Sophia has to break this awkward silence, the Crown Prince of Tianci staring at her like some idle lion as they sit in this room; reading the twelfth and eleventh volume of The Crane Flies together. “Zai, I-is there a problem?”

  There’s a short moment for his mind to comprehend words even, a quick response to his wife given shortly as he looks away. “N-No.”

  Her committee thinks on this, reading this partner of her’s easily. There’s definitely a problem going on, but we shouldn’t push him; that’s bad manners.

  “What’s the problem?” Sophia asks with a small smile, this Ensolian can opener put to the test on her canned royal from Tianci.

  Her words bring him out of it. A long moment before Zai allows himself to consider, formulating an answer from his own thoughts. “I’m working on something right now, and it’s a lot to handle.”

  There’s a genuine hesitation to his tone, at that implication that somehow he himself couldn’t come together to complete this monumental task alone. A long pause, enough that Sophia catches the hidden meaning behind his own words.

  Working on something? The Committee narrows its collective eyebrows at that implication. Out here? What could be…

  “If you need assistance…” Sophia, for some awful reason, begins to offer her own time in this matter. A quick bite of the tongue as the words leave her own mouth, too late to bring back as the Crown Prince of Tianci stares at her,

  And he does take it. “Sophia, if I told you that I was getting into politics what would you say?”

  The Fourth Princess of the Ensolian Imperium blinks, then stares.

  And she speaks to the Crown Prince of the Tianci Dominion, her own words butchered slightly as she tries to find the punchline, or trap in those words. “Uh… I’d say you’d… be a decent fit?”

  Yeah of course he’d be a decent fit… Her internal monologue groans. Ya know, his title and all? One would think a royal heir of all people to be interested in politics!

  He smiles. “I’m glad you think so. But these politics are much more direct than I’m used to here in the Dominion and the Palatial Temple. But I suppose smaller towns breed more intimacy with the political maneuverings.”

  “Small town politics?” Sophia asks, eyes already moving back towards the half-open light novel on her lap.

  “Sadly, yes. This small town has quite its own fair share of schemes and pitfalls.”

  There’s a long moment of consideration from the Fourth Princess at opening him further, but like a chronically single, hungry office worker opening a can of Reichland ravioli in their dilapidated apartment at the end of a long day she can’t stop this close to her goal. “And… you’re involved?”

  There’s a moment of consideration from the Prince, from his own perspective of this very insignificant matter. “You can say that I am beginning to involve myself, yes. Just on the local level though, and with regards to our… identities.”

  Uhhh… township level politics. Lower than provinces, city level structures—no, smaller than that. Literally a small town political schema. Her central consciousness begins to search through their libraries of knowledge, literally tossing through entire file cabinets of memories and lessons. There it is!

  Sophia Elise the Eighth knows township level politics, as every not so heir-apparent royal of the Silver Throne should. Not only taught to her for the sake of laying the critical foundations of political thought, but also as a backup plan… just in case.

  In the earlier, more brutal years of the Ceramic Era, any failed heir playing for the title of Emperor would find themselves at best exiled to some unknown town in a minor province; fated to forever live their lives in irrelevance planning out harvest schedules and performing minor accounting work. Perhaps, maybe even in these final years of this era, if things went really bad for her siblings mother could probably invoke such a tradition—sending the offending child out to some nice, quiet farming village in the Reichlands.

  Sophia almost cries at that thought. Oh Goddess that would’ve been perfect for me…

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But Sophia Elise the Eighth, Fourth Princess of the Imperium, did know the small politics. Dealing with the daily movements of royal oversight in those small balloted elections, playing the royal courts of taverns, bars and small eateries, and most importantly (and perhaps the only thing Sophia was somewhat competent at): auditing whatever random financial statements came across the desk of a very overqualified noble overseer.

  “What activities are occurring in Port Azuru that demand your attention?” Sophia continues to pry.

  Zai takes a very, very deep look at his wife, remembering that small promise of his made to her father. And he, in his own way, plays a little bit of the game with her as he reels her into this baited hook. “Sophia, are you certain you want to know?”

