The heavy doors of the Mason Bedchamber were tightly closed. The maids, who were usually light-footed and agile, now stood trembling on both sides of the long corridor, their gazes filled with a certain kind of awe.
Because from behind those heavy door panels, the sounds of labor, full of life and utterly unsuited to this place, were drifting out.
"Wu... I was really wrong. Your Majesty, I will never dare to pretend to be an Expression Analysis Grandmaster in front of you again."
Irene knelt on the edge of the carpet, wanting to cry but lacking tears. Holding a soft cloth soaked in cleaning agent, she was wiping the legs of that mahogany long table, inch by inch. Her pink twin-tails, which were always full of vitality, now drooped like the ears of a wilted rabbit, swaying feebly with her wiping movements.
On the other side, Saint Daphne, originally as pure as morning dew, was holding a wooden bucket filled with clear water, her face full of grievance. She had finally come to her senses just now. In the moment danger descended, this Miss Inventor actually didn't even think before planning to leave her alone to face the Tyrant's wrath.
"Miss Irene..." Daphne struggled to wring out the rag, staring at the back of Irene's head with the extremely resentful eyes of someone who had been betrayed. "When you ran just now, what were you thinking in your head?"
"Aiya, th-that was survival instinct!" Irene didn't turn her head, her wiping speed increasing a few notches. "Besides, you are the Saint personally appointed by Your Majesty; how could Your Majesty bear to punish you heavily? Look, aren't we just experiencing labor here right now!"
Just as the two big shots were wearing out their lips over a few floorboards, the maids guarding outside began to whisper through the slightly open crack in the door.
"Heavens, why are the Lord Inventor and Lord Saint personally cleaning?"
"Is that cleaning? That is Her Majesty personally teaching the etiquette of humility! The Chief Inventor and Lord Saint are actually purifying their souls by sweeping away dust. Your Majesty must feel that they have been slightly impetuous recently due to the harvest and the success of the toothbrushes, so she is personally supervising them to return to their original intentions."
"That's right. Lord Daphne, that bucket of water in her hand clearly symbolizes the Holy Water that washes away all of Mason's shadows! And Lord Irene wiping the table legs symbolizes that infrastructure construction must lay a solid foundation from the smallest details. Your Majesty sits there without saying a word, yet she reshapes the Divinehood of the two adults in such a silent and nourishing way... It's too great!"
Sitting on the high seat with fresh tea at hand, Sophia fell into deep thought as she listened to the faint sounds of admiration coming from outside.
Is Mason's reading comprehension education a bit off track?
Although she really wanted to immediately upgrade the knowledge and cognition of these people, it was better not to think about those things while the basic issues of food and clothing remained unsolved. Sophia leaned back lazily, looking at Irene's small face, which had turned rosy from scrubbing the floor so hard, and Daphne's clumsy but diligent movements. The little displeasure in her heart from being gossiped about earlier had long since vanished.
"The cabinet over there also needs wiping," Sophia spoke coolly, her slender finger pointing to the highest part of the bookshelf. "Irene, I see you jump quite high usually; that shouldn't be difficult for you."
"As you command, Your Majesty..." Irene wailed, accepting her fate as she climbed up the high ladder.
"And Daphne." Sophia turned her head to look at the somewhat dazed Saint, her voice softening a bit. "Wipe the water stains on the floor dry; don't let others who come in later slip and fall."
"Yes! Your Majesty!"
Daphne instantly straightened her spine. Although she felt it was hard work, as soon as she thought that she was cleaning the Royal Residence for Her Majesty, that little bit of resentment in her heart was actually filled by an inexplicable sense of honor. Since it is Her Majesty's order, then this is definitely not a punishment, but a... test of intimacy.
Daphne mentally supplemented the situation like this, and the force of her wiping became even greater.
Sophia, who had just leaned back against the chair, suddenly felt that these people from the Magical Girl world were truly high-energy individuals. Their essence and spirit were full, as if inexhaustible. Even if they were tired, they could cheer up very quickly.
When the last rays of the setting sun slanted into the Bedchamber, the room was bright enough to reflect human silhouettes. Irene and Daphne sat paralyzed together, leaning against the long table that had just been wiped until it sparkled.
Sophia walked down from the high seat, looking at the two young girls who, although dirty-faced, had eyes that were much clearer.
"Alright, since the cleaning is done, go wash up." Sophia took two hot towels from Willow and, unexpectedly, handed them to the two personally. "Since you know how to analyze This Queen's expression, then do more practical work in the future, and guess less about the distance of the corners of my mouth behind This Queen's back."
