“I’m done fixing the roof!”

A thin, sleek body jumped down from the roof.
It was Irina, Asha’s mother, wearing an old shirt and trousers, wiping her sweat.

Asha handed Irina the linen she was holding.
It was the softest piece of cloth in the house.
Even if it was still really coarse.

“Oh, Asha, did you come outside to see me?”

Asha was in the middle of contemplating whether she should sit on the steps in front of the door and wait until the roof was fixed to see her, but Irina lifted her up before she finished thinking.

“Irina, you did a great job.”

Irina, who was holding her daughter, went inside, while her father Yuriel, came out of the kitchen holding a ladle.

The one who was in charge of cooking today was Yuriel.

The bottom part of the ladle Yuriel used was almost all worn out and would probably not be able to scoop out anything besides the solids in the soup tomorrow.

The old table was shiny, perhaps because it had been used for more than a decade.

Yuriel put three bowls of stew and a coarse loaf on the table with a proud face.

Asha looked down at the clear stew with potato slices that floated to the top.
She could see a few pieces of meat.

It was meat that Arten Juvanne, a harpist invited by my parents the day before yesterday, had brought as a gift to help the needy family.

“Tonight’s dinner is very rich.”

Yuriel sits down and lifts Asha several times, sitting her on his knees.

This is half the reality of the fact that there are only two chairs in the house.
The other half was that they cherished the fact that the child was only ten years old.

“Mr Arten gave us such good meat! Does our princess want to have a try?”

The bowl was small, but it contained the most ingredients.


“Aigoo, you’re eating so well.”

As Asha emptied the whole bowl of stew, the slices of bread also went into her mouth.

Asha tried to give her parents the bread several times, but it didn’t work.

Irina fed a handful of dried fruit from her neighbours to Asha for dessert and looked at Yuriel.

“By the way, Asha will have her spirit ceremony soon.
If it’s only the two of us holding it…”

“Since brother Maxim is helping us, he said not to worry too much.”

“Then Asha will have it with Dimitri…”

“N-No, Dimitri is…”

Yuriel’s words drifted off in a pause.
Irina seemed to get what he was trying to say.

Asha, who had been listening to her parents’ conversation, tilted her head.

“Dad? What’s a spirit ceremony?”

I’ve heard the name Maxim come out from Yuriel’s mouth several times.

He’s a person who often helps our poor family.
Dimitri is probably his son.

‘Thank god he’s not a swindler.’

Until two years ago, there were several occasions where innocent parents were tricked by a merchant speaking some bullshit.

They haven’t been back ever since Asha put laxatives in the new merchant—no, scammer’s stew.

“We were talking about a new friend that is coming to meet our princess.”

“Friends? I don’t need friends.”

Asha tried to stop herself from saying that, but it was too late.

Yuriel and Irina’s eyes started to get moist.

“I, I’m serious, I really don’t need any!”

“Our princess…”

A shabby hut on the outskirts of this rural village.
Compared to those living nearby, Yuriel and Irina, who were both undoubtedly poor but still somehow seemed noble, were like foreign beings.

Their reluctance naturally came down to their only daughter, and even up until she was ten years old, Asha still didn’t have a decent friend of her age.

Yuriel and Irina never gave in to poverty or hardship.

However, occasionally, on days when they thought that they were the reason their daughter felt lonely, they would start to tear up like this.

“Dad, I’m really alright! I really don’t need friends.
Spirit ceremony? I don’t need one either!”

I don’t know what it is, but when I see my parents worry, it seems as if they were about to spend a lot of money.
Asha shook her head hastily.

Yuriel lifted Asha up quickly and rubbed their cheeks together.

“Don’t worry.
We absolutely have to hold the prettiest spirit ceremony for our princess!”

“Then I prefer white dandelions!”

“Then should I make a wreath out of a hundred white dandelions for our princess? And a ring to match it.”

At Asha’s words, Yuriel kissed her on the cheek, saying he would make her a flower crown and a ring.

And then in the next moment, Asha didn’t realise what had happened until the only door in the house had been broken and suddenly fel

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