Felicia hummed as she sat at her desk and happily scribbled down the events of the day, “-you looked adorable in the clothes I designed for you. I absolutely must get a reputation as a trend-setter in society. Otherwise, once you are old, how will I be able to continue making you this handsome? You are too handsome to be left wearing whatever silly thing is popular now…”

As she transitioned from describing their reconciliation to complaining about current fashion trends, she spoke with DARS.

‘DARS, how is Rido and my future together as a family looking?’

[You have now officially avoided death, imprisonment, and banishment at the hands of your host’s son.]

‘Woohoo! Now I just have to raise him to be a competent noble and excellent politician.’ She paused for a moment, brow furrowed slightly, ‘Actually I’m not really confident I can make him a good politician. I can raise him to be a good noble, I think, since it’s similar to running a company… but I was never good with politics…’

[Then lean on the Marron Family.]

‘Marrons… because the Count is the leader of the Loyalist Faction?’

[Not his Faction specifically, though that has its uses. More importantly is the fact that Count Marron created and began networking his political beliefs at the age of 14, when most boys his age were more concerned with hunting and horseback riding.]

‘Wow…. so he’s politically savvy, is what you’re saying?’

[He is certainly more qualified at teaching Querido the dark world of politics than you or your host.]

‘That’s not saying much. Do you mean he is or isn’t savvy?’

[I will rephrase it then: he has managed to amass a large following despite his ideas being revolutionary for his time and unpopular among the most powerful people in the kingdom.]

Her hand stopped its writing.

‘Mmm…. so he’s a person that doesn’t compromise his beliefs just to go higher... politically that’s not very savvy, but morally it’s sound.’

[Correct.]

‘That will be good for Rido… oh yeah, in the corrupt timeline, what faction did he support?’

[Nobles Faction.]

‘Ugh. And the other guy… what’s his name… Heir Childe Invierno?’

[King’s Faction.]

‘I guess that means the Loyalists lost in the end…’ She sighed, ‘Rido can really change the course of this country?’

[Yes.]

She thought a bit more. ‘Can he do it by himself?’

[No, he needs the support of an existing faction.]

‘Does it matter which faction he supports?’

[Yes. If he chooses the wrong one, he will inevitably end up causing his country to implode and later, a world war.]

‘Eh? Shouldn’t you have told me something that important earlier?’

[You did not ask.]

‘...ugh.’

[Also, if he is raised correctly, he will naturally choose the best one for his country. He has… his fate is… Checking Language Database…] DARS three dots suddenly began scrolling over his face. Before Felicia could ask what he was doing, they stopped and he continued talking, [He has something akin to a “Main Character Halo”.]

Felicia almost choked from laughing, ‘He has a what?’

[To use story terms, he’s like a main character that is fated to win. The trials in his life should only make him stronger, wiser, and more capable. And at the end, the legacy he leaves behind is big enough it should cause a strong ripple through the rest of history.]

‘Wooooah… isn’t that fate a huge cheat? How is that fair to everyone else?’

[How is it unfair? Many people will benefit from his fate.]

‘Yeah but the rest of us aren’t guaranteed a win….’ She muttered sulkily.

[It is strange for you to complain about this, considering you have the most unfair advantage of anyone here, because I am helping you.]

She was struck speechless momentarily. It was true! What on earth was she complaining about?

A little embarrassed at her sulking, she lightly changed the subject, ‘...who makes the fates anyway?’

[You are not to the point where you can know that information.]

‘Still restricted, huh? Bummer.’ She mentally shrugged since she wasn’t surprised before continuing, ‘Ok, so he’s got this halo that should keep him from losing. What happened in the corrupted timeline that caused everything to fall apart?’

[The trials that were meant to make him strong, broke him. The lessons he was supposed to learn to make him a better man, made him angry and bitter instead. Using story terms once again, he went from a hero to a villain. He lost his halo in the process.]

‘Uh oh. And that’s why a war broke out?’

[Yes. He was meant to make this country strong and stabilize it. Not only did those things not happen, he actively sabotaged it. If he had never been born, the country could have existed another 100 years. But because he used the inborn talents meant for a hero to be villainous, he brought his country to an early ruin.]

‘So the corruption… were the trials meant to toughen him up? They were too hard?’

[They were your host.]

Felicia pointed at herself in surprise.

[Yes, the sins of his mother caused him to fall into darkness. Though she was never meant to be kind, she was also never meant to be so cruel. What you see in your host's memories, the first 6 years of Querido’s life, were only the beginning to how she tortured him. Killing her was not enough to heal the scars she left on his mind. He was tormented by her, as if she were a ghost whispering in his ear, up until the day he died.]

‘Well… frick.’ She frowned slightly and then raised her eyebrows, ‘Is that why this host is so willful and can fight against me to the degree that she does? Because she’s the source of corruption?’

[Yes. Querido’s “halo” is a strong positive force and his influence can greatly change a person’s life for the better.]

‘Like a good luck charm?’

[More like how main characters typically change the lives around them, making them better people or turning enemies into allies.]

‘Huh... that makes a weird sort of sense...’

[This secondary-halo only works on certain types of people. His mother was never meant to be one of those people, but the corruption turned her into one.]

‘Then shouldn’t she have become a better person?’

[If it made sense we wouldn’t call it a corruption.]

‘...point taken.’

[Instead of turning her into a better person, the secondary-halo effect made her worse. Her ability to acquire what she wanted increased unnaturally, amplifying her flaws. She was able to indulge in her vices excessively, making her sink further into her depravity.]

‘Frick! Here I thought her rotten personality was to blame but in the end fate was the real culprit…’

[Corrupted fate. Do not confuse normal fate with corrupted fate. In normal fate there is always choice in how you go about fulfilling it, just like with your missions. But in corrupted fate, there is no choice. Remember how it was with Darius. The corruption in that timeline forced Janice to be obsessed with him the moment she saw him and, in turn, forced Darius to become obsessed with Jenny the moment he saw her. They were deprived of their ability to choose. Corruption is always like that.]

‘Yeah but at least Jenny was alive in the corrupted timeline, so there’s that.’

[And the children she had thanks to never meeting Darius? Do they not matter?]

‘Didn’t Jenny and Darius have a kid? What about the fact that he never had a chance to exist? Doesn’t he matter too?’ She countered.

[It’s not that he doesn’t matter. There are timelines where he is meant to be born, and in those timelines his existence is good and right. But in the timeline you were in, he was not meant to be born. By being born in that timeline, he deprived others of their right to exist.]

‘....oh.’ Felicia was silent for a long time before muttering, ‘Why is it alright for a person to exist in one timeline but not another? Actually, what makes a corrupted fate really corrupt in the end..?’

[All timelines have an overarching fate and all the individuals in that timeline must abide by it. At certain points in history, a person’s individual fate intersects with the timeline’s overarching fate. If these individual fates interfere with the overarching fate, it is considered a corrupt fate. Also, corrupt fates themselves aren’t natural, often resulting in the individuals acting in ways they would not normally behave.]

Felicia squinted at him. He’d said something like this before and it always led to the question: If fate was an inevitable outcome, how could it ever be corrupted? Basically, fate by its nature should be incorruptible. Yet it obviously did get corrupted, and DARS and his Boss were there to correct or fix the corruptions.

