"Are you sure about this, Your Highness?" Legion asked, disbelief in his voice as he massaged Ceres' foot.
He was seated on the floor while she lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, looking completely unbothered.
She had just informed him that she intended to accompany him to the Adventurer's Guild for the Monster Hunt Expedition registration.
It had been nearly two months since she arrived in Aquilonis, yet she hadn't stepped foot outside the Empress Palace. Not a single person had come to visit either. As far as the world was concerned, she did not exist.
"Yes. I want to go outside," she repeated, raising an eyebrow at his hesitation.
"But it's dangerous outside the palace," Legion insisted, his voice carrying a note of concern.
Ceres narrowed her eyes.
"So you're going to make me repeat myself?" Her voice was smooth, but there was a sharpness to it, a warning.
Legion winced, immediately lowering his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. I'm just worried about you," he admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Ceres leaned forward, lifting his chin so that his brown eyes met hers.
"So what if it's dangerous outside?" she challenged. "Do you think I'm weak?"
"No, Your Highness…"
"Of course not," she cut him off before he could finish. She held his gaze for a moment before her lips curled into a smirk.
"Besides," she continued, relaxing back against the sofa. "It's just listing, right? You're not leaving immediately?"
Legion nodded.
"After the listing, we have one week to say goodbye to our families," he informed her.
"Then what exactly are you worried about?"
He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she silenced him with a kiss.
Legion froze for a second, caught off guard, then melted into it.
His hands instinctively grasped her thighs, almost kneeling before her like a worshiper before his goddess.
And just as he was completely lost in her, she bit his lower lip, hard.
Legion hissed at the sting, but before he could react, she pulled back and rose from the sofa.
"Prepare something for me to wear," she ordered. "Make sure I don't freeze."
Legion licked his bleeding lip, watching her saunter away, amused and utterly captivated.
Then he chuckled.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
At the Hour of the Twins at Dawnrise, Legion teleported himself, Ceres, and Delphine to a secluded spot, behind their old home in one of the city districts.
As soon as they materialized, Ceres swayed violently, immediately grabbing Delphine for support.
Her head spun, her stomach churned.
"Why do I feel dizzy when you don't?" she groaned. It was worse than riding a rollercoaster.
Delphine rubbed her back soothingly.
"We don't know, Your Highness," she answered sympathetically.
Ceres grimaced.
'Ori, why is that?'
'It's because of mana, Your Highness. Their mana reserves automatically protect them from the side effects of teleportation. Your body cannot do that.'
Ceres groaned aloud.
So in short, she had teleportation motion sickness.
Great.
Legion had dressed her like a commoner, but her clothes were far from ordinary.
Delphine had repurposed the luxurious fabrics from her old ball gowns, turning them into something practical yet elegant. The style allowed for movement, yet was warm enough to protect against the cold.
Commoners didn't have that luxury.
Most couldn't afford warm clothing, prioritizing food over comfort.
And as they walked through the city, Ceres saw firsthand just how bad things were.
The houses were crumbling, patched with whatever materials people could find just to block out the cold.
There were no children laughing or playing in the streets.
Most people were huddled inside their homes, and those who ventured outside were gaunt and malnourished.
Shops were scarce, and those that existed were barely stocked.
The streets felt abandoned.
Yet when they reached the Adventurer's Guild, Ceres saw the only place that was packed with people.
A long line stretched outside the building, filled with men, women, even children.
Some looked as young as ten.
Others were elderly, their bodies frail, yet still standing in line.
Ceres' stomach twisted.
"Why are so many people signing up?" she asked, unable to hide her disbelief.
Legion's expression darkened.
"Because this is the only way for them to earn one sack of barley before the harsh winter arrives," he explained.
Ceres stared at him.
"This isn't the harsh winter yet?" she asked, horrified.
Delphine shook her head.
"No, Your Highness," she answered, her voice heavy. "When the harsh winter comes, even walking through the streets will be difficult."
Ceres swallowed, a deep unease settling in her chest.
"And they're doing this… just for one sack of barley?"
Legion nodded.
Her hands curled into fists.
"How long does the harsh winter last?"
"Three to four months."
"And all they get is one sack of barley?"
Legion hesitated.
Then, with a bitter smile, he told her the truth.
"It's not guaranteed, Your Highness."
Ceres felt her stomach drop.