Irene took the towel and covered her face, her voice sounding muffled: "Wu... Thank you, Your Majesty. I will definitely study toothpaste more and your facial muscles less in the future."
Daphne, on the other hand, wiped the sweat from her forehead somewhat happily and whispered, "Your Majesty, if you want to smile, Daphne is willing to try for you at any time on how to make your facial muscles more natural!"
Sophia: "..."
These two fellows were indeed hopeless.
In the Kingdom of Leighton, during winter, even as a commercial hub on the plains, the city was shrouded in a shrinking greyness. The muddy streets were frozen into bumpy hard blocks, and the air was mixed with the smell of furnace ash and the stench of livestock. Even in the bustling trade district, the merchants coming and going mostly shrank their necks and walked hurriedly.
However, when the caravan flying the Black Rose banner slowly drove into the Mason Office, the noise of the entire street seemed to be pressed with a mute button in an instant.
The trade stronghold that Sophia had previously approved in Leighton through diplomatic means now appeared out of place in this messy market area. When Delilah, riding the warhorse Gale, stopped in front of the office, the onlookers—Leighton merchants—widened their eyes.
In this kind of harsh winter weather, the Mason people actually came again? Who knows what rare gadgets they brought this time.
"Lord Delilah, the goods have been verified. The perfume and soap have entered the warehouse, and the remaining three thousand toothbrushes are also well preserved."
Vasha stepped down from the carriage. She was wearing a well-tailored winter coat, her long hair neatly coiled behind her head, appearing introverted and sharp. She bore a twenty to thirty percent resemblance to Daphne in looks, but her temperament was vastly different. She bowed slightly to Delilah, her tone polite yet distant, revealing the rigor of handling official business.
Regardless of which relationship was considered, Delilah counted as Vasha's superior. Unless she brought out the title of Princess of Orr, which could suppress Delilah a bit. But that was not what Vasha wanted to do.
Delilah remained seated on the warhorse. Her pale red pupils coldly scanned the surroundings, her hand constantly resting on the hilt of her longsword.
"Hard work. I will arrange for guards to rotate on twenty-four-hour shifts." Delilah's voice was cold, without any superfluous pleasantries. "Before that, according to Your Majesty's instructions, send the gifts into the Palace first."
Soon, two guards wearing neat Mason military uniforms carried red mahogany brocade boxes toward the Royal Court of Leighton.
When the King and Queen of Leighton opened the box carved with the Black Rose inside their Bedchamber, the etiquette officers of the entire Royal Court fell into a long silence.
"This brush... the horse tail hair can actually be trimmed so neatly? The polishing of this wooden handle is simply like some kind of work of art. For Queen Sophia to send this object, she is clearly telling us that while the nations of the plains are struggling for survival in winter, Mason has already begun to manage the breathing of its citizens with refinement. This is not just a gift; this is defining what noble civilization is!"
Even the King of Leighton, who had witnessed Sophia's god-like nature, hadn't expected that during a period like winter, when subjects needed to scrimp and save just to get by, Mason would still have the mood to research things for brushing teeth.
Compared to the King's surprise, the Queen was mostly pleasantly surprised. Although she couldn't accept using horse hair to clean her teeth for a moment, if it was ordered to be made by that knowledgeable, wise, brave, and unparalleled Sophia, then it must be a good thing! After all, the previous shampoo and soap had elevated the exquisiteness of her hair quality and skin by a level.
Half an hour later, the Mason trade point officially opened.
Vasha did not shout loudly like ordinary merchants. She just stood quietly behind the pile of neatly stacked toothbrush boxes bearing the dark pattern of the Black Rose. The calmness and nobility on her body, nurtured by royal education, were themselves the best signboard.
"Gentlemen, the symbol of civilization begins with the cleanliness of oneself."
Vasha reached out and picked up a toothbrush, elegantly displaying it to the onlookers and merchants.
"This is the brand-new etiquette Her Majesty Sophia is promoting in Mason: The Morning Brush. It can make your teeth crystalline like white porcelain, and can even bring the freshness of mint to your breath."
"Who is this person? So beautiful, so elegant, her temperament is just like a Princess."
"Wait, this person seems to be the Princess, right? Although Orr blocked the news, the Princess of Orr indeed seems to have run to Mason."
"Went to Mason for a marriage alliance? With Her Majesty Sophia?"
"Should I buy one to try? But brushing teeth with horse hair, no matter how I think about it, is ridiculous, right?"
