Milla hesitated as if she had something to say, but then she left the room.

Left alone, Stella retrieved the pickaxe she had hidden under the bed. It was just an old, worn-out farm tool, yet she felt inexplicably drawn to it. Stella marveled at the shiny blade as she ran her fingertips over it.

Finally touching what had lingered in her mind all day, she felt a wave of relief. The silver-gleaming pickaxe now appeared beautiful to her.

The gently curved line was elegant, while the straight edge exuded strength. Stella, who had been caressing the pickaxe as if it were a precious treasure, suddenly stopped and let out a deep sigh.

“Phew.”

Stella’s thoughts became complicated; she never imagined there would come a day when she would be obsessed with a farm tool. Yet, like a girl hugging a teddy bear, she held the pickaxe close to her chest and stroked it.

The cold metal felt tangible against her fingertips. The handle was worn, but the blade shone brightly as if it had been polished just yesterday.

At first, she thought it might be silver, but it wasn’t. Just holding it brought her an odd sense of comfort. Memories of playing in the dirt as a child surfaced effortlessly.

While Stella examined the pickaxe closely, turning it this way and that, a knock echoed through the room, accompanied by Milla’s voice.

“Princess, it’s Milla.”

Startled, Stella quickly shoved the pickaxe under the bed, wishing she could have held it a little longer.

“Come in.”

“Princess, I’ve brought the books you asked for. But why are you sitting on the floor?”

Milla’s puzzled gaze shifted toward the space under the bed.

The princess was sprawled out on the carpet like a child, not perched on a chair or the bed. Milla couldn’t believe her eyes and asked with wide-eyed surprise.

Earlier in the day, she had entered with her dress covered in dirt, and now she was sitting on the floor like a child.

“Ah… I thought something had fallen under the bed. I guess I was mistaken. There’s nothing there.”

Stella mumbled an excuse to Milla, who was suspiciously eyeing the area under the bed, and then stood up. Embarrassed, she dusted off her dress skirt, which wasn’t even dirty.

Milla reluctantly tore her eyes away from the bed and handed Stella the two books she had brought.

“I’ve brought two more history books about the Credion Empire. Reading these will make your next lesson much easier.”

Despite her suspicious gaze, Milla’s tone remained as calm as a still lake.

“Oh. Thanks.”

After quickly accepting the books, Stella skimmed the titles and pulled out one that seemed odd.

“This isn’t a history book, though?”

“Pardon? That can’t be. I checked before bringing them.”

Milla took back the book she had handed over and checked the title. As Stella had mentioned, one was indeed a history book titled “The Beginning of the Credion Empire,” but the other had a peculiar title.

“Noble Farming Methods?”

Milla frowned slightly as she confirmed the title, seemingly unable to comprehend it. Was there such a book in the library?

Milla knew the layout of the imperial library perfectly.

Yet no matter how hard she tried to remember, she couldn’t recall ever seeing a farming book with such an unusual title. Moreover, the shelf from which Milla had taken the books contained only hundreds of history books.

The librarian she knew in the imperial library was obsessively neat and particular, so there was no way they would have made such a mistake.

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t pinpoint where the error had occurred, but Milla wasn’t the type to make excuses.

“I’m sorry. It seems I brought the wrong book. I’ll go and exchange it right away.”

Milla bowed deeply in apology and turned to leave with the book when…

“Milla!”

Stella urgently called out to stop her. The word ‘noble’ in the title unsettled her; it might relate to the noble pickaxe the earth spirits had mentioned.

“Yes, Princess. Is there anything else you need?”

Milla asked, her face reddening. She wanted to rectify her inexplicable mistake as quickly as possible.

“Just leave that book here.”

“Pardon? This book? But it’s about farming.”

Milla double-checked, as it wasn’t the kind of book a princess would usually read.

“I like the title, so I want to read it. ‘Noble Farming Methods’ sounds interesting, doesn’t it?”

Milla handed the book back to Stella, bewildered.

Looking at Milla’s blank expression, Stella realized for the first time that Milla was close to her own age.

Milla, who always acted mature and wore a stern expression, had seemed at least ten years older than her; now, she appeared about the same age.