  “I do want to know.” She spits out without a second thought.

  He’s already prepared this briefing, Sophia noting that those words of his seem almost perfectly metered and chosen. “Port Azuru is quite corrupt. I’ve noted that during our outings and my own personal conversations that quite a significant amount of money is being… misappropriated. Not obviously of course, but enough that people have started to notice.”

  “How so?”

  Zai has examples already, shifting in his seat. “Well, many of the usual public works projects; a sewage system, road repairs, and even a new train station in town have been delayed for quite a bit of time. Beyond just regular construction delays and bureaucracy, there’s something else happening here. It’s how much the shopkeepers are paying in their taxes, it’s how much people are buying from each shop. Nothing really is adding up, and I have a feeling that someone in the local government is… well they’re hiding their money somehow.”

  Sophia narrows her eyes, boredom already on her lips. “So it’s a gut feeling.”

  “More than that, it’s an observation. Most houses here don’t have running water despite it being a Dominion statute, the train station still looks dilapidated despite it being years since it received funding from the Governor General… and you can see it in how these people avoid talking about their Mayor.”

  Sophia’s thought processes continue to dig within the archives, finding the notes for this. Township level corruption that fits these criteria? Misappropriation of funds, criminal activities such as laundering and extortion, and possibly just general… evils? Yeah, that just about covers it.

  Sophia blinks with utter inhuman boredom. “So misappropriation of government funding, possible extortion of town businesses, and… money laundering I assume? Possible tax fraud as well, if you want to cover your bases legally.”

  She doesn’t know what to make of the shock on Prince Zai Tianci’s face as he processes her words, her competence in this matter. “Y-you know?”

  “It’s township level politics Zai, of course I’d know about it.”

  Her internal monologue snaps at her self-worth. No you don’t know, that’s Imperial not Dominion Politics. How dare you overqualify yourself!

  “I-I mean, I don’t know your system specifically…” She nervously looks away. “I don’t know your system, no.”

  “But that is what is happening here.” Zai continues to explain. “Do you have experience in this matter?”

  The consciousness committee grits their teeth at his statement, exposing them immediately. Not really, sitting with a private tutor (and dad) and getting all that information crammed into your head is not the same as real life experience…

  “Of course I do.” Sophia proudly lies on her resume. “Small town politics? Easy.”

  “Then…” Zai swallows his own pride for a moment, trying to bridge the ruling gap between his own personal Dominion and that of a distant Imperium. “Then, could you assist me in this investigation that I’m undertaking? And possibly the political scheme that we’ll need to put together to… bring this mayor down. Think of all the people we’d help, this town that you’ve grown to love in these few months. Sophia, in your Imperium you can never see the effects of your grand actions. But here? Here you can make a difference.”

  Absolutely not. Half the committee votes against it. We’re just getting settled in still. We’re still learning Tianci (mostly done at this point), we got our donuts, and we have a *usable* ‘bed.’ We’re this close to rotting, this close to our dream. If we say yes to this then…

  The other half interrupts with a mid-debate interjection. Zai’s pretty damn nice as an arranged husband. Do we think if we spend more time with him we could utterly impress him with our ultra super sharp political acumen?

  The other side of the chamber takes a sharp breath at this point, allowing their opponents to keep laying on the facts. A thousand years of the Elise have come to breed us: the penultimate weapon of politics! He’ll be so impressed that he’ll be BEGGING to spend more time with us.

  “Wow Sophia, I didn’t know you were such a diligent, smart girl.” He’d smile, blushing. “You’re just my type…”

  “Oh I know Zai.” We’d get closer, and we’d breathe on his lips. “You might be my type too… but I don’t know yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take off your shirt and we’ll find out…”

  The argument is completely derailed, and the entire chamber falls to silence once more.

  We’re taking the rotting option. The entire committee formulates its final answer. No matter what he says he can handle this alone.

  Zai Tianci, ever the politician and husband, takes a new approach. “Sophia, I’ll make you my egg custard tarts if you help me out.”

  “I’m in.”