchants from far and wide gather at the festival.

That was why Ludwig had decided to shrug his shoulders at the event. For all its ills, it had its boons. More importantly, there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it. It was by now a yearly custom, and forced change would only result in needless chaos. Figuring it’d be better to maintain the status quo than to inadvertently magnify the problem, he’d settled for resigned acceptance.

Mia, meanwhile, clearly begged to differ...and did so by presenting a solution of brilliant simplicity.

If we’re going to throw away the food anyway, why not feed it to the masses instead... Genius!

What the nobles wanted was a chance to flaunt their wealth through lavish spending. Mia understood this perfectly. Then, rather than oppose their wishes, she drew upon it, providing them with the outlet they desired. Her genius lay in the outlet’s orientation, which she tweaked ever so slightly, redirecting the nobles’ energy in a more beneficial direction. It was an impressive maneuver that drew from Ludwig a long sigh of admiration.

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. Even if we told nobles to tighten up their budget, they’d probably just keep all the extra food to themselves.

There was no guarantee that reprimanding nobles for wastage put more food on people’s tables. In that case, they might as well let the nobles go nuts, then take all that extra food and distribute it to the masses.

By personally declaring that she wished for all imperial subjects to eat to their heart’s content, nobles would try to please her by offering generous amounts of food, while the people would enjoy filling meals of luxurious quality.

Arguably, this represents a compromise. Not the best solution, but the second best. The ideal approach is obviously to save that food for the famine...but seeing that it’s unworkable, she didn’t waste a second putting the next best thing into motion. As always, her fountain of wisdom is never-ending.

And as always, Ludwig was impressed with Mia. The sun rises in the east, the sky is blue, et cetera, et cetera...

Thus began the birthday festival that would be known to future generations as “Princess Mia’s Festival of Debauchery.” Originally proposed by the titular Mia as a casual “why throw it away when we can just have everyone eat it together?” kind of thing, the event ended up having unexpected and lasting effects.

No one managed to “stock up” on eating like Mia had hoped, of course. That went without saying, seeing as it defied the laws of nature. Memories of the festival, however, lingered. Memories of great food and even greater cheer. For the general populace, nobles were little more than extorters of tax. Few had ever received anything of visible benefit from the nobility. This event changed that.

At the behest of Princess Mia, every single imperial subject was invited to partake in a feast where food and drink were served for free. The purpose of the event was to celebrate Mia’s birthday, and those in attendance were given only one instruction—they were to enjoy the day to the best of their ability. Said instruction was, in fact, imperial decree, leaving all attendees with nervous smiles as they roamed about trying to act festive amidst an atmosphere of equal parts curious excitement and stomach-turning unease. Those on bad terms with each other withheld their bile, figuring their heads more valuable than a well-timed jeer. Forced or not, the festival resulted in laughs all around as they celebrated the occasion.

At some point, perhaps affected by strong drinks, a man began to sing. The lively tempo of his tune compelled the nearby youth to dance. A merchant, passions stirred by the atmosphere, donated a barrel of wine to the cause. Another merchant, realizing the promotional value of what had just occurred, joined the fray, serving snacks and sides. Soon, men, women, and children alike were taking spare food from their homes and offering it unprompted to strangers.

Amidst all the activity, a carriage would sometimes pass by carrying the protagonist of the day, Mia herself, often doubling the local excitement. The ill wills of bygone days began to give way under the weight of false smiles—a weight that would eventually flatten even their own falsity, leaving only the genuine mirth they conveyed.

It was...an odd occasion. One that defied description. A brief but wonderful miracle of a festival that had never graced the empire before. People remembered it as, above all, a time of good fun and high spirits. Whether townsfolk or merchants, rich or poor, friends and enemies, old and young, men and women, and boys and girls of all shape and color gathered under one communal purpose—to celebrate the birthday of a girl. And at the end of it all, the joyful memory of that day embedded itself deep in their hearts, never to fade.

It was a memory that glowed like a beacon of hope in times of darkness, giving suffering souls the strength to carry on...for they now knew that Princess Mia was a noble, but not just any noble. Unlike the rest, she saw them. Somewhere up in the nebulous peaks of aristocracy, there was a girl who paid no mind to the gulf between their status and invited them—all of them—to dine at her feast. So, they endured, because she was a generous girl with a kind heart. Because while their lives might have reverted to their usual misery, if they persevered, that wonderful time might return once more. So onward they walked bearing the burdens of life...in the hopes of enjoying another taste of the brief yet beautiful miracle that Princess Mia would prepare for them.

Disaster would befall the empire time and again afterward, but on each and every occasion, its people did not lose heart. Shaken but not crushed, they would endure so that at the year’s closing, they could once again enjoy that festival of cheer.

The festival would go on to become a lasting tradition of the empire, but that, unfortunately, is a story that must be saved for another time.