A ferry service. 

If there was anything to demonstrate a princess’s willpower, it was this. 

Renise leaned over the deck as the creaky barge prepared to dock. 

The rest of the passengers were already waiting to disembark from the ship. And if the former noblewoman didn’t join them, she’d soon find herself needing to jump overboard in order to escape accidentally heading back to sea.

The captain intended to return even if it meant skirting with night. As did many others. The queue of passengers eager to pay would begin long before dawn rose, and no captain worth his salt wouldn't take advantage of the winds when they blew so favourably–and profitably.

Most hoping for a berth were labourers. Hired help from Trierport’s many masonry guilds eager to prove their worth. There were craftsmen, too. Blacksmiths, stoneworkers and carpenters. Anyone with a trade and anyone with hands. 

But there were tourists mixed in amongst them as well.

And that was the most absurd thing of all. 

The Emerald Sea was dangerous at the best of times. And for the waters around Trierport, it was always the worst of times. 

Piracy was a menace which had existed since the first sail tested the waves. But in the past few years, it had grown to become an existential threat for the sailors, merchants … and yes, even the smugglers of the kingdom. 

But that was yesterday.

Today, piracy had ebbed to its lowest tide. 

The war galleon which the Golden Prince had commanded was now the guarantor of the kingdom’s shipping lanes, while the island it had once called home was now …

Well, Renise didn’t quite know.

And that was why she was here.

“Passengers disembark! Welcome to Soap Island!”

A ramp bridging the barge to the docks was laid down.

Renise was the only one not to move.

Despite being regularly briefed on the development of the island, nothing could have prepared her for the sight, nor for the amount of activity on display. 

It was as busy as Reitzlake’s markets in the morning.

A product of Juliette’s kindness and foresight, here was an island designed to both house and rehabilitate the most shamed of society, offering them a chance to make amends for their misdeeds.

What had once been a dishevelled pirate den was now the foundations of a true town. The docks were wide and expansive, with every inch filled with organised piles of masonry. More would be needed. 

Although bits and pieces of the original shanty houses still remained, a jungle of wooden frames had overtaken the port.

The sound of hammers and saws filled the air, drowning out the hurried footsteps of those hoping to forget what was very much the calmest voyage the Emerald Sea could ever offer.

Renise wasn’t one of them.

Pausing in the middle of the ramp, she teetered slightly as the salt breeze reminded her of a home no longer hers. The Rimeaux Estate wasn’t near the sea, and yet when she leaned out of her balcony, that didn’t stop the influx of ships sailing into Reitzlake from bringing the scent to her instead.

It was a feeling both calming and nostalgic. 

… Both things which went out of the window when she realised who was waiting to ambush her.

“Your Highness,” said Renise, regretting dawdling as she broke into a curtsey. “I was told we’d be meeting aboard The Gentle Princess.”

Before her, 1st Princess Florella Contzen offered a smile to match the name of the ship she owned.

Draped in a full travelling cloak, she cut a less conspicuous figure than her knights watching nearby. 

Although they’d dispensed with their shining armour, their attentive stature and the swords by their waist gave them away for what they were. None were smiling. 

Renise might be the Crown Prince’s confidante. But how she had gained such a position, nobody knew–least of all herself.

“My apologies, Lady Renise,” said Princess Florella with an embarrassed laugh. “I’d actually forgotten that renovations to the ship’s galley were due to take place today. Rather than earning the ire of my very excited sailors, I thought it best to welcome you instead. I have an alternative itinerary in mind.”

Renise nodded, choosing not to correct the misuse of her former title. It seemed that to everyone, she would always be the daughter of House Rimeaux.

“I am honoured, Your Highness. It is a delight to meet you after our exchange of letters.” 

“The honour is mine. Your efforts regarding Rose House have been exemplary. I’m deeply thankful for all that you do. My brother’s shoulders have always borne the weight of the kingdom. To assist with this great burden is something I cannot display enough gratitude towards.”

The princess gave a smile radiating with sunshine. 

It was different from her siblings.

Crown Prince Roland’s smile was regal and handsome, yet often distant and guarded. Juliette’s was earnest and beautiful, but often came with a laugh which drew deep concern for whoever it was directed towards, regardless of what crime they committed.

“I’m grateful for the opportunity to do all that I can. And to impose upon your time as well.”

“Time is the only commodity the merchants cannot sell me. But that doesn’t mean I cannot conjure it when required–for example, an excuse to walk out and about while troubling you for your opinion.”

“Regarding the value of the island, Your Highness?”

“No. The snacks.” 

Casting aside any notion of stuffiness or royal protocol, the princess gestured towards the first of the alleys peeking out amidst the bars which had only thrived since the kingdom seized the port.