"They only receive it if they survive."
A chill that had nothing to do with the weather crawled down her spine.
"If they die, then they don't need the barley anymore."
Ceres turned sharply to face him, her golden eyes burning.
"But… what about their families?" she demanded. "What happens to them?"
Legion's jaw tightened.
He didn't answer.
But his silence told her everything.
Ceres clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
She remembered what Legion had told her before.
That their parents had died in one of these expeditions.
And now she knew, their family had been left with nothing.
This wasn't just about barley.
This was a death sentence.
A gamble, where the poor were forced to risk their lives for a chance to survive the winter.
And the royal family, her husband's children, had let things reach this point.
Wasn't it their duty to protect their people?
Did they not understand that a kingdom's greatest asset was its people?
No wonder this kingdom had fallen.
"I understand the men," Ceres muttered, her sharp eyes scanning the long line of recruits. "They have a higher chance of surviving the expedition. But the women?"
Her gaze hardened as she spotted frail girls and middle-aged women in the line. Some of them looked too weak to even hold a weapon.
"Why are they here? They won't survive."
Legion's expression darkened.
"Some women are fighters, Your Highness," he admitted. "But most… they join the expedition to offer 'comfort' to the men."
Ceres stiffened.
"As long as they join, it doesn't matter if they hold a sword up or their skirts up." Legion's voice was grim. "As long as they survive, they get the sack of barley."
Ceres' stomach twisted.
These women were trading their bodies for a chance at survival.
And worse, some of them were just girls.
Children who probably hadn't even reached their first cycle.
Her fingers curled into fists.
"Your Highness, let me bring you back to the palace," Legion said, noticing how pale she had become.
But Ceres shook her head.
"It's fine," she said firmly. "I will stay a while."
Her mind raced.
What could she do?
She couldn't simply hand out food, not only would it make the people lazy, but the nobles would likely take everything from them.
They needed something that couldn't be stolen from them.
"Delphine, guard Her Highness," Legion ordered. Then, turning to Ceres, he added, "The Guild Master was father's friend, Your Highness. I will go directly to him to register."
Ceres barely acknowledged him.
She was still watching the desperate faces in line, her chest tight with frustration.
Legion hesitated for a moment, then disappeared into the crowded guild hall.
Barely a minute had passed when Ceres felt a small tug on her skirt.
She turned, and found a tiny girl standing before her.
She was thin, filthy, and shivering.
"Your Highness," Delphine whispered in alarm, instinctively stepping forward as if to shield her.
But Ceres gently placed a hand on her maid's arm.
"It's okay, Delphine," she murmured.
Then, she crouched down to meet the child's eyes.
"What is it, little girl?" she asked, offering a warm smile.
The girl bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking.
"Do you… have food?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I, I'm hungry. My brothers and sisters, too."
Ceres' heart clenched.
Before she could answer, the girl's stomach growled loudly.
She winced, embarrassed.
"I… I didn't bring any food with me," Ceres admitted, regret lacing her voice.
The child lowered her head, disappointed.
"Where are your parents?" Ceres asked.
"Our Papa is gone," the girl said quietly. "Mama is in line for the registration."
Ceres followed her gaze back to the endless line of people.
She inhaled deeply, then smiled again.
"Where is your home?" she asked. "I'd like to meet your brothers and sisters."
The girl's eyes widened.
Delphine tensed beside her.
"Your Highness," Delphine whispered cautiously.
Ceres cut her off.
"Legion will take a while," she reasoned. Then, turning back to the child, she added, "I will give you food, if you take me to your house, Maureen."
The girl stiffened.
"You… You know my name?"
Ceres nodded.
Maureen's eyes filled with wonder.
Then, without hesitation, she reached out and grasped Ceres' hand.
"Come with me!" she said eagerly.
Ceres let the child lead her through the narrow, frozen streets.
Delphine followed anxiously, her unease evident in her expression.
Maureen led them through twisting alleys, taking them five corners away from the town square where the registration was being held.
Finally, they stopped in front of a crumbling house.
Or at least, what used to be a house.
The roof was torn, the walls were barely holding together, and the door was nothing more than a rotting slab of wood.
Ceres felt a lump rise in her throat.
She had seen poverty before.
But this?
This was desperation.
Maureen pushed open the door, and a gust of freezing air swept through the ruined space.
Inside, the temperature was no different from the outside.
