The dwarves had been busy.

Just not quite busy enough.

I flicked the edge of a painting. A plume of dust exited from the cavernous vista portrayed within.

I could have inspected any of the decorations and they’d have spluttered accordingly. 

Here, somewhere beneath the ground, the illegal passages of our dwarven neighbours were startlingly similar to the hallways of a dilapidated estate. 

Although an attempt had been made to present a veneer of craftsmanship, all that did was attract the endless blemishes.

Beneath the initial shine of the well-chiselled walls, the landscape paintings and the occasional furnishing, only disregard could be seen towards their upkeep. A pattern of smudges were revealed beneath the shafts of light where the gloss of a mirror finish originally existed.

Even goblin tunnels were better maintained. But goblins also knew how to delegate tasks.

Given the length of these corridors, it was clear that nothing short of an army of maids would be needed simply to stop sneezing being a constant concern.

I saw not a single one.

Instead, as I made my way through the dwarven maze, I was welcomed by the occasional rock slime as they did away with their camouflage to roll away like bouncing pebbles. And although the oozing trail helped to wipe away the dust, it did little to rescue the overall effect.

The biggest issue, however, was far more concerning.

Clink.

It was the lack of security.

Off to the side, Ophelia the Snow Dancer lifted up a decorative ornament.

A crystallised icicle formed in the shape of glassware. She held it within a shaft of sunlight, then pressed it against her face, humming as she decided if it was worth pilfering.

Indeed … it wasn’t just maids who were lacking. 

It was indignant guards.

Intruders were simply allowed to wander at will. And that was awful.

After all–

“Unnatural uniformity,” said a certain clockwork doll, joining the Snow Dancer in appraising the glassware. “High cold retention. Even weight distribution. Mirrored facets. If this was true crystallised ice, it would have imperfections. A counterfeit.”

“A counterfeit,” agreed Ophelia with a nod. “Likely cast from a mould and then finished with intermediate transmutation magic ... 5 gold crowns?”

“I think it’s worth about 10 gold crowns. Especially if humans buy them. They’re not picky.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Without a second glance, the Snow Dancer tossed the crystallised glassware back onto the cabinet it was found, before both she and Coppelia onto the next item to judge.

I paused, then tip-toed to the side and slipped the 5-10 gold crowns into my bottomless pouch … all the while a pair of ducks watched me non-judgingly.

I nodded to them in agreement.

Indeed!

The way these two simply looted as they wished meant people might assume I did the same! 

This was just awful! … At this rate, all the funds from the things falling into my bottomless pouch would be needed just to pay for the bribes clearing me of any wrongdoing!

Thus, I gave a sigh as I finally relented.

“Ugh, fine … what are you doing here?”

The Snow Dancer instantly whipped around, hands innocently behind her back. 

Coppelia reached out and plucked away the small vase she was holding. 

“Hm? Who, me? The beautiful and famous elven sword saint who despite being really good at beating people up actually also enjoys slow walks on the beach?”

“Yes. You. What are you doing here–or more specifically, what are you doing here while I’m also here?”

“I’m just a passing elf doing regular elf things. Like planting trees. Underground.”

I raised an eyebrow.

By the looks of it, she was also searching for a soirée.

Just not any of mine.

For some reason, she was wearing a … cocktail dress.

Leaving little to the imagination, it was a thing so scandalous that it was diluted only by the fact that everything about her was scandalous. 

Frankly, I had no idea which atelier she’d pilfered it from. But I did know it wasn’t any frequented by princesses. Our dresses were long enough to cause a risk to public safety.

“You are not planting trees,” I told her, deliberately ignoring the dress as she spun around for a comment. “The only seeds you’re sowing are to my least impressed face.”

“Really? … Can I see it?”

“You can see it when I offer it to the dwarves. I was saving it for them, not you. Such a face requires at least 15 minutes of careful pinching to get right. You being here threatens that.”

The Snow Dancer raised her hands, offering to pinch my cheeks.

She slowly lowered them when I presented her with my second to least impressed face.

“I have no idea why you’re here,” I said, as she waved her ducks away from me and towards her. “Nor do I truly wish to know. But I certainly hope it’s not because you’ve found employment with this latest group of bearded vagabonds trying to stir mischief in my kingdom.”

“Nope! They offered, but I said no.”