Her smile turned playful. 

“... Shall we?”

Renise was taken aback.

Even so, that didn’t stop her from offering a nod along with whatever sound she made. 

And just like that, Princess Florella began to lead the way.

With the sound of her knights trailing behind, the 1st Princess navigated the winding alleys, pointing occasionally at anything which wasn’t a bar while skipping over the many puddles with familiar ease.

It was both a relief and concern that she possessed a willful streak to her. 

As the 1st Princess, she should really not be offering a guided tour into what was a town filled with falling bits and, as far as Renise knew, former residents who refused to leave. 

However, as she was led through the narrow, crooked passages that this town had instead of streets, it wasn’t the extensive renovation work on every façade that caught her attention.

“A freshly made moss cake for you, my friend! Let me know if any changes are needed.”

It was the goblins.

Renise was stunned as she saw a group of goblins gathered around a stall. 

They wrinkled their noses with various shades of either delight or dissatisfaction as they bartered for confectionery from a highly enterprising entrepreneur. A sight Princess Florella had no doubt wished to show, given the readiness of her soft laughter.

“The goblins arrived only last week,” she said as she continued leading the way. “There are only a few, but I’m told that more will be arriving shortly. They’ve already sought to tour all that the island has to offer. The port has become very lively since their arrival.”

Renise turned her gaze past her shoulder, watching the exchange with the stallkeeper as she followed the 1st Princess’s steps.

The goblins slapped down an entire pouch of crowns, drawing the delight of the stallkeeper … at least until he realised that it was the amount the goblins wanted in compensation.

“I … I see,” said Renise with an uncertain smile. “I’m … well, I’m rather surprised. Goblins are not known as seafarers … or indeed, tourists.”

“True. But since the events in Maringarde, that has been allowed to change.”

Renise paused for a moment.

She’d heard of the events in Marinsgarde. Or at least as much as Rose House’s contacts at the guild could confirm. All that was truly known was that an adventurer fitting Juliette’s description had solved an incident so wildly concerning that she’d purposefully hidden all the finer details from the Crown Prince. 

He was only beginning to sleep for more than 4 hours a day.

She had no wish to jeopardise this.

“Truly? Then these would be ... ?

“Yes.” Princess Florella nodded enthusiastically. “Goblins from the same tribe. My sister invited them.”

Renise didn’t know whether to be shocked or simply confused.

Attempts to establish more cordial relations with the goblins were not entirely new. Nor was the howling laughter given in response by the matriarchs. But that the invitation would concern an island still being developed was highly unorthodox. 

Perhaps that was why she’d earned their respect–even if they’d never admit it.

“I’ve been told that the goblins are assisting in the mining of new silver deposits around Marinsgarde. A wonderful feat in cooperation and the pursuit of peace. I wasn’t aware this extended to … well, touring this island.”

“That’s because they’re not only here to tour. They’re also here to survey.”

“Survey? What are they surveying?”

“Construction sites. To build the Citadel of Woe. Ah, here it–he moved his stall! How cheeky.”

Princess Florella paused before a smiling stallkeeper, utterly unconcerned with the bewilderment and slight alarm upon Renise’s face. 

The stallkeeper offered a knowing bow before his customer, and after a quick exchange between them, the princess was given a parchment bag filled with choux pastry.

“They’re delicious,” she said, opening the bag to show off the contents. “They have ice cream inside. By all means, please try one.”

Renise blinked.

She slowly reached in and retrieved a ball of cold pastry. It stayed melting in her hand.

“Excuse me, but what is the … Citadel of Woe?”

“Ah, that.” The 1st Princess nibbled on the choux pastry, then hid her mouth with her hands. “It’s a castle they intend to build.”

“A castle.” 

“The name is tentative. Other options include The Bleeding Spire, The Sepulcher of Pain and the Dread Crucible. They’re all quite colourful. They offered to consider my own suggestions, but I’m afraid I rather lack in their creativity. I’m excited to hear what they eventually choose.”

Renise looked up at the sky.

A sky where currently no goblin castle existed to cover it.

“Oh,” she said simply. “The goblins are building a castle … may I ask why?” 

“As far as I’m aware, because they want to. They’re quite enthusiastic about it as well. The lead architect has many wonderful ideas in mind. He’s already begun securing materials for the framework, but assures me that it can be built very quickly and with minimal disruption to the expansion of the port.”

Renise slowly nodded … not at all certain if speed of construction was an appropriate trait for a castle.

Even so, that wasn’t her chief concern.

“... Do, um, they wish to be paid?”

