Summer bloomed in the courtyard of the Royal Villa.

Boasting the finest garden in the Kingdom of Tirea, it was a maze of flowers, hedges, ponds, trees and all the wildlife that lived amongst them.

Bluebirds skipped upon the branches of the pink magnolias. Goldfish danced beneath the bridges spanning every stream. Hedgehogs took turns venturing from the safety of the chrysanthemum shrubs to peek into the forbidden corner blessed with fallen apples.

Today, it was even busier than normal.

As sunshine painted the courtyard, the creatures were joined by the Royal Villa’s staff.

Servants took the opportunity to detour from their usual duties, and although that ordinarily earned a reprimand, not even the severest of supervisors would scold them for their dawdling.

The courtyard was there to be admired, after all.

Smiles shone upon the faces of guards and chefs alike, for despite the ills of the world, here within a beautiful corner of the kingdom, the simple joy of sunshine that all yearned for could be found.

And that meant one woman was hard at work.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Far away from any window, Princess Clarise Contzen was busy hammering a strange rectangular box into the corner of the maid’s quarters.

Unbothered by her teetering ladder, she wiped the sweat from her brows, leaned slightly back, then nodded before continuing to hammer away.

To anybody outside the Royal Villa, she would surely cut a strange sight.

A beautiful princess with a fair complexion, formal shoes, a regal dress … and also a heavy duty toolkit around her waist.

However, to the gathering of maids with their hands clasped together, their eyes shining with expectation, it was the sight of their heroine immersed in her task.

Witnessing the fragile princess who spent more time collapsed on the floor than in bed expending her own sweat, none could be unmoved.

Eventually, the hammering came to a stop.

Clarise gave the strange contraption a final inspection.

Then, she retrieved a witch’s wand from her toolkit and tapped the side of the box.

Nothing happened.

She tapped again. Still nothing. She tapped again and again. Still nothing. And so she tapped away until the taps became bangs and sparks started flying from the tip of her wand.

Until finally–

Whrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

A gentle mist billowed out from a small gap, instantly cooling the air around it.

“Done,” declared Clarise with a nod. “It’s still in the prototyping stage, but this should ensure that your sleeping accommodations remain at a regular temperature even at night.”

The maids broke into applause, many hugging each other in joy.

“Aaahh~! It already feels so good!”

“You can barely notice it! This is wonderful!”

“We’ve been saved! Thank you, Your Highness!”

“I want one for my family too!”

Clarise smiled in satisfaction.

Summer was life. But it was also the enemy. And while the advent of warm weather meant a blessing for the farmers and the fields, it also meant groggy nights and clammy beds.

She climbed down the ladder and took a moment to admire her handiwork.

It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

While magical runes could replicate the cooling function of her all-in-one mist dispenser, spells needed to be replenished. Lacking any magic of her own, Clarise used arcana crystals instead, which also meant anyone could maintain the mist dispenser … in theory.

Sadly, arcana crystals were expensive.

They were used by mages in the artificing of new magical items, not for keeping themselves cool in summer. They were also volatile. Any replacement would need to be the correct size and quality, otherwise there was a chance that the mist would turn into a spray of icicles.

Refinement would be necessary.

But for now, survival was all that mattered.

Content with the lack of explosions, Clarise left the maids to their excitement … and yet little did they know, it wasn’t only their sleeping quarters where they’d be saved from the threat of the heat.

It was also where they ate as well.

The goal was simple–ensure no maid melted into a fruit slime this summer!

Clarise was deeply grateful for all they did.

They were the cogs that kept the Royal Villa functioning. And if they ever suffered to the point they could no longer carry her, then that meant certain doom.

Thus, adjusting her toolkit, she peeked down at the remaining mist dispenser, then made her way to the nearby annex, guided by the sound of chatter and the sound of clinking cutlery.

Her stomach rumbled as she entered the large hall used as the communal dining area by the maids.

All at once, the aroma of fragrant herbs, spices and a limitless assortment of freshly brewed tea tickled her nose. Each was a reminder that Clarise hadn’t eaten lunch. Or breakfast. And maybe dinner.

Compared to the dining chamber reserved for her family, this particular hall wasn’t a lavish affair, yet nor was it lacking either. The varnished walls were gleaming, while tall windows invited ample amounts of sunlight to shine upon the many tables lined with white linen and decorated with flower vases.

What sparkled most, however, were the buffet tables.

They were filled with more colour than Clarise could create using a palette.

All meals were self-service. Hot dishes were prepared in shining trays or still bubbling away in stewing pots. Fresh salad and fruit was gathered in large bowls and neatly arranged on plates. Desserts monopolised two tables, with pastries and cakes needing to be stacked in multiple layers.

There was even a cheeseboard–albeit it seemed the only part of the buffet untouched.

In just a single glance, dishes from every corner of the continent could be seen … and yet the majority were ones Clarise failed to recognise.

Unlike her own meals, the garnishing was far more simple, but all that did was allow every component to be easily judged.

Clarise’s verdict was for her stomach to rumble even louder.