It was freezing.
In the far corner, Ceres saw four more children huddled together, their small bodies curled into one another for warmth.
The youngest looked no older than three.
Ceres could see their HP.
All of them were below 10, and one of them was dropping even lower.
If she did nothing, these children would not live past ten years old.
Her heart tightened painfully.
"Merry, Pippin, Lily, Noe, come here!" Maureen called excitedly. "She's going to give us food!"
The children rushed forward, their faces full of expectation.
Ceres forced herself to smile.
"Can we take a seat?" she asked gently.
Maureen immediately ran around the tiny space, looking for something to use.
She found a wooden crate, too heavy for her small frame, and pushed it across the floor with great effort.
Then, she dusted it off carefully before turning to Ceres.
"You can sit here!" she said proudly.
Ceres took a seat, her heart aching at the sight.
"I'm going to give you food," she said. "But it's not for free."
The children's faces fell.
"We… We don't have any money," Merry, the five-year-old, said in a small, trembling voice.
Ceres felt her stomach twist.
They were just children, and yet they already understood what it meant to be poor.
"I'm not asking for money," she reassured them.
Instead, she turned her gaze to Maureen.
"You can talk to plants, right?"
The little girl's eyes widened in shock.
"First, you knew my name," Maureen whispered. "And now you know that? How?"
Ceres grinned.
"That's my special ability," she said, winking.
Then, she looked at all the children seriously.
"I will give you fruits to eat," she said. "But you have to promise me a few things."
The children stared at her, unsure.
"First," Ceres continued, "when you eat them, do not eat the seeds. You will plant them."
"Second, when the trees bear fruit, you must give thirty of them to the Empress Palace."
"Why the Empress Palace?" Maureen asked suspiciously.
"Because…" Ceres smiled playfully.
"I am the Empress."
The children's eyes grew huge.
They stared at her, completely frozen in shock.
"No way…" Maureen whispered, her voice full of disbelief.
"You're lying!" Pippin, the four-year-old, blurted out.
Ceres laughed.
"You don't have to believe me," she said. "But you still have to keep your promise."
"The rest of the fruit is yours to do whatever you want with."
She looked at them firmly.
"But, third rule. If someone in need asks you for food, you must share it with them. Just like how I am sharing with you now."
The children exchanged hesitant glances.
They didn't fully understand everything she was saying, but…
They nodded anyway.
"Pinky swear?" Ceres asked, holding up her little finger.
"Pinky swear?" Pippin echoed, tilting his head.
"It means it's a promise you cannot break, unless you want to lose your pinky."
The children gasped.
"You mean it will fall off?!" Noe, the youngest, cried.
Ceres grinned mischievously.
"Of course."
The children hurriedly reached out, crossing their pinkies over hers.
One after the other, they made the promise.
"Now," Ceres said, straightening. "I need a big container."
Pippin pointed to a large, empty supply crate.
Ceres walked over to it, placed her hand on the surface, and whispered:
"Little apple, round and bright,
Sweet as day, warm as light.
Hold your promise, keep it true,
And tasty magic stays with you!
But break your word, oh what a shame,
Bitter, sour, no more the same!
So keep your vow, let kindness grow,
And let the apple's magic glow!"
A soft golden light flickered around her fingers.
And then, the barrel filled instantly with large, glossy red apples.
The children gasped.
Their tiny hands covered their mouths in awe.
Even Delphine looked stunned.
Ceres smiled, picking up an apple.
She called the children forward one by one, handing them each a fruit.
"Go on," she encouraged. "Taste it."
The children hesitated.
They looked at each other, their tiny faces full of longing.
But still, they hesitated.
So Ceres took an apple for herself and bit into it first.
Crunch.
The sweet juice filled her mouth instantly.
"Mmm," she hummed. "Here, Delphine, have one."
She handed another apple to Delphine, who accepted it hesitantly.
"Your Highness," Delphine whispered, staring at the fruit in shock. "Is this, Malvera?"
Ceres shook her head.
"No," she said. "This is called an apple."
Delphine took a careful bite.
Her eyes widened.
If they hadn't tasted Malvera fruit before, this would have been the sweetest fruit they had ever eaten.
When the children saw them eating, their hesitation finally vanished.
They bit into their apples"
And their eyes lit up in pure delight.
"Delicious!" they cheered.