This in turn led her to think: if DARS existed to fix fate, did that mean someone made fates to begin with? These someones made these fates, but they somehow ended up corrupted? How could someone who determined the existence of an entire universe miss these corruptions?

A mistake? Accident? Malicious destruction? Laziness?

Felicia really wanted to know who it was doing all this and pop them in the face with her fist!

Was it God? Or was it many gods, like the Greek or Hindu pantheon? Perhaps a very powerful being like DARS’ Boss? If that Boss existed, it wasn’t too unbelievable to think others existed like him, just doing a different job than him…

She hoped it was someone like DARS’ Boss. She was confident she could get away with punching him, she wasn’t confident about punching a god like Ares or Shiva… much less a really big god like Zues… what if it was something like Vishnu? Or the Jewish God, Adonai? Or the Christian God, Jehovah? The more she thought about it, the more endless the possibilities...

...maybe just send a strongly worded complaint letter if it was a really big powerful god...

If only DARS would clarify who was goofing up the timelines!

It was really aggravating being ignorant!

There was no point in asking DARS again about who made fates. Maybe the next timeline she could find out, but obviously not in this one. That being the case, she asked a question she felt she could get an answer to.

‘I’m curious, what was Calle’s original fate supposed to be?’

[It is similar to the current timeline, but she would only neglect Querido, not directly abuse and torture him. She was also never meant to die at her son’s hands. In fact, she was only to be a mild thorn in his side.]

She immediately noticed a discrepency, ‘Ok so… shouldn’t I be a thorn in his side? Why is my mission goal the exact opposite of that? Why am I supposed to… be a good parent? Shouldn’t it be to just ignore him?’

[Compensation.]

‘Compen… sation…?’

[He is not like a normal boy. He remembers and understands things like an adult, but with a child’s limited experience. Therefore, the treatment over the last year has embedded a deep insecurity into his mind that can’t be easily overcome. To go forward, he needs a mother’s love.]

‘Why not bring me here a year earlier then and avoid all this mess?!’

[Would you have really been able to ignore him the way the host could have?]

Felicia hesitated, ‘...if I had to….’

[Self-deception. We both know you wouldn’t be able to do it.] DARS firmly rebutted and then added, [Besides, there is another reason.]

‘And that is?’

[...]

‘.........’

[That information is—]

‘NEVERMIND!’ She looked at him aggrieved, ‘Why even say anything if you knew you couldn’t tell me the whole truth?’

[You will continue to ask, I preempted the question.]

‘You saucy little… whatever! What was I even expecting… Oh yeah, speaking of expectations, why didn’t you think all this critical background info wasn’t important enough to tell me weeks ago?’ She pointed at him, ‘And don’t say it’s because I didn’t ask. Aren’t you supposed to help me? This is a mission related thing, you should be able to say even without me asking.’

A / appeared on his face, [Actually I did not know the host would be this… difficult. It was thought, because your existence is a loophole, it should counter the corruption of the host. When it became clear that the host was still fighting you so strongly, I thought it may be a bug and tried to use my debugging program to fix it while you were asleep. That did not work. I immediately sent a Bug Repair Request…]

‘And?’

[...It was decided it wasn’t worth fixing.]

‘...’

[Though it is technically a bug, because it is not endangering the host or breaking the overall functions of the system, fixing it is a low priority... It was said this bug is more like a hidden feature. It will challenge the user and help the user grow stronger…] DARS saw Felicia’s face darkening and quickly added a reminder, [I did not say that, it was in the response I got.]

Felicia’s grip on her quill tightened until it snapped in half. She upturned invisible mental tables for several minutes.

DARS watched her throw a mental fit and sighed. [This was why I did not tell you. I knew you would not like hearing it. The problem was left unfixed, the answer was unpleasant. If you did not ask, I was not going to say.]

‘Ignorance is bliss huh? Hehehe. Your Boss… that guy… hehehehe… I swear if I ever met him, the things I’ll do to him...’ She began tearing her broken quill apart, defeathering it while imagining it was DARS’ Boss. After a while, she snapped out of her vindictive daydreaming and took several deep breaths to calm down.

It was way too easy to get absorbed in negative emotions in this host.

Didn’t DARS say his creator was unsympathetic? He already kidnapped her soul and forced her into working for him, now he wouldn’t even do his job as a Boss properly! DARS was right, that guy was heartless by nature. She shouldn’t have any expectations from him…

Feeling herself spiraling down an emotional pit again, she muttered to herself, trying to refocus, ‘Alright, let’s think positive… Querido… the Marrons… Loyalist Faction… lead character halo… ok!’

She exhaled noisily and pulled out a new quill. ‘Since I’m Querido’s mother, I’m already fixing the corruption by existing and not being a lunatic. My guess is you picked the best faction in the kingdom for Querido to join, one that works nicely with his, er, heroic destiny. Right?’

[Correct.]

‘Mm… am I also correct in assuming, even if we hadn’t gotten a connection directly with the Marrons, Querido would have found a way to join the Loyalist Faction?’

[Correct. But it is faster to start with the leader of the Faction, than work through someone else.]

‘Naturally. We were lucky to go to the Duchess’ party and meet them…’ She paused, ‘Or was that fated?’

[As the loophole in the timeline, the only fate you have is the mission goals.]

She paused and then nodded slowly, ‘Oh yeah, you mentioned my missions being like fates before… they are similar... how I complete them is entirely up to me but I do need to complete them… oh, but I can fail, so there’s that difference.’

[Can it be called failing when you are simply forced to start over from the beginning?]

She shuddered. Restarting only sounded appealing if you didn’t consider the amount of work put into fixing a timeline. Though she’d only been here several weeks, if she’d had to start all over again.. That wasn’t a salvation it was torture….

‘Urk, let’s not think about that…’ She muttered to herself then reached into her desk and took out a small piece of paper. Dipping her new quill into the ink, she began to write again. On the paper it read: Dear Countess Marron, If possible I would like to visit you within the next two weeks. Please let me know when would be a good time to come over. Waiting for your reply, Marchioness Fresa.’

Originally she was going to wait another week or two before sending this. She was worried being too eager might scare the Countess rather than make her more open to a friendship between them. But now she didn’t feel like waiting.

It took a day for her calling card to reach the Marron estate. If the Countess was eager to see her, a return card with a time and date would arrive the following day. Realistically, Felicia didn’t expect to receive a card that soon. They may be neighbors, but Calle hadn’t acted like it in the past. A single party was not enough to bridge the gap. The Countess was also ill and would need time to recuperate from her trip. Sure enough, it was a whole week before Felicia received a reply.

When Felicia popped the envelope open, she was relieved that it was an acceptance reply with a date listed for when she could visit. The day to visit was the following week, which was inline with Felicia’s original request. Countess Marron could have pushed the visit to a month out and that would have still been acceptable.

She was humming happily when the Housekeeper requested to see her. Felicia had made it a habit of dealing with mansion business in the Sunset Sitting room. Without it ever being stated explicitly everyone now knew as long as the Marchioness was in that room, she was available for mansion business. It happened she’d been in the room when receiving the Countess’ reply.

“Come in and sit.” Felicia said when the Housekeeper entered the room.

