Roland was truly happy that for most things he involved himself in the results mattered more than the process. And for him a good result equaled a life saved, sometimes several. This meant that truthfully everything else was actually unimportant. Of no consequence. And most definitely not something they should ever be criticized for.

On a completely unrelated note, their painting session had finished, and the final result lay bare for the whole world to see.

In order to get here quite a lot of effort had been expended. The start seemed almost jovial, with everyone grabbing a brush and trying to paint.

The novel task, for when had these orphans and their noble friend ever painted something of this scale, captured their interest at first.

Claire’s brush nimbly flew across the wood, and although quite a lot of paint flew to the sides or the ground none of it touched the swift girl or her clothes. Truly skills befitting a noble lady. Spillage of any kind being one of their biggest enemies after all.

Roland, unfamiliar with painting but uncannily proficient at mindlessly repeating a task, quickly got the hang of it and steadily progressed on his part of the railing.

The other two showed surprising amounts of enthusiasm. Though one of them kept his a lot longer. Paint splashed around wildly, giving Thomas clothes a new avant-garde look. He channeled his inner artist to a frightening degree. Even when he accidentally put his hand against the wet paint, he simply laughed it off jovially.

Arthur started out carefully at first, making slow but satisfying progress. Seeing him, eyes narrowed in concentration as his brush slowly moved up and down, one could imagine the large boy painting for hours on end.

However after comparing his work to the others’, he got stumped at the sight of Claire and Roland having blazed ahead. Picking up the pace, Arthur ended up splashing some paint on himself, which unlike the carefree Thomas bothered him greatly.

The biggest problem for the group presented itself when they were done with the inner side, which did not take long, as everyone worked at once. The outer side of the new railing turned out to not be as easily accessible as the old one, seeing that they had basically put up a solid wooden wall instead of the previous balustrades.

After some misguided attempts of letting blobs of paint run down from the top, Claire decided cheating would be the best course of action. A short whisper exchanged with her floating companion, pleading look on her face, led to these four master artists sitting on the bridge leisurely, munching on apples, while a now much whiter sword painted the outside for them. It worked surprisingly well considering that a wooden stick lacked some crucial appendages which should be necessary for painting.

The boys did not mind sitting in silence, being used to breaks like these. Claire on the other hand seemed to feel a little awkward, ultimately deciding to tell some interesting stories to pass the time. Luckily, she was fairly close to a widely renowned figure, which allowed her to amass quite a lot of juicy gossip.

“Back when Father was appointed as city lord almost four years ago all the nobles here wanted to host a big reception for him. But he declined and asked to keep things running normally, and especially not send us any gifts or presents,” Claire told them a fairly old story in hopes none of them had heard it before.

And judging by Roland and Arthur’s surprised expression that was indeed the case. Does not sound like the City Lord at all. He’s the kind of person who likes big spectacles, even if he doesn’t care for the other nobles.

Shedding some light on the disconnect with a fond smile, Claire elaborated further, “he told me his reason for all that was to test Soren’s nobles. I still remember him getting agitated talking about them. ‘Nobles everywhere somehow managed to delude even themselves because of how two-faced they have become.’”

Trying to mimic her father’s deep baritone voice, and failing spectacularly, Claire stood up, waving her hands around accusingly in order to more accurately portray him.

“These hypocrites talk about sacrifice and the common good, extolling their virtues while being nothing more than parasitic worms themselves,” Claire conveyed her father's words of ridicule to her receptive audience. “No matter how many selfish or downright evil deeds they commit, simply telling themselves they are righteous and kind somehow actually makes them believe it. It is almost frightening how far removed from reality they can become.”

“No need for presents, but in case you did bring some we have designated twelve rooms in the west wing as gift storage locations. Please tell the servants an estimate of its value so they can sort it accordingly.”

“Of course, I love our hardworking citizens, which is why I fully encourage them to work even harder. Only together will we be able to build a bright future for all of us.”

“Criminals must be punished harshly! If you don’t make example of them, it will encourage more people to act in the same. Luckily, I could finally lift my poor nephew’s house arrest now that the hoodlum who attacked him awoke from his comma and confessed to have instigating the whole incident. It is uplifting to see justice prevail in the face of evil.”

Now this sounds more like him alright. Roland though amused, appreciative of how much effort Claire put into her portrayal. Arthur too listened with interest, grin on his face as he pictured the heavyweight city lord raving angrily about these blasted nobles.

Thomas on the other hand had an absent look, slowly eating one of the few leftover apples he managed to swipe away. Whatever miracles went on inside that head of his remained unknown to the world.

