It's been over a day, almost two now, since Grandpa Gregorio told me that he'd think about talking with the king.
I thought that he wouldn't, but to my surprise, he agreed to meet tomorrow at noon.
Why did it take so long for him to make up his mind? I didn't know.
But if he decided to meet in the end, it was all good.
Io was constantly with me, from morning to night.
She had completely lost interest in my brother and sister. Or she was just weirdly clingy to me.
For a seven-year-old, she was surprisingly sharp but arrogant.
And I humored her because she was the princess, after all.
If she wanted to play, we played. If she wanted to talk, we talked. If she wanted to do nothing, then we did nothing, and if she couldn't think of anything, it was my time to suggest something.
She was going to be queen, so why not plant friendly seeds early?
I mean, I'd be a childhood friend who even healed her when she injured herself.
What monarch wouldn't look favorably on a friend like that in the future?
Plus, she was just a kid.
When we played I tried to let her win most games, but she would have none of that.
She hated it. She noticed immediately, and her nose wrinkled in a sharp, judgmental way.
When we played a game called Ajasch that was similar to chess but had two more rows in each direction and two more pieces.
The monster and the mage. The monster could move diagonally in fours and vertically in twos. The mage could move horizontally in fours and diagonally in twos.
And the purpose and position of king and queen were reversed.
"Don't do that," Io said.
"Do what?" I asked innocently.
"Lose on purpose."
"I'm not losing on purpose," I said, and there was some honesty in that statement. I wasn't very good at chess in my old world, and now with more pieces and rules, I can barely make head or tails out of it.
My only advantage was that I had better critical thinking skills than a literal seven-year-old.
She had to explain it to me first, but I quickly picked up on the concept.
Like in my old world, it was an ancient game that has been played in different variations for a long time.
I'm not sure how Io explain the version of the game was the one most commonly played in Asolar, but I sorted it under the Asolarian version of Ajasch.
Maybe I could play with Shadowboon later? Maybe he already played it because he lived with high nobles.
"You're just very good," I added.
She folded her arms and stared at me. "…You're lying."
"Alright. Fine. I'll play seriously."
"Good," she said, satisfied. "I don't like games where people pretend to be bad at things," she added flatly.
That, more than anything else, told me she hated being handled with care. She just wanted honesty.
But that didn't work out in her favor because by sheer luck, I managed to beat her in four moves.
She turned and pouted.
I didn't say anything.
She noticed my silence and glanced up at me, then immediately looked away, her chin lifting just a little. Pride. Or defense.
"Maybe next time," I said, trying to lift the mood, "you can try harder."
We spent the rest of the afternoon like that - games, idle talk, and wandering around while she peppered me with questions and stories that seemed to go nowhere.
She wasn't a bad girl, maybe just a bit arrogant because of her birthright and caged in with tutors and so on. And what was clearly obvious was that Io had no friends.
I didn't know if it was because there weren't any around her ages in Astar that had high enough titles to hang out, if Deimos and Rhea just didn't let her, or if other children just didn't like her.
In any case, she was a bit weird and didn't behave like any other child I knew.
Not that I knew many normal children. None of the children of this world were anything like the ones in my old world.
I'd mostly call them stupid and snot-nosed brats with sticky fingers that stained the pages of books and screens.
The memory of how often I had to tell children not to touch stuff when I worked in the library almost made my blood boil.
It was a strong emotion, but I tried not to show any. That was when I lost my first match.
Io almost gave a smile, an arrogant one, but didn't say anything. It was clear on her face that just a single win almost made up for how often she lost.
When the sun began to lower and servants rushed about preparing evening meals and as the children went to bed early, the household finally went quiet, and as the moon climbed high enough to cast pale light through the windows, I rose without a sound and slipped away.
I wanted to sleep some more, but I needed to check on the girls.
It was never a good call to just let them be, being the way they are.
I made it a habit of leaving nothing on the burner for too long.
The little settlement in the woods looked the same from the outside.
There was something in the air, more than normal.
A mix of many things, something sharp and herbal, layered with sweetness and a faint metallic tang that prickled the back of my nose.
From inside, I heard the soft clink of glass… and something shattering.
I slowed, suddenly aware that whatever the girls had been doing, they had been doing it enthusiastically.
I stepped up to the main house and its door and turned the handle.
Like a wave, grass, flowers, and all kinds of plants washed over me.
When I managed to get a look into the house, it was full.
Not messy or cluttered but full. Fully full.
Every flat surface overflowed with jars, sacks, bundles, crates, barrels, baskets, and hanging strings of things I couldn't identify. Shelves strained under weight they were never meant to bear. I couldn't see the floor, so full of things was the house.
I stared.
"Juliet!" Elizabeth's voice rang out from somewhere inside. "Watch out when you come here. I think I spilled something, and it looks like it burns the ground."
I could see parts of Elizabeth crouching near the hearth, grinding something in a mortar with alarming enthusiasm. Juliet was in the corner, carefully bottling liquids that glowed softly in at least three different colors.
I made an "mh" noise.
They all turned toward me at once.
"Father," Catherine said, popping out of a stack of what seemed to be hay. "You're back."
"What is this?" I asked slowly.
Catherine tilted her head. "You said to gather alchemical ingredients."
"Yes," I said, reminding myself.
"Is this not enough?" She asked.
I put my hand on my chin and looked around, nodding. "It seems like a reasonable amount."
Elizabeth nodded, appearing from a hallway. "We might still be missing a few things, though."
I walked carefully around the room, peering at labeled jars, and made mental notes without letting it show on my face.
There were plants, yes, but there was also powder and liquid. All in all, it may have been stored well for amateurs, but if anything was volatile, explosive, or, as already seen, acidic, then things could get dicey.
It was careless but enthusiastic.
It was a wonder they got so much without burning anything down or hurting themselves.
I wasn't surprised that Elizabeth spilled or broke something. Sooner or later something would happen, and she'd be the usual suspect.
Something I hoped for was that they wouldn't try to do anything with them.
Even if they survived concocting anything dangerous, or heavens forbid, they drank something, I didn't want it to happen. Simple as that. And I didn't want anything to happen to the house.
It took years to get it into the state it was right now.
It was cozy and sturdy, and they made memories here. I didn't want to jeopardize any of that because I wasn't careful.
I needed to do something, but as they looked at me with those big eyes, I had to reassure them first. I mean, they did a pretty good job at collecting things, like this was an RPG or something, collecting anything that seemed like it could be collected.
What could I really say to them?
'Good job?'
I decided to ask them first, "Have you been at this since I told you?"
"Yes!" Elizabeth said enthusiastically.
"Have you not slept?"
"We took turns."
Juliet clasped her hands. "So?" she said, hopeful. "Is this enough?"
I paused.
Then I sighed.
"Yes," I said. "It'll have to do."
Their faces lit up immediately - satisfied, triumphant.
I, meanwhile, wondered what exactly I'd do with all of this.