The Housekeeper immediately sat without being shy. Her expression, however, was clearly uncomfortable and she was clutching her hands tightly on her lap.

Felicia’s eyebrows rose sharply, “Speak.”

“Marchioness… I hope this is not.. overstepping…” The Housekeeper faltered, looking down at her calloused hands nervously, “In the past I would not… bring this up but… this is somewhat sensitive… and I thought you might… want to know so...”

Seeing her acting this way, Felicia knew it must be bad news. She looked towards her attending maids and motioned with her chin for them to leave the room. They left without further prompting.

“All unwanted eyes and ears are gone,” Tapping her finger impatiently on the seat arm rest, she said curtly, “stop dawdling, it’s annoying. Speak.”

The Housekeeper straightened her spine, knowing this harsh statement was the Marchioness’ way of telling her not to be afraid.

“While you were gone Steward Doblar went out and… gambled… again.”

Felicia's tapping finger stopped.

“And why does that matter to me?”

“In the past… he would take from the mansion funds… to… to pay the debts he owed.”

Felicia’s body stiffened, face darkening.

“He can’t think I will allow that again?”

“It seems he did not heed your warning.”

She gave a light sneer. Apparently he didn’t think she’d back her words up with action.

“Um….that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“It’s just… the people he owes money to… aren’t good people… they come here directly if the payment is not prompt… if they don’t… if they don’t get the money… they threaten and beat the mansion servants…”

“They dare touch my people?!” She slammed her hand down on the arm rest furiously.

The Housekeeper flinched but her resolve grew at seeing the Marchioness get angry. The Marchioness wasn’t angry about the money, but the people. In her heart, the Housekeeper’s respect grew and a sincere affection for the Marchioness blossomed.

“I am afraid they do.” The Housekeeper spoke more confidently this time. “The Steward refuses to show his face when they come to demand payment. It’s up to us, myself included, to deal with them.”

“That coward charges his debts to my house’s account and won’t even show his face when it’s time to pay?” A low rippling laugh came out of her mouth. “Very well then, he has played me a fool for years, but not again. Call the Head Chef, the Steward, and all the Senior staff to me in the next ten minutes.”

“Yes, Marchioness.” The Housekeeper stood up, gave a simple bow of the head for politeness’ sake, and left.

Felicia went over to the door and brought her maids inside. She stared at them for a long moment before saying, “I want you to answer honestly. Is it true the Steward’s gambling has caused people in the mansion to get beaten up?”

The maids glanced at each other and then nodded.

Felicia sighed and then ordered one of her maids, “Bring the black box with the silver lining to me.”

All the maids’ faces paled.

“Marchioness, you mean the—?”

“Yes. Now go.”

One of the maids left in a hurry and Felicia turned to the others, giving out a stream of orders.

[What are you going to do?] DARS asked curiously after she finished.

‘Putting a nasty skill set my host has to some good use.’

In 15 minutes, Felicia had a crowd of senior servants following her outside. No one, not even the Housekeeper, knew where she was going or why. They arrived at a side entrance that was commonly used for servants.

Before she stepped out of the mansion she took a deep breath and said to the host, ‘Trust me and I’ll show you what it means to be truly feared and respected.’

A rug had been put down in a seemingly random area and on it sat an ornate chair. Behind the chair stood her maids and next to the chair was Rido and his Nanny. When Felicia saw Rido, she gave a brilliant smile, which he returned in a slightly puzzled manner.

“Stay.” She told the senior servants when they got to a particular distance from the chair. She then walked forward and kissed Rido on the forehead. She took him by the hand and pointed at the chair, saying “Sit”. He promptly did as he was told, though he looked even more confused.

Servants who usually went in and out at this entrance found a big play happening right outside the door. Many openly stopped their work to come and gawk, while others ran away to bring more servants to come watch this strange show from the windows.

Felicia straightened herself to her full height and then commanded, “Steward Doblar, come forward.”

The Steward was so startled by being called out that at first he didn’t move.

“I said, Steward Doblar, come forward.” Felicia repeated again.

This time the Steward stepped forward as he’d been commanded. His expression was one of trepidation but with a hint of arrogance and anger.

Felicia waved to a maid carrying several accounting books. Picking one up, she projected her voice, “I have both written and eyewitness accounts that the Steward has misappropriated funds from the mansion. These funds were used to pay his gambling debts. This is theft, stealing from the pockets of his master. What’s more, I have heard testimony from reliable eyewitnesses that if these debts were not paid back quickly enough, ruffians were allowed to trespass onto the estate ground and harm servants of the mansion.”

The Stewards face paled, “Marchioness, where did you hear—”

“Silence Steward, I am not done talking.” She glanced at those standing behind him. “Is there any of you with evidence, whether written or verbal, that can contradict my statements?”

No one dared speak, none were even willing to look her in the eye. Many had no clue what “misappropriated funds” meant, but they were very clear on the Steward’s gambling problem.

By now the Steward would be a fool not to understand what she was doing. He took a step forward and opened his mouth to say something again. Felicia frowned and turned to the sizable crowd that had formed around them.

“You there, restrain him.” The stocky servants who’d been pointed at from the crowd eagerly came forward and grabbed the Steward so quickly he didn’t have a chance to defend himself.

“My Lady!” The Steward shrieked out indignantly, “I have been a loyal servant! I have done everything you’ve asked, EVERYTHING. How could you return my loyalty with this public humiliation? Do you think anyone here can obey the orders you give when no one is looking? Do you think they will be as discreet as I am?”

Felicia ignored his threats disguised as pleading and borrowed a handkerchief from one of her maids. Cloth in hand, she walked right up to the Steward and brought it to his mouth.

Seeing his ability to talk about to get removed, he shouted, “The Viscount will not— urgmm!”

His words were cut off as she shoved her handkerchief into his mouth.

“Someone bring some ropes to tie this man down.” Felicia calmly ordered. Very shortly the ropes were brought and his arms and legs were tied, forcing him into an awkward kneeling position.

Felicia glanced at Rido who had been watching with wide eyes and said, “Heir Childe, someday you will rule this March. The mansion is a small example of what you will experience in the future. The first thing you, inexperienced and young though you are, must learn is that no one may be accused of a crime without proper evidence. Even God himself does not judge us on hearsay and rumor, but our actions. How can we do what even God doesn’t do? Do you understand?”

Querido thought very carefully over her words before saying, “Yes Mother.”

“What crimes have I accused him of?”

“Stealing from his master.”

“There are two more.”

The little boy frowned slightly and then said, “The… allowing trespassers… and… the servants being harmed?”

“Was the Steward at fault for these two crimes?”

Querido was silent and then nodded.

“Why?”

“Because the ruffians wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t stolen from the mansion.”

“Correct. What proof did I give to show he committed this crime?”

“You brought those books—”

“Account books of the mansion, which the Steward himself wrote, that list what money was earned and spent. These show when his debts were repaid.”

He nodded showing he understood her explanation, “—and that people saw him stealing.”