“Thank you. Now go and rest. Don’t bother going back to the library, okay?”

Milla handed back the book, which was quite thick, and its cover, lined with old leather, was as soft as the back of a woman’s hand.

“Yes. Thank you.”

The distance was palpable again in Milla’s flawless tone as she responded.

Back in her room, Milla sat for a long time with a blank expression, her diary open in front of her.

The ink from the quill spread on the paper, creating a black stain the size of a coin. Milla noticed it too late and quickly lifted the quill, but the ink had already bled across three or four pages of the notebook.

Milla flipped through the empty pages of her diary one by one. The size of the black ink spots diminished as she turned to the back.

“Sigh…”

Milla let out an exasperated sigh and carefully tore out the ink-stained pages. It took removing four pages before the unintended black spots were completely gone.

After folding the torn papers neatly and placing them in the trash bin, Milla picked up her quill again.

Scratch, scratch.

For a while, only the sound of the sharp quill scratching against the rough paper filled the quiet room. She had filled about half of the diary when she paused.

-Now go and rest. Don’t bother going back to the library, okay?

Milla recalled Stella, who had readily accepted the farming book she had no interest in, out of consideration for her.

She had thought that a princess from Amalrune would only care about herself and regard her subordinates as less than dirt beneath her nails.

However, although they hadn’t been together long, Stella was very different from the other royals she had encountered before. It was reassuring, yet strangely unsettling.

Suddenly, she remembered her old room.

The silk wallpaper with delicate embroidery, the soft curtains that rippled like waves in the breeze, the jewelry box that sparkled in the sunlight, the row of perfume bottles, and the color-coordinated shoes and hats, along with the fan made of swan feathers.

And her mother, smiling kindly at her.

All of that was gone now. It felt as empty and distant as a dream from long ago. Milla gently swept her palm across the dustless desk, then surveyed the room with a gaze as vacant as the air around her.

There were no bright colors anywhere—not on the curtains, the bedding, or the carpet. With a complicated expression, Milla took out a small box from the drawer and placed it on the desk.

To my beloved first daughter, Milla.

Milla traced the engraved name with her fingertip, then, after ensuring the window was closed, opened the lid.

Clear music played as a wooden doll in a red dress slowly spun in place.

Being an old item, both the music and movement would stop occasionally, but if she waited patiently, it would start moving again. Its creaky, about-to-break movements reminded her of herself.

Snap!

The box closed, and the music stopped.

Scratch, scratch.

Milla meticulously recorded everything that had happened that day. The more thoroughly she recorded, the more valuable it became, so Milla did her best, thinking of each letter as money.

“People like me don’t even cross their minds. Don’t bother caring about them.”

Milla’s hand tensed as she wrote in her diary, like she was scolding herself.

***

Stella, who had been fiddling with the pickaxe until just before going to bed, finally woke up from a strange dream in which the pickaxe proposed to her.

It was absurd enough to be proposed to by a pickaxe, but what was even more ridiculous was that she felt excited about the proposal.

She thought it might have been better to dream of the pickaxe turning into a monster and chasing her. She couldn’t believe she had such a dream, enchanted not by a diamond ring or a necklace, but by a pickaxe.

It seemed that the pickaxe from that jar must have some strange power.

“I shouldn’t touch it for a while.”

As Stella muttered to herself, shaking her head to forget the embarrassing dream, she noticed a commotion outside.

“What’s going on?”

Realizing the noise was coming from the garden, Stella quickly went out to the balcony. She was left speechless at the sight before her, her mouth hanging open.

The garden, which had been in disarray until yesterday, was now neatly organized overnight.

The overgrown and disorderly weeds had all been pulled out, and the flowerbeds that had partially collapsed here and there were now firmly repaired.

She could see flowers blooming in clusters that had been hidden by the weeds before. Among them, the most noticeable were the white daisies blooming in groups.

She remembered the earth spirits who had confidently declared they would take care of the garden maintenance. Although she had asked for their help, she hadn’t expected them to change it so dramatically in just one night. The earth spirits seemed more capable than she had thought.

“The land has become perfect for farming, huh? Oops!”

Stella was startled by her own casual remark, her mouth snapping shut in surprise.