The Crown Prince of Tianci approaches the fallen form, ceramic cup in his hand filled with a warm serving of a viscous, milky white liquid and stirred in brown sugar.

  “Sit her up, have her drink this.”

  Sophia Elise feels her instincts take over as she weakly reaches for the container, the legionary supporting her back as she takes it into her hand. Beautiful, gold-inlaid ceramic; spiraling designs of flying doves and a forest of trees filled with something earthy, sweet. Brought to her lips, the drink wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest, exotic yet more…

  “Hey Ceramic Demon, you forgot to taste it for poison~” The Guardswoman reminds half-jokingly.

  It stiffens immediately.

  “Don’t joke with the thing.” Zai cuts his subordinate. “It’s my soy-Jiāng anyway. And we’ve been drinking it all morning…”

  “I know, which is why it should be all the more careful.”

  Consciousness comes as nutrition enters the stomach of Sophia Elise, a body coming to life properly as glucose is dumped directly into her bloodstream. Pale blue eyes widen, a full breath into her lungs.

  “As I thought…” The Guardswoman chuckles, motioning towards Zai for the second part of this curative treatment. “Too many girl dinners.”

  “Girl dinners?” The Crown Prince narrows his eyes.

  “Don’t ask, just give me the thing.”

  And from his other hand, Zai takes a long, oil soaked paper bag and gives it to his wife.

  THERE GIRL, WAKE UP.

  This time the Impericutta Legionary does take an experimental bite of the food item before allowing it to be fed to its charge, and slowly the Fourth Princess of the Ensolian Imperium takes the thing into her grasp.

  Soft and doughy; beautiful… but still missing a critical portion of what was to be a true pastry of…

  She takes a bite of the deep fried stick of dough.

  It's not sugary, or even capable of reaching to the divine levels that were required to truly revive her. This simple deep-fried stick of water, milk, eggs and flour coated in a small dusting of salt was something akin to her life’s one true love, but this cheap… replication, this soulless husk of fried bread was nothing. Just barely enough to satiate this growing knot in her heart of loneliness and pain, just barely enough to have her jump from the sofa with the fifth bite.

  A body revived, its flesh fulfilled but soul left hungry. And a sudden realization brought before the Fourth Princess, of a primordial terror older than even the creation of the ancient ones.

  From caves, fields, and concrete skyscrapers on an eden far, far away from this place; the utterly unknowable ancestors of this people reached up towards their alien starscape and wished for something, even if they didn’t know it yet…

  DONUTS.

  Wow, a hundred twenty hours without eating a single donut. The internal monologue whistles to Sophia. This has got to be a new personal record…

  Seven days.

  Seven days without donuts, and already she was falling apart.

  Where was that action plan of ours? Part of her central consciousness council attempts to remember, digging through the monumental paperwork trail. Bed, donut and romance novels?! We had a plan…

  That’s not a plan you imbeciles, that's a set of goals. The internal monologue screams back.

  The entire council is thrown into chaos at this revelation, at this accusation towards their competence. A-Absurd, that is a plan! How could you…

  Alright, then how pray tell the soul, are we supposed to get our hands on a real, ensolian donut out here. The internal monologue stands in silence right at the foot of the council, pointing towards each like a king towards condemned political enemies. Where shall we find a donut here in Port Azuru?! We are thousands of miles away from Central Ensolia and anything remotely Imperial. Does anyone have even the slightest idea on how to find a single, perfectly fried glazed donut out here?! Anyone?!

  Shamed, they have no answer.

  Sophia actually eats breakfast for once, consuming the portions of rice congee with preserved cucumbers, soy milk sweetened with sugar, and several sticks of what the Tiancin falsely called a ‘donut.’ Deep fried to deliciousness for sure, but still missing the critical shape, mass, texture, and most importantly: taste. Savory instead of sweet, meant more as an appetizer than a true closer for dessert.

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  Goddess she really was hungry, starving even.

  Shoveling the food into her mouth with impeccable manners, a perfect posture and grace somewhat ruined by the simple fact that this Princess was literally taking huge spoonfuls of porridge, gulps of soy milk, and bites deep fried dough nearly simultaneously into her maw like a bear to a fresh carcass.

  One of the thought processes continues to brainstorm. We can cook donuts couldn’t we? It should be simple enough?

  Simple? Like what happened earlier this week? Another rolls its eyes. We couldn’t even boil water without having it catch fire. The cerebellum should’ve discarded you like an intrusive thought you idiot!

  What?!

  You know what I said! The other takes a brick of memory, hurling it wildly at the thought process across the council chamber. It was your fault! You and your stupid arrogance thought we could cook! You humiliated us!

  Me?! The accused is flabbergasted, stuttering slightly. You were the one that headed that disastrous first date with Zai!

  It went there, dredging social death from the most forbidden recesses of humiliation and shame. You mindless worm, I’ll beat you to the cord!