“When you want to charge someone with a crime, you must always have proof. If someone is accused, do not assume they are guilty or innocent until you’ve seen all the evidence. Make sure to ask questions, particularly if eyewitnesses are involved. Personal grudges and threats can cause people to lie. When they lie, there are bound to be inconsistencies in their testimony. All these things you must find out for yourself. You, the future ruler of the March, must always strive to be impartial. This way, those who are truly guilty will be punished and those who are truly innocent will be saved. Only then can you raise yourself above the barbarians of the world and become a truly civilized nobleman.”

[Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical?] DARS pointed out. She’d assumed the Steward was guilty from the beginning.

‘Quiet you, we both know that guy’s a rat!’

“Yes Mother.”

She then turned to the crowd and asked, “Which of you have been beaten by those who came to pay off the Steward’s debt?”

For a moment no one moved.

“Just raise your hand if you are unwilling to talk.” She tilted her head, “Or do you prefer he continues getting away with his misdeeds?”

The Housekeeper suddenly raised her hand, her eyes shut in fear of her own boldness. They all lived in fear of the Steward, even the Housekeeper. Seeing her directly pit herself against him shocked the audience but also emboldened them. Several more people raised their hands.

Felicia counted out loud, “One, two… five… nine… alright, eleven. Lower your hands.”

Looking at Querido she continued, “Once you have gathered the evidence, you accuse the criminal. You can accuse a criminal publicly or privately. In this case, I chose to publicly accuse. Can you guess why?”

Querido thought so hard his face scrunched up, “Because… his crimes were public?”

“Indeed, those with Mora blood are smarter than the rest.” Felicia said, impressed a child his age made that connection. He really was like a more social version of Darius! “His crimes were public, his accusation and judgement will be public. Judgements must be just. To be just, a judgement must be a punishment that fits the crime. Excess punishment is not justice, it is oppression and tyranny. A just judgement inspires the people to live honorably and instills fear into those who may think to break the law. Perhaps… they will not break the law at all when they see what justice looks like.”

The little boy nodded slowly, an expression one of enlightenment.

The servants, however, were astonished at the Marchioness’ words. When did nobles care about being just and fair? Much less inspiring people? And if she really believed what she was saying, didn’t that mean she was a tyrant? And not just her, the Viscount…

Thinking about the Viscount made everyone break out in a cold sweat. The Steward the Viscount’s man. Was doing this to the Viscount’s man really alright?

Felicia motioned to another of her maids. The maid stepped forward with a rectangular black box lined with silver along the edges, her whole body trembling. When Felicia went to open it, the box was shaking slightly because of the maid. Inside was a black cat o’ nine tails whip with a silver lined handle. She took it out and everyone in the vicinity, except for Querido who’d never seen one before, gave an audible gasp.

“Heir Childe, how many servants were beaten up by the debt collectors?”

“Eleven.”

She stepped towards the Steward with a lazy expression. At the sight of the cat o’ nine tails swinging in her hand, he frantically began struggling. His eyes glared accusingly at everyone around him, bulging and red. He tried to yell but the cloth stuffed in his mouth prevented anything but muffled groans from escaping.

Felicia ordered the men holding him down, “Strip him.”

They hesitated and she tilted her head, waving the whip lightly in her hand, “Who is the noble here? Him or me?”

Hearing this, their doubts about participating in the punishment of the Viscount’s man cleared. No matter how they looked at it, they would suffer under a noble. The most dangerous noble wasn’t in the mansion and the second most dangerous noble had her whip out and ready to use. Immediate danger took precedence.

They also hated the Steward. Even if this came back to bite them later, seeing him get punished for once was deeply satisfying.

The Steward fought the men holding him down to such a degree that other burly servants had to come forward to help. After ten minutes, they finally got him down to his underpants, which were just undyed thin trousers that went to his mid-caf.

“As I am the Guardian and Marchioness of the mansion the Steward directly reports to me, therefore I am responsible for his punishment. I declare before the Heir Childe and all watching as witnesses, his punishment: For the crime of theft, he is stripped of his position. As this man’s clothing was provided by the mansion, he is stripped of those too. He will take nothing with him that he earned as Steward when he leaves. For the crime of allowing violent men into the estate who harmed Fresa mansion servants, he will be flogged. Eleven servants were harmed because of this man, so he will be flogged eleven times. Additionally, because he has incurred debt he can not repay, he will be thrown into debtors prison.”

She motioned to the servants to force the Steward to turn and kneel, his bare back facing her. The Steward was still yelling, now more panicked, with the cloth stuffed in his mouth but no one cared. They were watching with wide eyes, entranced. They had never expected to see the day the Steward would get treated like a common criminal.

Felicia lifted her cat o’ nine tails whip and paused, just for a split second, to channel her host’s viciousness. Calle had no problem whipping servants but Felicia wasn’t used to this method of punishment and was naturally bothered by it.

Even though the Steward was absolutely guilty, in her era and timeline his crime would have gotten him a fine and jail time from the courts. But in this era and timeline, justice came in a very different form. Floggings were as standard as throwing a man in prison would be for a crime in her time.

Between commoners, thieves were expected to pay back what they stole and were sentenced to a public flogging. But to steal from a Noble was a different matter. A noble could charge a commoner with any kind of punishment they wanted as long as it didn’t conflict with the King’s Law. Noble’s sentences for commoner thieves usually resulted in them dying, either by hanging or beheading.

To modern people Felicia’s judgement was harsh and cruel, especially done in front of a child, but for this time period she was being especially lenient. What’s more, she was showing through this punishment what she valued. While it was wrong for him to steal, he only lost his job for that. What got him flogged and humiliated in public was harming the other servants through his action. And by sending him to debtor’s prison, it was clear she had no interest in taking his life.

As to why she was personally flogging him…. No one else would do it. He was the Viscount’s man, they wouldn’t touch him for fear of losing their lives. But the Marchioness was a different matter. She could flog whoever she liked. Even if they wanted to save the Steward—which she doubted—they couldn’t disobey the noble in front of them.

This was all done in front of Querido so that he could understand what it meant to rule, how to rule, and also the kind of person his mother was as a ruler. This method of teaching was undeniably harsh, even by this country’s ethics, but her host had never been gentle. Though Felicia changed the worst aspects of Calle, certain things needed to remain for consistency's sake and for self-preservation. After all, Calle was a widow with a traitorous Viscount nipping at her heels. She couldn't afford to be perceived as weak or too kind.

The trials Rido went through now would help him grow stronger later. She could not ignore him as her host should have, nor could she abuse him as the host had already done, but he still needed some kind of friction in his life. Otherwise he would not be as strong as he should be when he grew up. This was her way of compromising.

Her arm came down, the cat o’ nine with it, in a smooth arc. Calle had used all kinds of whips on her servants and was unfortunately an expert. Most didn’t do anything more than sting through clothes and on skin leave a welt or shallow cut. The cat o’ nine tails was a different matter. This thing could do some serious damage.

But even here she was showing restraint. A flogging for theft was usually, at least, 30 strikes. Enough to mangle a person’s back. Eleven strikes would cause only a light injury. It would heal relatively quickly with minimal scarring.

Of course a “light injury” would still hurt like frick.

She counted each strike aloud, reminding her audience that this flogging wasn’t for the theft but those who had been injured. Some of the women watching flinched, but most showed no sign of being upset and a few even looked satisfied. Not unexpectedly, those who looked most pleased had been the ones who raised their hands earlier, including the Housekeeper.