Claire showed a cheeky grin and continued, “So what Father wanted to do was weed out those kinds of nobles. Because even if he had been forced to become a city lord, he certainly would not tolerate them under him.”

The knowledge that the City Lord had been unwilling to assume his position would shock many outsiders. After all, who would be dissatisfied with such a powerful station, seeing as whoever became Soren’s city lord basically ruled over the entire Province of Seasons. Anyone local however would definitely know about it, due to the City Lord’s quite vocal distaste for the position in the past and present.

“So, what happened?” Arthur asked, so eager to hear the rest he dropped part of his stony façade. Gossip remained abundant everywhere, but hearing a story from the horse’s mouth was much more interesting.

Happy to have everyone on hook Claire satisfied his curiosity, “As expected, the vast majority of nobles and basically all merchants that knew about his appointment send a literal mountain of gifts anyway. “

Thomas head jerked upwards, showing he had been listening intently all along.

“Why would they send gifts after he told them not to?” He wondered with a confused expression. “That’s like beyond stupid.”

The other three chuckled, lamenting that if only every noble family would adopt a Thomas of their own. World peace could realistically be achieved in a single generation.

“Yes, they certainly were not the brightest of fellows,” Claire happily agreed. “Now Father knew which ones to avoid and held a big party of his own, only inviting the ones who did not send any presents previously. The other nobles went around with heavy faces but could not protest one bit. After all, Father specifically told them not to gift him anything, and they could not even manage something so simple. Truly no better than toddlers.”

Thomas laughed at their plight while the other two were bemused by the City Lord’s blatant disrespect. This is why he is so beloved despite only being here for a relatively short time.

“What did you do with all the presents?” Roland wondered, fully expecting the City Lord to have trashed them for sport.

Claire hesitated, unsure if she should answer, which made Roland raise his brows in surprise. That’s an unexpected pause. What could possibly be done with some presents to make her hesitate telling us?

“Father threw them all back to where they came from,” Claire finally replied, averting her eyes from Roland.

The latter quickly noticed the strange choice of words, inquiring promptly to sate his curiosity, “Threw?”

Face getting redder every second, and most certainly full of regret for choosing that particular story, Claire nonetheless answered truthfully,

“He didn’t want to waste the servants time by having them dump the gifts somewhere. Father instead conjured an air cannon in our yard and added some impact dampening runes to every package, before literally throwing them towards the sender’s properties.”

Hands hiding her face, the embarrassing memories came back in full force. “I was still young back than so I stood next to him and excitedly threw the smaller ones into the spell, laughing gleefully at the soaring packages.”

Roland and Arthur were shocked at the admission, whereas Thomas’ eyes sparkled with dangerous luminosity as he imagined what he could do if he had access to that kind of spell.

“Damn. The City Lord literally bombarded the city in his first week here. Not bad,” Arthur exclaimed, deep respect in his voice.

Claire, somehow stuck in a loop of shame, continued talking despite nobody having asked for more information, “Most of the gifts were food or drinks so they just made some small splashes. Nothing dangerous. Except one, a big stone lion.”

Horror visible in between the cracks of her fingers she whispered, “It hit an abandoned Mage Tower whose old defensive array destroyed the dampening runes. But it wasn’t strong enough to stop the lion itself.”

The boys' eyes widened in shock at the disastrous turn the story had taken.

“Half the tower collapsed. You could hear the noise throughout the entire city,” Claire finished her harrowing tale, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

I think I remember hearing about a collapsed tower way back, though not one word about the City Lord being involved. Certainly some dark history we have heard about today.

“I hope nobody got hurt,” Roland remarked, trying to morally balance Thomas starry eyes and Arthur wide grin. Though deep inside he too had to admit that the City Lord was awesome.

Claire pulled herself together, reassuring Roland, “Of course not, Father would never stand for innocents getting hurt. He aimed at areas without any people. Those mansions are half empty all the time anyways.”

Arthur stood up and stretched his arms, looking revitalized. Stories about nobles suffering certainly appealed to him.

“Amazing. I wish I could have seen those nobles faces when the lion came smashing down,” He marveled with a grin. “And of course they have to keep it hush, not like they can blame our dear city lord.”

His smile was short lived however, as a certain wooden sword suddenly swished through the air to bonk him on the head. Grimacing in pain, Arthur put on a more serious face, annoyed at himself for getting too excited.

“Seems like the painting is done,” Roland said, happy to have behaved seriously during the juicy story.