“They offered? Does everyone who wishes to cause trouble know to contact you first? What dubious connections do you have with dwarves which allows them to try hiring you for their misdeeds?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m popular! I literally do my own thing but they keep showing up! I can’t even clean my pond without seeing the reflection of some guy in black robes, a mask and a funny alias already standing behind my shoulder! It’s really hard being so liked!”

I paused.

“... Very well, in that I can sympathise. It’s difficult to be adored.”

“Yep, that’s why–”

“That’s why this is entirely your fault. If you don’t wish to be hounded by suspicious individuals, then you need to make it known that meetings are by appointment only.”

“Well, I do have a sign. But everyone ignores it. I mostly just rely on the horde of aunties.”

“I don’t know what a horde of aunties is, terrifying as that admittedly sounds. But if you wish not to be disturbed by suspicious individuals in black robes, you need to speak with actions. You being here doesn’t help your disastrous image. There cannot possibly be a good reason for you to wander in the midst of an illegal dwarven operation.”

“That’s not true. I’ve a great reason. I’m here because I heard something about a diamond.” 

Uugggghhhh.

I couldn’t roll my eyes far enough.

Of course. She was here to pillage. 

She was like an adventurer. But even more shameless. They at least hid behind their excuses.

“You’re already a wanted fugitive. Can you not make it worse every passing day?”

Ophelia blinked at me.

“... Is that a rhetorical question or … ?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, nope. This is me.” 

She paused, then tilted her head slightly.

“But I have benefits too,” she suddenly said. “I can cook, bake, clean, knit, and play 57 different instruments to a professional standard.”

“Is that so?” I clapped my hands in delight. “… My, how marvellous! I had no idea!”

“Yep! I’m actually surprisingly useful!”

“In that case, please submit an application to become a maid at the Royal Villa so I can reject it. Afterwards, you may submit an application to be a court musician so I can reject that as well.”

“But I’m really good!”

“I’m certain you are. The songs you play while making off with my St. Liane would doubtless be impressive. But as much as I’d like to hear how a piano sounds while being squeezed through a window, I value it being exactly where it is. Just as I do all my belongings.”

The Snow Dancer almost looked offended.

“I wouldn’t steal from you. I’ve already seen what you guys have. It’s nothing that exciting.”

I covered my mouth in shock.

“H-How dare you! … Everything we own is highly thievable! Why, just by selling the treasure chest filled with valuables I keep hidden at the bottom of the blood piranha infested lake within watching distance of my window would mean you’d never lack for crowns again!”

“Yeah, but if I did that, I’m pretty sure Granny would disapprove.”

“‘Granny’?”

“Granny. Your grandmother. Scary woman with a cane.”

I blankly stared.

“... Hm? Excuse me, but why would you be referring to my grandmother?”

“Weeeell, I met her just a bit ago in Granholtz. She was sitting next to a waterfall while taking out everybody’s knees. People thought she was a violent magical fairy who would grant wishes if they survived. Nobody did, by the way. Except me. But oh boy was it was close. I was seeing the end of the tunnel by the time she made me climb that mountain for the 54th time.”

My mouth slowly widened.

Even so, I had nothing to say.

The idea that the Snow Dancer had met my grandmother was preposterous. As was the notion that she’d be found idling in the domain of our kingdom’s most steadfast rival. 

Not only was that highly perilous, but it was a breach of protocol that would result in my diplomats drowning in their own tears.

And that meant … it was definitely true! 

“You met Grandmother … ?!”

“Sure did! I think she likes me.”

“That’s impossible. She doesn’t like anyone. At least not if they’re still capable of showing happiness.” 

“Well, she liked me enough to give me S-rank.”

Hm?

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmmmmm?

“Excuse me?” I offered a tilt of my head, lacking anything else. “… Could you perhaps say that again–but in a way which makes sense? … Or if that’s not possible, maybe outright lie instead? That’s also fine.”

“There’s no way I can do that. Look, I have it in writing!”

All of a sudden, a smiling Snow Dancer produced a slip of parchment.

Slowly, and with Coppelia also excitedly leaning over, I read the words written in the sharp handwriting that was unmistakably my grandmother’s. 

I hereby assign Ophelia the Snow Dancer the rank of ‘S’.

Eliana Contzen, 

The Queen Emerita of the Kingdom of Tirea.

The world collapsed.

I stumbled towards the nearest wall, then supported myself with a quivering palm as I doubled over in mental pain.

Grandmother … had personally promoted the Snow Dancer to S-rank … ?!

She liked her … ?!

Why … ?!

I was in utter disbelief. 