“For payment, they shall have permanent lodgings in the castle and several annexes for their exclusive use. A section of the port will also be developed into a goblin bazaar with their own wharfs. I offered them an embassy as well, but they were content with just these.”

“Lodgings and a bazaar … ?”

“They seem impressed by what Soap Island has to offer. I also heard something about attempting to tame a kraken as well.”

It was an endless spiral of confusion.

To so readily invite goblins to have a permanent spot anywhere in the kingdom was something which would only embolden the princess’s critics. And yet even more puzzling was why goblins would even agree to such an arrangement.

After all, there was little about the smell humans made which appealed to them. If they wished to build a castle, then there were plenty of places they could do so amidst the mountains other nations claimed, but which they had sole de jure control over.

And then–realisation struck. 

Soap Island was a different matter.

It offered advantages their usual bazaars did not–and that was trade by sea. 

With a permanent marketplace to barter their goods, they could be assured of access to a wealth of goods without being constricted by the mountainous land routes visiting merchants needed to brave. And because the island was owned by Tirea, it meant that responsibility for security fell solely upon the kingdom.

Goblins didn’t have the means to patrol the seas. 

However, building a castle was something which would undoubtedly assist. 

It was a symbol of permanence. Of a safe harbour. And an invitation of open trade while beneath the banner of the Kingdom of Tirea. That meant more ships and more earnings.

An elegant arrangement where all parties stood to benefit. 

But the true prize was much more than that.

It was the fostering of positive relations with the goblin matriarchs and the standing of the Kingdom of Tirea as a mediator of diplomacy.

Such a reputation was a shield more powerful than any contingent of knights against the foreign powers which looked towards its small borders. 

Juliette had invited the goblins knowing this would happen. 

“I … I see …” Renise’s voice trembled as she realised the gulf in their wisdom. “That … That is truly wonderful … ! Of course, goblins are known to be highly enterprising … it is little surprise that they would grasp an opportunity when given by a princess who has already proven herself ... !”

Princess Florella nodded as her bag of choux pastry swiftly emptied.

“Quite so. And not just them. Soap Island is becoming quite popular. Why, just in the past few days alone, I’ve been approached by representatives from the Miner's Guild, the Adventurer’s Guild, the Holy Church and the witches.”

Renise idly clapped her hands in delight, the words barely entering her ears.

Especially that last one.

She absolutely didn’t hear anything. Because she too desired more than 4 hours of sleep.

Thus, she smiled as both hope and blissful ignorance filled her soul. 

It was little wonder why Juliette was so ardent about Soap Island. Aside from the opportunity to allow those who had committed terrible crimes to redeem themselves, the presence of so many organisations meant a potential windfall for the kingdom’s coffers.  

The future was bright.

“Haah … haah … haaaaah …”

And it would remain the case even when a very uncomfortable looking dwarf appeared with a sudden stomping of boots, a clattering of tools and a heavy gasp of breath. 

His beard and brows were utterly drenched in sweat. Renise moved very slightly away.

“Ah, Your … Your Highness,” said the dwarf, not even realising Renise’s presence as he supported against a wall. His smile failed to hide either his flushed face or the hole he made with his palm. “Goodness, what a … what a surprise it is to find you here … !”

“Mr. Oakenforge!” replied the princess brightly. “My, how wonderful! I was hoping to introduce Lady Renise to you. Lady Renise, this is Mr. Oakenforge. He’s the chief prospector in charge of the island’s mineral mines. Mr. Oakenforge, this is Lady Renise, she’s Crown Prince Roland’s aide.”

The dwarf still didn’t acknowledge her.

Instead, he gave a cough, smoothed down a bit of his haggard beard and offered a nervous smile.

“Right, right, that’s great. Listen, Your Highness, I, uh, there’s something I should mention … you know, now that I’ve coincidentally come across you in a place I’ve never once visited before.”

“Oh?” Princess Florella tilted her head quizzically. “What might that be?”

“Well, I’ve just come back from a nice little catch up with my cousin Dorin. It’s been a good few years. We had a lot to talk about. Marriage. Divorce. Marriage. Divorce. Dwarven family dynamics, eh? Never straightforward.”

“I … see? And is that what you wished to mention?”

“Ah, no, not at all. It’s just, well, there’s a minor issue I feel I’m obligated to make you aware of. It’s not strictly something I should be talking about, but I wouldn’t wish you to think that I was holding anything back.”

“I would never. You’ve always been open and gracious. May I ask what the minor issue is?”

“Of course. Your kingdom is about to explode.”

A silence followed the dwarf’s remark.

“... Like I said, a minor issue. If you need anything fixed, you know my rates.”