"I don't know, forget it. Even that Princess Vasha of the Kingdom of Orr has been reduced to an administrative officer for Mason; this is too scary."
"Gentlemen."
Vasha's voice was not loud, but it carried a clarity that penetrated the cold wind, instantly suppressing all the noise.
"Have you ever thought about why Mason's warriors can still maintain such high morale in the wind and snow? Why does our Queen Majesty, even in the harshest winter, carry a pure fragrance like early spring mint in her speech?"
The crowd gradually quieted down, countless curious and eager eyes staring dead at the small wooden handle in her hand.
Vasha revealed a seemingly absent, inducing smile and continued: "Because in Mason, we do not believe the morning oral cavity should be a refuge for bitterness and staleness. Are you still enduring the pain of willow twigs piercing your gums? Are you still feeling ashamed of the lingering odor in your breath?"
"Look at this brush. Every single horse tail hair on this has been washed with Holy Light Potion. The Black Rose logo on this wooden handle is the mark of civilization personally bestowed by Her Majesty Sophia. This is not just a tool; it is a dignity, an invitation letter to that world without filth, only fragrance."
"Imagine, when you use it with a nice-smelling cleaning agent or some salt, brushing away the weariness of the whole body in the first ray of sunshine in the morning. When you whisper with your sweetheart, or are negotiating business worth thousands of gold coins, that cleanliness and confidence from the inside out... Is this not worth you going crazy for?"
Vasha's words were like a magnificent hypnosis; every word accurately hit the deepest vanity and yearning in the hearts of these people who rolled in the mud.
"Makes so much sense. Willow twigs prick the mouth and aren't easy to brush clean with; I want one to try."
"I want ten! No, twenty! All the leaders of my caravan must be equipped with one!"
A merchant draped in heavy fur waved the money bag in his hand, acting as if crazy.
"Don't push! I want one too! This is the same style as the Queen! Even if I don't eat meat, I must buy it for my wife!"
Vasha looked at the fanatical crowd before her that was almost losing control, a trace of expected indifference flashing through her eyes. She tilted her head slightly, signaling Delilah to strengthen security, then elegantly took half a step back, leaving the stage to those Mason guards whose hands were going soft from counting money.
In that moment, Vasha in the eyes of the Leighton people was no longer an ordinary Princess, but a Civilization Envoy sent to the mortal world by Queen Sophia.
"No matter how many gold coins, I must buy one! How is Mason so ahead of its time? If I don't use this brush, I'll be too embarrassed to go to Mason to do business after spring starts next year; I would appear like an uneducated barbarian!"
In just two hours, several thousand toothbrushes were snatched up completely. The sound of gold coins hitting wooden chests seemed exceptionally melodious in the winter wind.
Night fell, and the interior of the Leighton office was brightly lit.
Vasha was lowering her head to organize today's accounts; due to the long duration of paperwork, her fingers appeared somewhat stiff. At this time, Delilah pushed the door open and entered, her body still carrying the chill from outside.
"Accounts finished?"
Delilah stood three steps away from the desk, her tone hard, without a trace of intimacy.
"Yes, Lord Delilah." Vasha stopped the graphite pencil in her hand, looking up politely. "The profit exceeded Her Majesty's expectations. The Leighton people's thirst for civilization is crazier than we imagined."
"That is Her Majesty's wisdom," Delilah responded briefly. She glanced at Vasha, and after confirming the other party hadn't pulled any small moves privately, she turned to leave.
"Her Majesty said you are a smart person. As long as you work wholeheartedly for Mason, I am responsible for your safety. But if there is half a bit of betrayal..."
"Lord Delilah worries too much." Vasha's expression remained polite and calm. "I have seen Her Majesty's thunder, and also tasted Her Majesty's warmth. The current me only wants to be a qualified accountant under Her Majesty's Order. After all, apart from Her Majesty's side, this world does not have any warm places, does it?"
Delilah's footsteps paused slightly. She didn't turn back, only letting out a cold snort before stepping into the dark corridor.
They were both loyal to the same person. But in their eyes, the other was just a colleague executing a mission together, a chess piece with a different function on Her Majesty's chessboard, and nothing more.
That night, some nobles of the Kingdom of Leighton abandoned the bitter willow twigs one after another. With complex expressions, they looked at the horse hair toothbrushes in their hands, dipped them in a little coarse salt, and closed their eyes to brush.
A few minutes later, they felt the lightness in their mouths and were frantically shocked. Rubbing the horse tail hairbrushes in their hands, the eyes looking toward the North again were filled with awe.
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