And so, the crown prince Hodr arrived at the Renard marquisate. He was a short, slender, fair-skinned boy of the same age as Liam, with brown eyes as narrow as a snake’s and blond hair much darker than Bal’s. He came across as strong-willed and fussy.
Apparently the very first king of the royal family who’d made a contract with the Lord of Light had dazzlingly golden hair and eyes, but his modern descendants lacked that same luster.
House Renard received the prince in our most lavish guest room, but the boy complained incessantly and bothered the servants. He couldn’t handle riding a horse through the steep mountain path, so he’d been carried in a litter, yet he still complained of a backache and selfishly reclined on the bed.
Liam had been disappointed to discover that half of the relief supplies His Highness had brought were gold coins. Money simply wasn’t helpful in our current situation, no matter how much of it we had. We set it aside for the time being, to use after the majority of the recovery process was complete. We then carried the rest of the supplies to Lord Reineke’s temple, where the temporary residents started unpacking the goods. But as soon as the people saw what was inside, they cried out in protest.
“What the— This is rotten!”
“So is this! The food’s spoiled!”
“Are they dumping their garbage onto us?!”
Their anger was palpable. I let out a discouraged sigh as I unpacked the contents.
“Most of this is useless...”
Thankfully, there were some useful items, such as wheat and salt, but most of the fruit and vegetables were rotten.
“Fruit is abundant in our domain, but there’s a reason we can’t ship it to the capital. Doesn’t he know?” Liam muttered.
“What are you talking about?” Bal asked.
“Coaches can’t traverse through the path between our land and the capital city, so raw food has to be carried by horses or cows. Their body warmth and all the shaking as they move causes the food to spoil,” Liam explained.
“I had no idea... That makes sense.” Bal looked impressed to have learned something new.
“Is that why we have to process fresh sentiment flowers in our territory instead of shipping them out?” I asked.
My brother nodded. “On the upside, we get to monopolize the manufacture of the medicine.”
While we conversed, the citizens around us continued complaining.
“I heard His Highness Prince Hodr chose the supplies himself. So what is the meaning of this?”
“Did he bring this here on purpose to make things even harder for us?!”
Liam frowned at the rousing crowd.
“Mind your words,” he warned quietly.
The people snapped to their senses and clapped their hands over their mouths. They could be suspected of treason for saying such things.
“His Highness has no reason to purposely make things harder for us. Look, the fruit he has chosen is not available in our domain in this season. That is proof of his goodwill. I believe he simply wasn’t aware of our circumstances. Let’s be grateful for his effort, at least.”
Upon hearing his cool admonishment, the folk reluctantly went back to unpacking the supplies. They divided up all the items, and distributed those that could be used.
Among the prince’s gifts was his favorite food: bananas. The fruit was such a rarity in the Renard domain that most of the commoners had never seen one before. Unfortunately, peeling the skin revealed that the fruit was bruised and blackened.
“Ew... What is this?” Bal mumbled.
“I know it doesn’t look great, but it’s still edible if we cook it,” I told him.
In my past life, I had eaten banana cake. The one served in the royal palace would’ve been made from fresh fruit, but even overripe bananas could still be used if the damaged parts were cut off.
“Seriously?” Bal asked.
“I’ll ask the monastery to make a banana cake! It should have more bulk than just using wheat,” I said, and the children cheered.
“Yay! Cake!”
“Let’s help pick the fruit!”
“I can help with peeling too!”
The atmosphere within the temple began to brighten along with their joyful voices. Little by little, the adults were coming around too.
“Complaining won’t solve anything. We’d better follow Lady Lune’s example.”
“You’re right. We’ve gotta get creative with what we’ve got.”
“Better to have something than nothing at all.”
“It wasn’t on purpose, so there’s no point in getting angry about it.”
“Thank you, Lune,” Liam said, giving me a smile that made my tail wag.
Shortly after, Liam and the adults carried anything we couldn’t immediately use to House Renard’s ice house, which was filled with snow and ice to keep items cooler than if they were in a typical storeroom. Meanwhile, I journeyed to the monastery together with the children.
A week had passed since the prince’s arrival. Although His Highness claimed he was here to help with the disaster, he’d been holed up in House Renard’s guest room the entire time. Apparently his back still hurt and he was feeling cold. But thanks to that, Bal and I had managed to avoid meeting him so far. I secretly hoped he’d never leave that room at all.
The people had been frustrated with the prince’s attendants during this past week. On top of the official royal escort, Prince Hodr had also brought hired mercenaries and transporters to help with crossing the mountain path. Those people had turned out to be troublemakers, often causing mayhem in the town. Nobody could tell them to hurry up and leave, but everyone was thinking it.
At the moment, we were doing the standard food distribution in front of the monastery, with bean curry and banana cake as part of the day’s menu. But the prince and his chamberlain appeared out of nowhere, sticking out like sore thumbs in their glamorous attire.
Behind him, a man with a hat tipped low over his eyes lurked in the shadows. He just looked like one of the townsfolk at first glance, but his presence was so subtle that I wouldn’t have noticed him without my fox ears.
Is he a secret guard?
I quietly informed Bal of the man’s presence. The boy quickly put on his hood and hid behind the crowd.
“What’s going on here? Is this line for the food distribution? Is that even safe? Will any of it be edible?” His Highness Hodr asked none too politely.
The chamberlain leaned in to whisper to him. Whatever he said clearly upset the prince, making him sigh and continue his incessant grumbling.
“So it’s not even meat? Then it’s gonna be nasty for sure. What, is it because of the disaster? If they don’t have beef, why not just use pork? I guess these people are too dumb to realize. Not to mention, criminals made this food! How filthy! This is exactly why I didn’t want to come here. If only father hadn’t forced me...”
We don’t have enough meat because the monsters ate everything. And we can’t raise many cows or pigs in our domain. We have limited flatland, and everyone has their hands full with growing grains. We can barely afford to feed our sheep and birds, let alone pigs! Horses and cattle are often used for transport, so we can’t eat them either. It’s all so obvious if he just thought it through a little.
Yet I couldn’t openly refute him. The commoners glared at Hodr, who shivered at the suddenly cool air. Realizing the tense atmosphere, he cleared his throat and pompously puffed out his chest.
“Well, I guess I can try one bite.”
Liam didn’t react in any way. At times like these, the Renards’ ability to remain expressionless was very useful. No matter how irritated he might’ve been, it didn’t show on his face.
The abbot poured some curry from the communal pot into a wooden bowl and handed it to the chamberlain. The man tentatively pressed the bowl to his lips.
“Oh! Delicious!” he cried out in surprise, then quickly covered his mouth. “I mean to say, there’s no poison,” he added.
“Humph...” Hodr took the bowl, somewhat reassured by the chamberlain’s initial slipup. He sniffed the contents and scrunched up his face. “That’s the weirdest smell ever.”
The prince reluctantly brought the bowl closer to his mouth, irritating the common folk with his mannerisms. But as soon as he took one sip, his eyes lit up. In no time at all, he gulped down the entire bowl before holding it out toward the abbot without a word.
The abbot frowned at this juvenile behavior, but with no ability to protest, he poured a second helping of curry into the bowl. His Highness devoured it just as quickly. The chamberlain watched in bewilderment but made no move to stop the boy.