Cactus Dunes

Nonsense. Now take a look, Count. I've a present for you, all the way from Kazimierz.

What a beautiful pendant! My greatest thanks, Lady Diana, and send my well-wishes to your husband. Now, hurry along inside, we can't have the snow burying your gorgeous looks.

Hah! You speak as fine a line as ever.

Oh-ho, look who's here! If it isn't our 'Baron of Rye!'

I could never shoulder a title as hefty as Baron, but here I am anyway, the pure nerve!

See what you're saying! We all respect you from the bottom of our hearts. Who spurns the man who feeds his people well, now? Ha ha ha!

Ah, you're quite right. Once harvest comes next year, I'd be honored if you visit my humble home. The tallest windmills in Toron, the scent of flour everywhere. A stay sure to enchant you, if I do say so myself.

Quite good! This blizzard shall pass, and next year will come trotting in right behind it with fine, fine harvests.

My gratitude for your kind words.

Head in and warm yourself up, now. We're serving the spiced bread you so love tonight—of course, baked with most exquisite, fragrant flour, all sourced from your farms.

How about you? Won't you come in? It's almost time... Let your good servants welcome the remaining guests.

Perhaps you speak sense, but no matter. I like to greet my invitees personally. They're all the most adorable people, whether noble or merchant, cleric or soldier.

Toron is a fine, fine place, isn't it?

Why, you character, you...

Now, let me see, we still have the Mister and Misses Arizona, that admirable lighthouse operator, and... hm?

E-hem.

I'd heard from my most venerable fellow student, that gifted orator Thomson, that he had recently taken ill, and I couldn't brook the thought of him facing a blizzard for a banquet. Hence my specifically sending for a Messenger, to send him my well-wishes—

And yet, imagine my surprise to see—what seems to be a sneaky darling of a Messenger right here!

Here-here!

Eek!

Ah-ha, Mistress Heidi, how long since we last met?

Uncle Vincent, don't ruffle up my hair! I had to spend so long making it!

Fine, fine. Ah, little Heidi, you've grown so much. What a dashing lady you are now.

However! Your father never sent word you'd be arriving today. Be candid with your uncle now, have you come on the sly?

And I say, you're still quite young. If your father saw your dress tonight, you'd be in for the nag, wouldn't you?

Uncle! I'd hate him nagging at me. That's why I slipped off in the first place!

I heard you called out a gallery of VIPs and bright minds tonight, and I couldn't help my curiosity. Not to mention, my papa always wants me to broaden my scope, get out beyond the classroom, and isn't this the finest opportunity!

And you swear you're not here to see the boys, hoping for a chance meeting? You know, your father's told me, you've been absorbed in all those tawdry romance novels lately, and it's been worrying him so.

How—How—How could I? I'm not such a naive girl now, ah ha ha, ha ha.

Your father worded it very well. Romanticism is all and well, but writing aiming to be consumed, pulling wool over the truths of life, so as to curry favor with readers and wring the last drop of worth from its material; there's nothing of value in it.

In that regard, all of Toron ought to be learning from your father.

Ahem, Uncle, let's drop the subject now. I feel embarrassed hearing this...

And honestly, my papa. Telling people off left and right when he was young, and in the end he made himself a businessman, made himself a huge fortune... The old guard in the association constantly joke about him. It drives me mad.

Some things up Life's sleeve you just can't refuse. Oh, well, imagine Thomson did it for you two ladies. Back when he was younger, he'd find any chance to grumble about his unrecognized talent to me. How's his health been lately?

Just his chronic pains. Once winter's gone, he'll be live and well as ever.

So you availed yourself while your parents couldn't watch you, made off with your mother's clothes, and came to join the festivities?

Right—ah, no, I came on educational purposes, just as my father guided me.

Heidi...

Heh heh. How about you just never saw me?

You've been quite too headstrong this time. Look at this awful snow today. Just suppose something had happened to you on the way, how would I ever explain to your father?

Ha, ha ha... well! Uncle, you see, it's so late now anyway. I can't just find a car and head back now, can I?

Oh, dear, child. Quick, in. Don't you freeze now.

Hooray! You're the best, Uncle!

Er... but who are you still waiting for? Is there still some guest noble enough to wait like a snowman at the door?

Quite. An outstanding Laterano cleric.

Last year, your aunt caught some illness unawares, had a fever that wouldn't abate, and it's thanks to that cleric that it vanished.

We struck up concord afterwards, and I paid frequent visits. This cleric's not just fine with medicine, but has original views on all walks of life. Truly a mind-opener.

Huh... Well, if you vouch for them like this, they must be really incredible, right?

But of course. If a person of those talents could swear loyalty to the Vincent family, it'd bring a deal of vigor to building the local land.

I even had every intent to invite that cleric along as a friend on my journey to Londinium, and your aunt would've appreciated the diversion, but would you know our rotten luck? Out on business.

So today, mark my words, I'll be introducing this insightful scholar to one and all.

Uncle... is that Laterano cleric—a gentleman by any chance? A refined, mannerly Sankta, maybe? On the older side, or?

There it is, you little scamp! Swearing your pure intentions, even!

Just asking!

Don't get too excited. She's a meritorious woman. And she isn't a Sankta. Very rare to see, but all suggests she's a Feline cleric. I truly do appreciate people like her.

Ahem...!

U—Uncle, I didn't hear any of that, and I won't breathe a word to Auntie, you can cross my heart.

And what silly ideas have you gotten! I really ought to make Thomson give you a proper word or three!

My apologies, Sir Vincent.

Might I have arrived late?

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