It was enough for several maids to pause in their conversations.

They turned around in trained instinct, eyes blinking in overwhelming confusion at the sight of their princess standing just past the doorway to their own dining facility.

She hummed in thought, smiled, then made her way to the nearest buffet table.

A moment later … she picked up a plate.

Mouths dropped at once.

“Y-Your Highness!” said the nearest maid, her tongs clutching a miniature rolled omelette as still as the look of horror on her face. “This … This is … !”

“Oh, please don’t mind me. I haven’t eaten yet and I realised I’m peckish.”

“But … But this is the buffet table! There isn’t anything suitable for your refined tastes! I … I can fetch something better from the kitchens!”

“No, no, it’s quite fine. There’s no need to trouble yourself. I believe this is a good opportunity to broaden my taste buds.”

As proof, Clarise went to the nearest stewing pot, then served herself a ladle of … something.

In truth, she was also deeply excited to experience such casual dining. Even in functions where a buffet table was present, her meals were at best served à la carte. It was highly rare that she was permitted to fetch anything herself.

She slowly made her way down the buffet tables, picking up anything which interested her, until her plate was eventually weighed down by enough things that she needed to begin balancing her food.

Still, she added a muffin to the top of the pile, then smiled with pride.

Applause rang out at once.

“A-Amazing! Princess Clarise is so worldly!”

“Your Highness, I had no idea you were this bold!”

“To … To ladle soup onto a plate! I had no idea royal cuisine was so advanced!”

“... Princess Clarise! Would you like to sit at our table?”

Gasps filled the air at once.

Irrespective of how cosmopolitan a princess was, for a maid to invite royalty to dine with them was an unbelievable breach of protocol.

In fact, it was so wild that the excited maid instantly paled, realising her faux pas the moment the words left her lips.

Clarise smiled regardless, then headed over to join the group of maids at their table.

Several almost fainted before she even sat down.

That was understandable. Eyebrows would be raised once the tale of her adventure had left this dining hall. And yet the maids clothed her, bathed her and carried her whenever she collapsed. She didn’t think it should be particularly strange to occasionally dine with them as well.

“Thank you,” she said, as she began unfolding her cutlery from a rolled napkin. “I do hope I’m not disturbing anyone. I understand my presence is slightly sudden.”

“Not at all! Your Highness is always welcome!”

“That’s right! You can always dine with us!”

“Next time, we’ll even make sure that the buffet table is stocked with your favourite desserts!”

Seeing the sparkling eyes directed at her, Clarise realised that she may have started something that would put considerable extra strain on the kitchens.

She made a mental note to inform them not to make any adjustments for her sake.

“My favourite desserts would be a poor fit for this buffet,” she said, as she poked the bottom of her food pile with a fork. “I fear they’re far too unhealthy. But I appreciate your dedication to ensuring all my needs are met. I am deeply grateful.”

“Y-Your Highness … !!”

The smiles blossomed around her … smiles which also meant that nobody was actually eating, and so Clarise took the initiative to test something covered in brown sauce.

Sensing that their princess really actually was peckish, the maids enthusiastically resumed dining again, but not without continually offering all their napkins for her use, conjuring them at will until they formed a giant pile.

It was, all in all, a highly enjoyable experience.

Clarise had little idea what she ate, only that it was enough that she wanted to try proposing self-service for the royal dining chamber as well.  The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the N()velFire.net

Feeling content, full and realising that the mist dispenser in the dining hall would have to wait until nobody was actually eating, Clarise was soon on her way again.

However, rather than returning straight to the observatory, she stopped to make an important detour.

Camembert Cellar

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Yes.

It was the only part of the buffet she disagreed with–as well as every maid, given that only she dared to sample it.

Standing outside the door of her father’s camembert cellar, the answer why was clear.

There was most definitely an added … pungence to it.

That was terrible. The camembert cellar was to her father what the observatory and all her life’s work was to her. The amount of cheese he’d nurtured over the decades was astronomical in both value and quantity.

If there was an issue with it, then it needed to be addressed. Dignitaries often included the camembert with any proposed trade deal, such was its effectiveness.

Fearing rodents had found their way through, Clarise fully widened the door and made her way down the modest staircase, all the while keeping her hand to her nose.

Her suspicions were proven true at once.

Beyond the many rows of aging camembert neatly arranged on the shelves, she saw the hint of a little tail scurrying away.

A moment later, she also heard the clear sound of a draft.

Somewhere was a hole in the wall and all the hungry mice that came with it.

With the light from the corridor no longer stretching far enough, she retrieved her wand from her toolkit and tapped it against the nearest shelf. A spark lit up the darkness ahead of her as she followed the sound of the distinctive whistle.

She found the culprit swiftly.

A crack in the back of the cellar. Except it was no tiny opening, but a gap wide enough to fit a hand through. Somewhere, the sound of dripping could be heard.

Clarise tilted her head in puzzlement.

She narrowed her eyes, then leaned slightly closer to look at the darkness–

Only to find that the darkness was looking back.