The estate was alive with activity—servants rushing to and fro, nobles strutting around like peacocks, and me? I was stuck trying to scrub charcoal off my hands with a rag that smelled suspiciously like horse.
"Little master, you need to look presentable," Elena scolded, wiping at my face with a damp cloth. "The duke and his daughter are arriving any moment now."
"Don't care," I grumbled, squirming away. Honestly, I had better things to do. My latest sketch, a watermill design, was still unfinished, and I didn't see why some "important guest" had to interrupt my work.
Elena pinched my cheek. "You will care when your father sees you. Now behave."
With a sigh, I let her drag me into the main hall, where Father stood waiting. He looked as stern as ever, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
The duke arrived with all the pomp and ceremony you'd expect from a man of his station. His carriage was a masterpiece of craftsmanship—polished wood, gold accents, and wheels that gleamed like they'd never touched dirt.
When the door opened, out stepped Duke Albrecht, a tall man with piercing eyes and an air of authority. Following him was a small girl, no older than four, dressed in a pristine white gown. Her hair was a cascade of golden curls, and she clutched a tiny notebook in her hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Father greeted the duke with all the formality expected of a count addressing his superior. I, however, was too busy staring at the girl. Something about her was… different.
"Akio," Father said sharply, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Greet the duke and his daughter properly."
I bowed stiffly. "Welcome," I said in my best Japanese, which was still clunky but serviceable.
The girl curtsied in return, her sharp blue eyes studying me like I was some sort of puzzle.
The adults soon left us to our own devices, retreating to Father's study for what I assumed was some kind of political discussion. That left me alone with the girl, who was now flipping through her notebook with an air of quiet confidence.
"What are you drawing?" she asked suddenly, her voice soft but curious.
I hesitated, then pulled out my crumpled sketch of the watermill. "This," I said, holding it out to her. "Spin… water… work easier."
She took the paper and examined it closely, her tiny brow furrowing. "The proportions are off," she said after a moment. "The wheel needs to be bigger. Otherwise, it won't catch enough water to spin properly."
I stared at her, stunned. "You… understand?"
"Of course," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I read about watermills in my father's library. Your design is interesting, though. Where did you learn to draw like this?"
I shrugged, unsure how to explain. "Just… know."
She looked at me, her expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she smiled. "You're strange. I like that."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of conversation—well, as much conversation as two toddlers could manage.
Emilia, as I learned her name was, was sharp. Too sharp for a four-year-old. She asked questions about my sketches, offering insights and corrections that were both helpful and irritating.
At one point, I tried to demonstrate how my pulley system worked using a stack of crates. Naturally, it ended in disaster—the crates toppled over, nearly crushing my foot, and Emilia burst into laughter.
"You're supposed to improve efficiency, not destroy it," she teased, her laughter bubbling like a stream.
"Baby hands," I muttered, glaring at the mess. "Not my fault."
Meanwhile, in Father's study, the real reason for the duke's visit was unfolding.
"Our families have much to gain from an alliance," Duke Albrecht said, sipping his wine. "Your lands are prospering thanks to your son's… unique talents. My lands, however, are in need of innovation. I propose a union between our houses."
Father raised an eyebrow. "A union?"
"Yes," the duke said. "My daughter, Emilia, and your son, Akio. They seem to get along well enough, don't they?"
Father glanced out the window, where the two of us were now arguing over the proper angle for a watermill's paddles. He smirked faintly. "They do. But Akio is… unconventional."
"That's exactly why this arrangement will work," the duke replied. "Emilia is sharp enough to handle him."
After a moment's thought, Father nodded. "Very well. But let's not tell them yet. Let them grow up as friends first."
The duke agreed, and the two men shook hands, sealing the deal.
By the time Emilia and her father prepared to leave, the two of us had established a tentative friendship—or rivalry, depending on how you looked at it.
"You'll show me more of your inventions next time," she said as her maid helped her into the carriage.
"Only if you show me what's in that notebook," I countered, pointing at the little book she'd been clutching all day.
She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Deal. But don't cry when I'm smarter than you."
I narrowed my eyes. "We'll see about that."
As the carriage rolled away, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement. For the first time in this strange new world, I'd met someone who could keep up with me.
Time to step up my game.
Ha guys gachadevildog here please give me power stones guys also I have like 30 or so story's in my google docs once I make a patron I plan to just put them all on there so there's that
Love you guys