Just thinking about what the insane elven woman had done to impress someone who was immune to being impressed was one thing … but for a former queen to assign any ranking whatsoever was an act of wilfulness beyond even what I thought she could do!

Such a thing was the purview of guilds and those who cared … not royalty! 

The amount of diplomatic conventions she’d shattered was enough that as a princess, the passive damage I took just from the knowledge it occurred went beyond any wound I’d ever received!

“Coppelia … I … I need medical attention …”

“Ahahaha~ what are you saying? You look perfectly fine. Your eyes have never been so swirly!”

“That … That isn’t good … ugh, my tummy hurts …”

“Is it because of what the Snow Dancer said? … Because in that case, you just need to hit back! You can tell her you’re also S-rank as well!” 

“C-Coppelia … ?!” 

I almost collapsed as darkness threatened to take my vision.

It still wasn’t enough to prevent the sight of the Snow Dancer’s wide eyes blinking at me. 

“You’re S-rank too?”

“That’s … it’s a … a scandalous misunderstanding …”

For a moment, she simply stared, shocked that all she needed to do to earn her vaunted new rank was not be constantly inebriated and to accidentally rescue several hundred cats.

And then–

“Woooo! We’re matching ranks!”

“W-Why does that make you happy … ?!”

“Oh. You’re right. It shouldn’t. I guess that means I need SS-rank now, huh?”

“... There’s an SS-rank?!”

I could barely summon the strength to look appalled.

“Sure is,” said Ophelia, clearly satisfied with the amount of trauma she’d caused. “It’s one of those unofficial-but-actually-official ranks. It’s really hard to get. But since getting S-rank only made my life flash before my eyes twice, maybe three times, I might as well go all the way.”

Frankly, I didn’t know what to be more horrified about. 

The thought that the Snow Dancer would do something to further gain my grandmother’s approval. Or that I was no longer safe.

Even in the worst of my nightmares, I’d assumed I was now spared the sight of the Harbinger of Doom … but if there was room to rise further, then that meant I still needed to check under my bed every night!

My fists clenched.

I had no reason to doubt the Snow Dancer’s words, which meant that if there truly was something as calamitous as an SS-rank, then that meant I couldn’t remain idle!

The situation was worse than I thought! Each moment I delayed returning to the safety of the Royal Villa’s walls was another where I could fall prey to whatever conspiracy was already in the planning stages to see my reputation sullied!

I took in a deep breath, forcing equilibrium to return to the world as I stood up straight. 

“Very well … this changes everything.”

“You’re going for SS-rank too, huh?”

“I’d rather consume brown sludge and remember what it tastes like.” I shook my head. Forcefully. “... No, I need to focus on self-preservation. And that means dealing with these dwarves digging up my kingdom first.”

The Snow Dancer looked bemused. 

“Then you should know who they are, since they’re probably worse than whoever you expected. These dwarves are part of a major criminal cartel.”

“A cartel?”

“Yeah. The Shadowvault Syndicate. I might even have heard about them. That makes them bigshots. They’re the type to demand you hand everything over, rob you, then stab you anyway.”

I stared as I took in this pertinent new information.

Then, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

“... Oh, thank goodness!” I said as all the tension left my shoulders. “Why, I thought it was something serious! But it’s just a generic criminal organisation!”

Only a clockwork doll’s giggle met me. As was right.

Receptionists in every shadow I couldn’t handle. But criminals I could. They were always attempting to undermine my kingdom. And sometimes they weren’t even nobility. 

This? This was nothing. 

Indeed, I could even be on my way home before the day was done!

“Ohohoho … very well, then.” I wore a relieved smile as I looked ahead. “So that’s what this is–common vandalism. I assume the tremors are because nobody knows how to wield a pickaxe properly. My only hope is that these dwarves make for better pickpockets than they do miners. The more ill-gotten gains they’ve hidden away for me to requisition, the better.”

Coppelia hopped on the spot, joined by a pair of ducks flapping their wings.

“Wanton looting!” she said enthusiastically.

“Ransacking and plunder!” added the Snow Dancer.

I instantly jabbed my finger towards the odd one out.

“Stop! You are not part of this! There is utterly no reason for you to be here! … What nefarious purpose do you have?! I can sense it like a blackened carrot confit!”

She wasn’t listening.

Instead, the elven woman skipped ahead, whistling as she went.

I stared at the back of her swaying silver hair, only briefly seeing her carefree smile as she twirled.

Beside me, Coppelia raised her arms and beamed.

“Ophelia has joined the party!”