Once she was finished, her eyes fell on the Butler. The man’s whole body shuddered under her gaze. He was directly under the Steward. Naturally he knew everything the Steward did and sometimes even helped him.

“Butler Cambiar.”

“Y-yes Marchioness.”

“Wash the Steward’s back and wrap it to prevent festering. Then find a plain shirt and pants for him to wear and send him directly to debtor’s prison.”

“Yes Marchioness.”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“The moment he is in debtor’s prison, you are the new Steward.”

Cambiar’s mouth fell open. He’d been too worried about saving himself to think about who would be the next Steward.

The Marchioness gave him a pleasant smile, “Butler Cambiar, I hope that you will not disappoint me like your predecessor did. Otherwise...”

“No need to worry Marchioness. I will definitely live up to your expectations.” The Butler immediately responded in false humility, barely able to hide his excitement.

“As you should.”

The newly promoted Cambiar eagerly had Doblar dragged away to have his wounds cleaned and his clothes changed. He would personally make sure Doblar was firmly placed in debtor’s prison, otherwise the man might escape and who knew how long Cambiar could be the Steward?

DARS watched Cambiar leave and asked, [Is it wise to promote him?]

‘It’s not like I can afford to be picky.’ Felicia huffed mentally. ‘Right now, everyone in the fief is too scared of the Viscount to be really loyal to me. So I might as well promote the person that’s somewhat qualified, which is Cambiar. Besides, I’m not planning on cleaning this fief up, I’ve got another plan…’

She didn’t finish her thought but glanced around at the gawkers, “Don’t you all have jobs to attend to?”

The junior servants immediately scattered. The only ones left were the senior servants, her maids, Rido and his nanny.

As she was putting away her whip, she spoke to the senior servants, “I hope I have made it clear what I will and won’t tolerate from those employed by the Fresa Family.”

“Yes, Marchioness!” They responded as a group.

“I know what people say about me. That I am fickle and cruel, arrogant and spoiled… that I am a witch who stole her son’s soul to caste curses.” The senior servants noticeably paled at her mentioning the witch rumor, while Rido’s eyebrows furrowed at finding out he was considered soulless. “I will not defend my past actions. I am a noble and the last people who have the right to judge me are you. But know that I take my duties as a noble seriously and will henceforth utilize the full weight of my position in this mansion. If you are loyal to me now, and by proxy the Heir Childe, your loyalty will not go unrewarded. If you chose to put your loyalties somewhere else…” Her eyes narrowed, “...only the King and God will be able to save you in the end.”

This time no one responded to her, remaining uncomfortably silent. They all knew what she was asking and they didn’t know what to say. They felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Felicia saw them being timid and understanding why, decided to ease up, “Well, that matter is for the future. For now, do your jobs well and nothing will happen to you. You are dismissed.”

They were relieved to be let go and made to leave. They’d only taken a few steps when they heard the Marchioness say, “Oh, I almost forgot! Things the Viscount need not know, he should not know. If he were to hear certain things I said to you today…. It won’t be difficult for me to find out who told him.”

Every last one of them that had thought of ratting her out to the Viscount trembled, almost running away from her in fear. After how she arranged things in the mansion, knowing things she shouldn’t know, they weren’t stupid enough to think she wouldn’t be able to find out who squealed on her to the Viscount.

Felicia turned her attention back to Querido. He was sitting quietly in his chair, his expression serious. She walked up to him and then lowered her body until it was level with him.

“My son, was I very imposing and terrible to watch?”

He looked at her silently and shook his head in exaggerated movements. She chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“Why does Heir Childe think I had him witness all this?”

Querido pondered for a moment, “To teach me?”

“The children of the Mora Family are, indeed, clever.”

The young boy blushed slightly, apparently not expecting a compliment— even if it was a roundabout one.

She smiled and motioned him off the chair. After he jumped down, she took his hand and walked towards the backyard. The maids went to follow her but she shook her head.

“Take the whip back and keep yourselves occupied until I call you.” She told them. They promptly obeyed, leaving only the mute Nanny.

The three walked without speaking for quite some time, until finally they’d reached the gardens.

“My son,” Calle spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “There are few allies in the March...”

“Mother?” Came his confused reply.

She looked down at him, an expression of apology. “I am a Marchioness… in name only. What I did today... is the furthest extent of my power.”

Querido's mouth fell open slightly, stunned by her admission of weakness.

“The Mora Family has clever children, smart at a young age, and able to understand even what adults say…” She gave a wry chuckle and then squeezed his smaller hand, lips pressing together solemnly, “Usually the Heir Childe is taught simple etiquette when they are 8 and the easiest parts of fief management begin when they are 12 but my situation is too dangerous to wait that long. I knew… you could… I knew a child of my blood was intelligent enough to learn earlier than an ordinary child. An ordinary child… can not… this place is filled with enemies... the governess was too good at her job… that you learned from her so well… acceptable, it is acceptable to me… but I must… I can not... allow it again...”

Felicia grit her teeth in frustration, her ability to communicate properly was breaking down. As long as it was boasting about herself or her lineage, no matter how obviously false, this host would embrace it wholeheartedly. Admitting she wasn’t in control of the fief, the host barely tolerated that. Probably only because she was speaking to a child did she let it slide. Admitting she’d been a disaster as a mother and done it all wrong? Not happening.

Querido frowned, thinking deeply on her words. Finally his grip on her hand tightened and he asked slowly, “Mother, are you… are you worried about me, how I will survive? Are you sad that you are trying your best but failing? Does that mean… Mama, are you sorry for failing to… protect me?”

Felicia stopped walking and bit her lower lip, eyes watering. This kid was too good for this world. No wonder DARS compared him to a main character. Only someone blessed with something extra could figure out what she was trying to say through her host’s filter.

She placed her free hand on his head and spoke in a heartbroken voice, “My son… my son…”

Tears started falling from her eyes, ‘I’m sorry my host won’t let me apologize properly for what she did. I’m sorry she still views you as a tool and so won’t let me say “I love you”. I’m sorry you can never show your beautiful emerald hair… I’m sorry… I’m sorry...’

Querido's eyes grew round as he watched his mother cry over him. He didn’t think she was capable of feeling weak or apologetic, but she’d done both in the span of a few minutes.

From as far back as he could recall, his “mother” had not loved him. He was sent away to a small cottage when he was young, something he could vaguely recall even now. There he lived alone with his Nanny, surrounded by nothing more than a forest and wild animals for company. Sometimes they went into a distant village for supplies, where they both stayed covered in cloaks so people wouldn’t recognize them. If not for that, he likely would never have learned to speak properly because his Nanny was mute.

Occasionally his “mother” would come visit him. Everytime she would tug at his hair and look disapproving, saying “still too thin and soft”. He realized early on something was wrong with his hair. To this day, he did not understand what had been wrong. There were no mirrors or glass for him to see himself.

He dared ask his Nanny once and got slapped in the mouth for it. It was the only time his Nanny ever hit him, but the fear in her eyes stung more than the hit. Therefore, he never asked again.

Though he’d been ignorant and longed for friends like he saw in the village, it had been peaceful and his Nanny had loved him sincerely. Even now, he looked back on that time with longing. Things had been simple then, before his “mother” came one day and was finally satisfied with his hair.

