The Girl Who Fell from the Polar Star

“Of course you do.
Well, that’s nice.”

This was an important step in Beck’s journey of personal growth.
He’d finally internalized the old adage that “he who does not work shall not eat,” essentially earning his right to food.
Stella was so excited that she almost started clapping.
But no, she mustn’t.
He’d only get cocky and ruin the moment.

“Stella,” Varrell said.
“What do you intend to do with that information?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If I can’t rely on my body, I must rely on my head.
And to make the right decisions, I need to be well informed.” Stella sighed.
“I sure wish I had a capable spy on my side.”

‘What about lil’ old me, eh?’

“You can watch people from the sky, which is great, but I’d need more than that to pry into people’s affairs.
Don’t worry, though.
You’ll have your moment to shine.”

‘I’m useless .
.
.’

“Do you think this war is inevitable?” Varrell asked.

“Probably,” Stella said.
“There is one thing, though.
The Empire has made its plans to attack this town painfully clear.
I wonder if there’s some deeper reason behind that.”

“You think it might be a bluff?”

“Maybe.
It could be a ploy to draw our attention from the real objective.
Anyway, not my problem.
That’s for the generals and officers of the Church’s army to figure out.”

Maybe the Empire intended to attack somewhere else instead.
Or maybe the intention was to make people think that way.
Either way, the Astral Church had too many locations to defend, and too few soldiers to properly man the expansive front lines.
The fact that it hadn’t managed to isolate and obliterate the enemy despite having the advantage of the terrain meant that it was suffering a lack of troops.
Stella predicted that the Empire would maintain the upper hand—at least until both sides had become equally strained.

“You could probably become a strategist in one of those armies,” Varrell said after Stella had finished explaining her thoughts to him.
“I could tell my brother to find you a place, if you want.”

Varrell’s expression made it hard to tell if he was joking.
Stella had a terrible feeling that he was not.

“Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth,” Stella said.
“And anyway, they wouldn’t take someone who doesn’t believe in their god.
I would like to see the Pope, though.”

Stella longed to see the face of the man relaying the words of this so-called “Astral God.” Given the chance, she would ask him about the Starspire and the Starsphere, those two prohibitively expensive undertakings which had ultimately come crashing to the ground.
She didn’t have any memories from that time, and the accounts given by history books could hardly be trusted.
The Pope, though .
.
.
he would know everything.

“You, meeting with the Pope?” Varrell said incredulously.
“You wouldn’t last five minutes before being labeled a heretic.
And I’d probably get executed just for being with you.”

“I suppose you’re right, though I’m not too keen on serving the Empire either.
I hate being ordered around.”

Stella hated being controlled to the same extent that she hated boredom and stagnation.
She didn’t revel in violence, but neither did she shy away from it when her freedom was at stake.
All she wanted was a happy, eventful life on her own terms.

“Trust me, I can definitely tell,” Varrell said, nodding earnestly.
“You’ve got to be the most unrestrained person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks, but that sounds an awful lot like you’re calling me selfish.”

“U-Uhm, I, I didn’t mean it like—”

‘No, yer right! Totally right! Master is as selfish as they come, eh!’

“I agree with the bird!” Typica said.
“She’s the most unruly, domineering person I’ve ever met!”

Typica, you too? Stella was about to say something in her own defense when she realized that she didn’t have to.
“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked instead.
“I’m entitled to live my life as I see fit.”

“I mean, you are, but—”

“Exactly.”

“In your case, Stella,” Typica said with a solemn expression, “I can’t help thinking that ‘living life as you see fit’ is synonymous with ‘becoming empress of the known world within twenty years.’ ”

Stella burst into laughter.
“You’re not serious, are you?”

“I am.
You could easily coax your way into some wealthy landowner’s household and slowly work your schemes from there.
Eventually, you would be at the very top.”

“Things are never that simple.
If that does happen, though, I promise to name you head of my honor guard.
Varrell can be a minister or something.
Beck, you’ll be my butler.”

“R-Really?!” Beck exclaimed.

“Make me proud, oh dear Beck.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

He was beaming, the poor simpleton.
Stella grinned creepily at her toy.

“You should really stop playing with men like that,” Varrell said.
“I mean it.”

“Is that something you should say to a ten-year-old girl?” Stella asked.

“I need to say it while you’re still young,” Varrell said with a knowing expression.
“Who knows how many victims you’ll make if you’re allowed to grow up like this.”

Clever silently nodded in agreement.

Stella smirked.
“What? Am I not allowed to experience love?”

‘Master, experiencing love? Fat chance of that, eh, unless yer partner is the King of the Underworld.
Bet you’d ’oneymoon in the apocalypse— Gah!’ Clever suddenly passed out frothing at the mouth.
Maybe he’d been dabbling in drugs while Stella wasn’t looking.

“If I ever saw you talking about love, I’d assume you were sick,” Varrell said.
“I can picture you boasting about all the men you’ve led to ruin, though.
Which is terrifying.” He shivered.

“Are you always this rude?”

“You’ve only just noticed?” Typica said.
“Brother has been rude for as long as I can remember.”

“You’ve got to be the two people least qualified to call me rude,” Varrell said, then poured himself a glass of drink and downed it in one go.

Tomorrow was finally Rest Day.
This one would be not only a much-needed respite from the havoc of daily life but also the date of the first party to be thrown at Glenn’s General Store.

An opportunity to get to know people more intimately? Count me in.
I’ve never been so excited about an event before.

Stella’s heart fluttered in anticipation as she talked to Typica about tomorrow’s party.
Shortly after, Rye, Marie, and Sally entered, and Varrell and Beck were driven out.
Apparently, a “girls’ meeting” was taking place.
Stella didn’t quite get it, but she gave her approval anyway.