  ENOUGH! One screams out, loud enough for even Sophia to almost jump in her seat. You’re all pathetic! Reduced to this jumbling mess because of donut withdrawal?! We need to get it together, NOW!

  She has an idea, a thought bubbling to the surface of her mind as she scoops up the final bits of congee from the bottom of her bowl. Enough of a justification, the realization given to her is as simple as can be given their current circumstances.

  Sophia turns to the table suddenly, her cold tone meant more as an order than anything else. “I desire to go to town today.”

  They all stare at her.

  From the Impericutta legionary behind its featureless faceplate, the Guardswoman with a wide open mouth, and even Zai Tianci who pauses his own small sip of soymilk from his cup. They all stare in silence, for a longer period of time than was perhaps socially acceptable.

  “To Port Azuru?” The Guardswoman, inspired by this extremely royal display of haughty authority, speaks with some level of respect towards the Imperial Heir. “Today?”

  “Yes.” She continues, a straight posture unmoving despite her physiological deterioration. “I believe it would be…”

  Don’t lie. The thought processes hiss, now very much so back in their chairs. If you make any more misunderstandings you’ll ruin yourself. Say it outright that you’re feeling a little homesick, and you want some real donuts. Maybe brush it up with a ‘wanting some fresh air’ or even…

  “... good to understand some Tiancin culture.” Sophia lies straight to their faces. “Especially if this living arrangement is to be indefinite.”

  Both the Impericutta and Guardswoman take a moment to stare at one another, with Zai of all people being the first objection. “The Head Caretaker of the house will be here today. Since he is in charge of most of the home affairs, I think we should all be present…”

  “Can you not handle a simple staffing issue in this household?” Sophia interrupts her own husband with a harsh snap.

  Silence falls—among the Guards, the Crown Prince, and even within Sophia herself.

  Zai exhales slowly, setting his cup down with deliberate care. “This isn’t just a ‘staffing issue.’” His voice is composed, but there’s a faint edge beneath it. “This household is built on trust and structure. The Caretaker isn’t just some servant. They have and will oversee everything—supplies, scheduling, communication. They need to understand who we are, how we live—”

  “Oh, yes, how we live.” Sophia interrupts dismissively, any semblance of diplomacy ripped away by pure, near-terminal donut withdrawal. “How exactly do we live? Just the four of us? Out here in this middle of nowhere town?!”

  Zai’s expression remains as stoic as possible. “You agreed to this arrangement.”

  “Did I?” Her words are smooth, but sharp enough to cut through ceramic armor. “If I recall correctly, we were given this arrangement. A decision made without our consent, and now you’re telling me I must be shackled to this household’s mundane affairs?”

  “This is not about shackles.” Zai’s hands remain folded on the table. “This is about responsibility.”

  Sophia speaks with utter authority. “Then be responsible and handle it.”

  There’s a tightness that appears on Zai’s jaw. This Prince has handled the archetypes before—the serene, the patient, the cunning, the deliberate—but this? The smallest flicker of frustration holds beneath his usually longing gaze.

  So the Crown Prince of Tianci takes a slow breath, composes himself, and chooses his next words with care. “If you want to go to town, then go.” His voice is level, controlled, but there’s something pointed in it now. “But don’t pretend it’s for some noble reason.”

  “And what do you mean by that?”

  The Prince pins her with the next argument. “If you want to go home, back to Ensolia, then just say it.”

  There is no intrigue for the Imperium, no need for it from a land of Legions and Aerostatics; the Fourth Princess simply tells it straight from a very, very angsty part of her soul. “And if I do, the Dominion will regret it.”

  The Impericutta remains still, silent as ever. While the Guardswoman holds her breath, witnessing this slow-moving diplomatic train crash.

  Oh Goddess why the HELL did you just say that?! They all turn towards the interloper, at the impulsive speech center who stands dumbly in the midst of the chamber. You just threatened an entire nation.

  The internal monologue doesn’t even express any emotion, an ice cold rage instead put to this next order backed by an incredible unanimous vote by the sitting council. Guards, crush their skull.

  “I apologize.” Sophia guides, biting her tongue this time in an attempt at maintaining some sense of coherence. “Perhaps I’m just feeling a little… locked in. It’s been difficult transitioning to this new environment.”

  There’s a slight hint of honesty there, and a large, sobering dose of her own homesickness as well. Sophia realizes, in just a single thought, how much she *really* missed her own bed, her own room, and her own family.

  The Guardswoman smiles at the girl who sits in that chair, seeing right through that thin veil of supposed nobleness. “I think Zai and the Ceramic Demon can handle whatever the old Caretaker has in store. I’ll go with Sophia out to town today.”

  It's a graceful exit, a quiet mercy; tension easing just slightly from Sophia’s shoulders.

  And here was her best shot at getting some donuts…

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