After that, for the first time his “mother” spent real time with him and took him out to meet people. He didn’t know what to say or do around his peers and so imitated his Nanny by being quiet, something that had always worked before. This had been a mistake. His “mother” smacked his head until he was dizzy and scolded him for humiliating her until his ears hurt. When he expressed he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong, she’d been further enraged. So she brought in THAT governess to teach him.

The governess taught him many things, but the most important thing was how to hide and deceive others using that thing adults called “manners” and “polite speech”. What he didn’t know, he used etiquette to hide. He watched and learned, down to the smallest detail, every little thing he could about the world and people around him. Because he knew, it was safer in the long run to not be ignorant at all than to hide his ignorance.

Just through observing the servants passing comments and behavior he learned a lot. He found out his “mother” was hated. He had even been secretly delighted to discover he wasn’t alone in his hostile feelings towards her. In fact, he was justified in not liking her. No one liked her. Even if he was told to be grateful to this person called “mother” he didn’t see why. If she didn’t care about him, why should he care about her?

When he learned what a Heir Childe was he laughed in his heart. This person who called herself “mother” demanded obedience and respect, but in the end she would have to bow her head to him. Someday when he had the power, he could do whatever he wanted to her, just as she had done to him. And all he wanted was for her to disappear, just like he wanted the governess gone…

He hated his “mother” but did he really? Did he even know her well enough to hate her?

In the cottage she rarely visited him and barely talked to him. Truthfully, he hadn’t interacted with her much until very recently. The first time they had any kind of conversation—if it could be called that—was the day he’d failed on his first outing. After that, he was thrown to the governess and again ignored him.

Thinking about it now, most of his information came from the servants. He didn’t talk to her enough to know her own thoughts on anything.

But he had spent time with her now. She was stiff and awkward, her words were often fierce and sometimes cruel. Yet her actions were gentle, and if not gentle, then at least reasonable. Even when she humiliated and flogged a man today, she did so for a reason and without showing a trace of anger or arrogance.

A person like her... who spoke harshly and punished coldly, who was perfect in her etiquette but awkward in her communication… could very easily be misunderstood. No, she WAS misunderstood. All the time.

A memory of her talking to the governess about his bruises surfaced in his mind’s eyes. Her exact words had been “For the Heir Childe to have bruises showing is not appropriate. Who do you think will get blamed when they see him like this? How can I possibly take him out? Are you trying to destroy my reputation? If I see this again, hah… I don’t think I need to say what will happen.”

She’d been furious at the governess, scaring that wicked woman stiff. For many days after the governess did not raise her “manner stick” to him. But then, apparently unable to resist, she continued her beatings, only this time making sure the bruises didn’t show. When his mother seemed pleased because she didn't see any bruises, he’d assumed....

But no. Thinking about it now, couldn’t it be she was actually telling the governess not to beat him rather than simply hiding the bruises? The governess was the one who decided that his mother had meant simply to hide them. Perhaps his mother thought that, seeing no more bruises, the governess had actually stopped beating him… and he had not bothered to say anything at the time…

This made sense to him. She had seen the healing bruises later and looked so sad. It was clear she didn’t know the governess had continued her beatings.

Before the governess, he had no feelings at all towards his mother. She was just a woman who sometimes visited and spoke nastily, otherwise she had no involvement in his life. It was only when he was under the governess’ “care” that he’d begun to truly hate her. It could be said that the reason he hated his mother was the governess, not specifically because of how his mother treated him.

If what his mother said now was correct, that there were few friends and her power was limited, then didn’t that mean she was in a similar situation as he had been with the governess? Was she being pressured to act and behave a certain way that was contrary to her intentions, because if she didn’t, she’d get beaten? Were the people around her beating his mother where and in ways no one could see, just as the governess had done to him? If that were so…

...wasn’t her situation far worse than his? His mother could dismiss the evil governess from his life, but who could dismiss the bad people surrounding her?

Was that the reason she’d hired such a harsh governess to begin with? Had she hoped to toughen him up so he wouldn’t be caught off guard by the bad people surrounding them? Only later to discover that the governess had “done her job too well”?

His heart clenched at this new thought. Could that be? Could that really be why…?

He was certain not all her past behaviors could be explained just with this, but he wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that she truly loved him and that the tears of regret and sorrow she was shedding in front of him for how he’d been treated were real. The compulsion was so strong it was overwhelming all his rational thought.

Though it made little sense and was outright foolish, he chose to trust.

The moment he decided to trust her a great peace filled his soul. It was as if the wrongness of the world around him that incited so much fear, hatred, and anxiety in him had been washed away. Even if they had few friends, even if life was hard or painful, he felt with a certainty that went down to the bottom of his feet that he— they— would be alright.

He would make sure of it.

Querido tugged on his mother’s hand urgently, his face very serious as he urged, “Mama, don’t cry! I will protect you Mama, you don’t need to worry anymore!”

Felicia’s teary eyes widened at his heroic declaration. Her eyes flashed with amusement and she couldn’t help thinking he was adorable.

“Who said I’m crying?” She gave a great sniffle, destroying her credibility instantly, and poked his forehead, “And I, the Marchioness of the Fresa March and only daughter of the Mora Family, certainly don’t need a babe to protect me!”

He pouted, his lower lip poking out at her, apparently displeased that she did not believe him.

“I can’t help that I am a child.” He muttered in a vexed tone. Lifting his chin confidently, he declared, “When I am big, I will definitely protect you. Until then… er…. Until then…. I will learn everything!”

Felicia cocked an eyebrow, clearly not believing.

“I will!” He stomped his feet in a temper. “I will learn so much that when I am big, no one will be smarter than me! And then no one can do anything because anything they try to do, I will have thought they would do it beforehand!”

Felicia turned her head away and spent a few seconds suppressing the desire to burst out into laughter. Regardless of the fact that he could do it and she knew he would do it, it was still coming out of a 6 year old boy’s mouth….

‘DARS, this kid is gonna kill me with cuteness someday!’

[It is not possible for humans to die from children being cute.]

‘Bah, that’s bachelor talk right there. If you had your own kid, you wouldn’t be saying that!’

DARS did not dignify such stupidity with a response.

“You don’t think I can do it?” Querido’s face dropped in disappointment, thinking her lack of response meant disbelief.

“That—!” Felicia paused and quickly re-arranged her words, “Naturally anyone under my tutelage will be amazing. Plus, how could anyone of my noble blood not succeed in their plans....”

Querido immediately brightened at her words and nodded excitedly, “That’s right Mama. Even that governess said I am clever. I won’t disappoint you.”

She gave a chuckle at his words and decided they should keep walking. After a while they came to a clearing. The grass was green and short, perfect for running in. Unfortunately the clothes the host wore were too fancy for running in a field. Plus, it was unlikely the host was used to running. If Felicia pushed this body into an activity it wasn’t used to, she might hurt herself.

Feeling a little disappointed, she sighed and said to no one in particular, “When one is young, how nice it is… to run in a field like this with no concern for how people will think of you, to bravely climb a tree to it’s top and look down at the land, or to go down to the ground, looking under every stone and in every stream for some interesting animal or insect…”

Querido heard this list of activities and was puzzled, “Is that not improper?”