“Thanks for the help,” he added in the direction of the sword. The others expressed their thanks as well, but in a display of perfectly understandable bias it only reacted to its owners’, wiggling weirdly next to Claire.

The latter seemed more than happy about the change of conversation topic, stepping next to Roland to admire their finished work. The rest joined them. For some inexplicable reason all of them were unsure how to best express their current feelings.

Noon barely having passed, they had spent the greater part of their morning completing this little project. Though Claire herself only arrived recently. And despite there being a certain satisfaction from finishing their work, the feeling of pride was missing for all but one of them.

Thomas, looking not unlike a god appreciating his magnificent creation, would certainly remember today fondly. Arthur and Roland on the other hand had already come to expect an end result of such quality, which is why they took it in stride. The problem is our little miss here.

Claire gazed upon the garish replacement they had created with a hard to interpret expression. She saw how the simple, but nonetheless beautifully crafted railing cut off into a wooden block. One that stood out even more due to being freshly painted in bright white, starkly contrasting the original railing’s faded colors.

There were undoubtedly many thoughts in her head, about possibly repainting the rest, or getting some craftsmen to completely remake the railing instead. Maybe deep inside there might even have been the urge to ask her father to tear down the whole bridge and built a new one.

But for all their differences there was one thing Claire shared with Roland’s group. A certain stubbornness. Some would call it being headstrong or childish. Others would say it showed one possessed a strong will and resolve.

Ultimately this headstrong girl, for reasons unknown, decided to join Roland and his companions in their strange adventures. Even if things were not quite up to her standard, and she figuratively felt like ripping her hair out, Claire had already made her decision and would stick to it. So instead of making new problems, the prideful girl simply accepted it.

Inner peace found, she turned to the boys and with a lopsided smile declared, “Looks good enough to me. Where to next, Leader?”

Arthur almost chocked on his own spit while Roland got away with trembling shoulders. He had been somewhat prepared for a colorful reaction, as Claire started behaving less restrained ever since their previous talk. Due to all that pomp and glamour it’s easy to forget, she is the youngest of us all.

Regarding the next point on their agenda, Roland had originally planned for them to keep watch in rotating shifts until midnight. Seeing that they were joined by Claire however, he decided against it.

Having the City Lord’s daughter stay in the slums over an extended period of time was just asking for trouble to arise. Obviously there could never be any danger to Claire inside of Soren, but it would certainly draw a crowd of nobles over. And although the people living here needed a lot of things, that was certainly not one of them.

Claire’s situation is developing a lot more positively than I expected. Though it could be Arthur is too chicken to complain right to her face. I might as well let the two of them entertain Thomas today and get some studying done myself.

“Our work is basically done for now. Though I’d still like to keep an eye on the bridge. In case something comes up later,” Roland told his companions, having decided on their fate.

If the recommendation had worked out, I would be trying to train as much as possible. But now that it failed spectacularly, I almost feel relieved. Relaxing for a day or two is fine before I start thinking about what to do in the coming year. The Inner Breath Sutra is not enough, I need something else to train. Let’s hope the officers don’t disappoint again and actually teach us something useful.

“Keep watch on your own for a bit,” he said to Arthur, hiding evil intention behind his nonchalant smile. “I’ll take Thomas and grab some of books from home so I can study around here today. Once I’m back you guys can go patrol somewhere else if you feel like it. Or go do your own thing like Stephan. Nothing else planned for now.”

“Thank you for your great help, Claire,” Roland showed his appreciation for today’s artistic opportunities to Claire. “You are welcome to join these two. I’m sure they would appreciate the help.”

The polite bow of Roland’s was mimicked more elegantly by Claire when she replied, “Thank you for the opportunity to help, Leader. As well as the undeserved praise. I will strive to do better and look forward to our future cooperation.”

“And of course I would love to join my new companions on their patrol,” she added, smiling cheekily again. “I will help to the best of my meager abilities to keep Soren’s streets safe and clean.”

That quick switch is as impressive as it is scary. She’d make a great actress. Or con artist.

“Maybe we could even take a quick detour for something tasty later,” Claire finished her little performance with some obvious bait.

Which worked just as well as one would expect, Thomas already drooling as he calculated the best possible route towards sweetness now that his brain’s potential became fully unlocked at the mere mention of snacks.

“Wonderful,” Roland remarked, trying not to smile. “Make sure to entertain Miss Claire until we are back, Arthur.”

He grabbed the daydreaming Thomas and left quickly after saying his goodbyes, looking forward to a relaxed afternoon. The accusing look his friend gave him was not noticed. Arthur was quite easy to miss after all.