You know, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Getting hit in the head with a liquor bottle? Yeah, no thanks. If booting my deadbeat dad to the curb is what it takes, then so be it. Who cares about being the 'good' daughter when your skull's not intact?
And honestly, this whole 'rebuilding the family and getting back home' plan? It started with a bit of divine intervention, or so they say about that land. Next thing I know, bam! I became Countess Validus, blessed by the gods and apparently a real estate mogul.
Then the "just trying to make my life easier" snowball started. A little business here, a tiny push towards the Magic Tower there (hey, free research!), pointing out a few flaws in some laws (someone had to!), maybe tossing a sponsorship bone or two (art can be an investment, right?), and... why not, a school? Knowledge is power, and all that jazz.
The thing is, I wasn't exactly expecting a fan club to spring up. My staff acts like I hung the moon. Then this one lord suddenly wants to be my shadow, apparently my word is gospel now, and someone even called me the hope of the nation! And the proposals? Don't even get me started. All I did was try to not get hit in the head again and maybe, just maybe, find a way back to my own couch. Why is everyone acting like I'm some kind of saint? It's beyond me.
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