Felicia probed her host a little before saying slowly, “There is improper for adults and improper for children. What the governess taught you was etiquette for children on the cusp of adulthood... For that age, they should not be running or climbing or digging in the ground.”

“But for my age, it is fine?”

She nodded at his conclusion.

“Even a prince or princess does those things when they are children.” She observed and felt a slight tremor from her host. Rather than anger or denial there was… surprise. Somehow the thought that royalty’s children would behave like normal little children had never occured to Calle.

Felicia inwardly lectured her host, ‘What do you think royal children do? Sit around all day and drink tea? I’m sure they’re taught how to behave around adults, but you just know they run around like monkeys— ah, sorry you don’t know what those are—puppies will work. They run around like excited puppies. Just like every other kid out there. See, you even have memories of going to a Duke’s place and their kids running around outside and being loud. How could you not make the connection? If a Duke’s kid does it, naturally royal kids will do it too.’ She mentally sighed. ‘You know, that day Querido failed to socialize properly, it’s not that he lacked manners. It’s that he didn’t know how to play like all the other kids. Wasn’t that your fault? And don’t try to blame the Nanny, you were the one who had him isolated.’

Her host grumped and there was a vague sense of righteous indignation.

‘Yeah yeah,’ Felicia internally rolled her eyes. ‘The hair was the problem, uh huh. But let’s be real, once his hair was dyeable, the first thing you should have done is got him a playmate or something. He spent his entire life isolated with a woman who couldn’t talk and for some reason you thought you could throw him into a group of strangers and things would go well? I mean, come on… even you’re not that stupid. You just didn’t care about your son’s well being and found out too late that everyone else did care. When will you learn? YOU were the problem, not your kid and not the nanny.’

She felt a surge of anger and then… resignation. Though Felicia didn’t quite understand why, this particular point was something her host was willing to concede on.

‘Huh?’ A sense of wonder overtook Felicia, ‘Could it be that my host is finally using her brain and learning?’

“Mama,” Rido cut into her internal monologue, “Should I…. should I run around?”

Felicia blinked. “To be a rambunctious child is... healthy and… normal. Otherwise, how can the Heir Childe be around his peers without making a fool of himself and, by proxy, me?”

His eyes turned round as saucers, “Then… I will… I will run around!”

“As you like.” She waved her hand and he took a few steps forward. Then he hesitated and looked at her anxiously.

“Mama you won’t leave will you?”

“Fool, who is running around? You or me?”

He gave a blindingly bright grin at her words and then ran off.

After he left, Felicia turned to the Nanny. She had been silently watching and somewhere during the conversation between mother and son, her eyes had reddened as though she was holding back her own tears.

“From now on, take him out every day to play.” She told the Nanny. “But concerning trees, it is better he doesn’t climb. It would be annoying if he were to fall and break himself.”

The Nanny nodded exaggeratingly.

Felicia cleared her throat and attempted to thank her, “...I suppose it’s no surprise the Nanny I have hired is so excellent.”

Nanny Flor’s mouth dropped open, shocked at this sudden acknowledgement.

“There are only a few years left for Heir Childe to need a Nanny…”

Nanny Flor nodded, her expression wistful and a little sad.

“That being said, as long as you desire to work for me, there will be a place for you.”

The mute woman's eyes brightened and then she tilted her head, as if asking: but what am I to do if there are no children?

“Though your muteness may be considered a disadvantage elsewhere, it will be useful here…” She paused, eyebrows furrowed, “When Heir Childe is learning to read and write, you will attend his lessons and learn as well.”

Nanny Flor looked startled, pointing at herself.

“You can not talk, which is fine, but you must be able to communicate through more than just face and gesture. Only myself and Heir Childe will know that you can write, everyone else will continue thinking you ignorant. This way no one will view you as a threat… after all, your muteness is why the Viscount let me hire you. It is also why he rarely approaches you, only asking you simple questions, is that not so?”

Nanny Flor stiffened, face paling slightly at being found out.

“Are you surprised that I know even the Viscount talks to you, seeking out information? In fact the Viscount visited you recently, because of my odd behavior and how I have been treating the Heir Childe.”

The Nanny began to tremble slightly. The Marchioness should not have known about that.

Felicia frowned in disapproval at her obvious fright, “Stop that, otherwise Heir Childe will think I am bullying you.”

The Nanny clasped her hands and nodded, forcefully suppressing any obvious signs of fear.

“Now then, as to the Viscount seeking out information, tell him what he wants to know. I will make it a point not to speak of important matters around you—”

The Nanny stepped forward, grabbing the Marchioness’ arm and shaking her head vehemently. She pointed at Querido and then pat her chest, a sincere expression on her face. Felicia thought about the hand motion the Nanny had made.

“Is it the Heir Childe you have in your heart?”

The Nanny nodded.

“Hm… can I trust you to be loyal in the face of the Viscount?”

The Nanny nodded again and huffed, making an angry motion as if to say ‘Who likes that guy anyway?’

Felicia gave a low chuckle. “I know that the Heir Childe is only… this way… thanks to you. I will trust you.”

The Nanny looked relieved, not knowing that she’d been approved before this conversation took place. After she returned from the Duchy, Felicia had DARS scan the Nanny. He had come back saying that, as long as it was for Querido’s sake, the young woman would risk her life.

“As to the Viscount, answer him honestly unless you feel he is asking a question in an effort to harm the Heir Childe.”

The Nanny motioned “Of course” and then pointed at the Marchioness, head tilted.

“Are you asking what to do if the Viscount asks about myself?”

She nodded.

“Hm… it is better to give the truth, whenever possible. If his question seems malicious, then give an answer that any other servant would give… the Viscount won’t expect much from you. Make sure to keep his expectations low and he will never ask you more than simple questions. And those you can answer honestly.”

The Nanny slowly nodded again. She clapped her hands and smiled, a single dimple showing.

———

The visit to the Countess came quickly with Felicia’s days filled with mansion management and teaching her little genius the “art of play”. She gave him lots of hugs and kisses before leaving. He accepted this attention with shy gladness and even looked a little mournful when she left. He was no longer acting like the cautious boy of the past.

As she travelled, she thought about what to do next. Should she get him a tutor? But after the governess, she doubted he’d be emotionally ready for another teacher. Plus, she had some doubts about the capability of tutors in this era. Obviously her son needed a thorough understanding of the regional history of this place, something she couldn’t provide because her host had only a rudimentary understanding of the country’s history much less their kingdom’s interactions with anyone nearby.

Her math skills were higher than anyone in this era. This wasn’t because of her “modern education” so much as Darius’ obsession with math. Though her feelings for that first mission had faded as DARS promised, the memories were still there. She could remember what he’d taught her— often against her will—and so she’d gained more mathematical knowledge than she’d wanted for two lifetimes.

Rather than having Rido taught the primitive math of this era, it was better if she taught him. It appeared that Calle had been taught basic mathematics using a Roman numeral type system and had no knowledge of anything else. This didn’t mean there wasn’t anything else, it was just Calle didn’t know about it. Darius had said the widespread acceptance of the Hindu-Arabic numeral system had been the best thing to happen to humanity. Since he was a math nerd, Felicia could only accept this statement as the Gospel Truth in the math realm. Therefore, that’s what she would teach Rido, consequences be damned.

Next were the sciences. Calle hadn’t been taught anything resembling science and no one in her immediate family talked about it either. After questioning DARS, she discovered that what she knew as “science” didn’t exist yet in this world. They had natural philosophy, the study of nature, and mathematics but nothing had been formally codified and defined like in her modern world.

What’s more, the scholars who looked into these fields were monks and priests, scattered throughout the region. Tutors of noble children rarely taught the most accurate or the latest discoveries being made by these religious scholars, but instead what was considered the most widely accepted theories for the regions they were teaching in. It took a long time for new information to make its way into “common culture”.

Basically, if Felicia depended on a tutor to teach Rido this world’s version of science, it wouldn’t be accurate even by this era’s own standards. In that case, Felicia might as well teach him herself. She’d been through elementary and middle school twice now, she knew way more about basic science than she ever wanted to know…

Surprisingly, teaching modern science was not as risky as she thought it might be. While it was true that there was a lot of bad information out there, the scholars of this Ye Old era were open minded… as long as the theories didn’t question some basic tenant of the church. That made sense, considering all the archaic scientists of this timeline were priests and monks...

If a theory could be proved true, they would likely accept it. But even if the scholars accepted it, that by no means meant general society would do the same. In fact, it was much harder to prove basic science to the superstitious and fearful populace than to the religious scholars. Most people were illiterate and grew up believing folk medicine and stories handed down through their family. The lack of foundational education in this time period was the most serious roadblock to advancing science.

She needed to try though. Science tied directly into treatment of the sick. Germ theory, for instance, needed to be accepted before people could understand why sanitation was so important for treating wounds or preventing a plague. Knowing that even her basic understanding of illnesses and first aid could save so many lives, she couldn’t in good conscience keep it to herself.

It wouldn’t be too hard to teach Rido but how to spread that information…?

As she was puzzling over that problem, she was also considering the fact that Rido needed friends, playmates. This was not only good for his emotional well being, it was critical for his life as an adult. Being able to make friends now allowed him to network more easily as an adult. The kind of connections young nobles made once they became adults could make or break them, their families, and determine the wellbeing of their entire fief.

Nobles were careful who they allowed their children to befriend thanks to that. It wasn’t just about being friends with those of equal status, but of similar political and social worldviews. For instance, Calle would never have let her son socialize with the Marron family despite their status being equal. She and they were in different circles and if Calle let her son be a friend with a Marron child, it was both an implicit support of the Marron’s values and an indication of favoring a possible future union to their family.

The “future union” part had to do with Marron's youngest daughter. Parental matchmaking in noble circles started very early. They found the families they wanted to have ties with, or were willing to create a tie with, and then they had their boys and girls mingle frequently. No matter who their kids picked as a marriage partner, they would all get both sets of parents approval, taking a lot of the guesswork out of the process.

In a way, this system was very clever. Parents controlled the entire social life of their child while the child in question grew up thinking they had freedom to pick and choose who they associated with or married. Calle herself had thought she had lots of choices too, right up until her father told her they were destitute. Only then did she realize that everything she had came through her parents' connections and once those fell apart, she had nothing.

As Felicia was going through these common sense aspects of nobility that she had not hitherto thought deeply on, she noticed something in Calle’s memories. Felicia had been assuming both parents were involved with setting up playdates and figuring out which families they wanted a connection with but this wasn’t so. Over and over again the dominating figure in Calle’s memories in these aspects of her life were her mother and grandmother.

Felicia had assumed because the men ran the fiefs, inherited the title, and did the bulk of politicking and warring, they had the most influence and this society was a straightforward patriarchy. But upon closer examination, was it really that straightforward?

The clear delineation over who had power outside and inside the home meant that children were “women’s business”. This also meant that the one controlling their child’s life was the mother. Who a child made friends with, married, who they had business and political connections with as an adult… that was all decided by the mother.

This level of influence couldn’t be under-estimated. The nobleman may have the title and the fief, but it was his mother who decided his connections and who he married. And it’s his wife who will determine the success or failure of the next generation. Women, despite being shackled from Felicia’s view, wielded an enormous amount of power in this country.

So this was what DARS meant by Calle originally being a trial by neglect. Being neglected would be a severe handicap for Querido under normal circumstances but it would have been fatal for a nobleman. Without a mother, grandmother, or at the very least an aunt, to form those early connections, Querido would have no power in society. He might as well not exist among the aristocracy.

Having an ignorant and useless Marquess was terrible for the fief but great for Calle and the Viscount. He would be wholly dependent on them for everything. It made him a perfect puppet.

But how could someone as intelligent as Querido tolerate being a puppet? Even if he was ignorant about a lot, his Nanny was kind and she gave him a firm moral base. He would clearly see how awful these two people were and want to find a way to bring justice for his people and freedom for himself.

Where could an isolated, ignorant young nobleman find support?

If connections were the currency of noble society, to break free of his mother and the Viscount, he needed backers. No wonder in the corrupted timeline he ended up in the Noble Faction. Even without the direct help of his mother, both paternal and maternal families had positive connections with them.

Of course, Felicia couldn't let him go that route this time. Hopefully the Marrons would be his backing.

They shouldn’t turn him away because he was a future high ranking noble in the making, but it’s also true they wouldn’t be able to help her fix the fief. Even if they were nice people, they wouldn’t drain their own resources for "potential". If she wanted their full support, and thus the support of the Loyalist Faction, she’d need some kind of collateral. And it’d need to be big.

Felicia pondered this for a long time while on the road. She could have asked DARS directly, but this kind of thing was a good exercise for her. She needed to understand the people of this world and figuring out questions like this was a good way to do so. Always depending on DARS, especially now that he wouldn’t divulge things without her directly asking, wasn’t a good idea.

‘Hey DARS…’

[Yes?]

‘Calle is the only child of the Mora family right?’

[Correct.]

‘So when Calle married the Marquess, doesn’t that mean the Mora fief changed ownership?’

[Partially. The Mora fief was given over to the Marquess for governance. Currently the Mora fief is ruled by the Mora family in name only. This is why the Viscount is often away, he must deal with both fiefs at the same time.]

‘As I thought… when the Count and Countess die, will the Mora fief be absorbed into the Fresa fief?’

[Only if the Fresa family successfully petitions the King to turn both fiefs into a single, unified Duchy. Otherwise, the Mora fief will be given to the next-of-kin within the Mora family to rule.]

‘By any chance, could Rido petition the King on behalf of both the Fresa and Mora families?’

[Once he turned of age, he would be the legal heir apparent for both fiefs and thus would be in the right to petition the King. However, if the Count or the host were to object, it would be unlikely to succeed.]

‘And if the Count and Calle were either not able to object or convinced to support it?’

[Then Querido could easily convince the King to turn the two fiefs into a duchy.]

Felicia eyebrows raise and the corner of her lips curled up, ‘By any chance, does Count Marron need the support of a Duke?’

DARS face turned into a ) and he replied, [Yes he does.]

She laughed quietly to herself, pleased her theory was sound.

If the Loyalists need a Duke, why not give them one?