Dinner at the estate had once been an eerie concept—cold tables, chairs that whispered when you touched them, and a kitchen full of things you didn't want to identify.

Now?

Now it was a full-blown banquet. A dozen tables had been dragged together into one massive serpentine curve that ran the length of the ballroom. Platters of steaming food were scattered like trophies across them, dishes ranging from roasted root beasts to imported sky-lemons and fireberry pies. Somewhere along the way, D.D. had made sure the honey glazed everything, while Red made cocktails glow.

V sat at my right, looking mildly shell-shocked. His spoon hovered over his soup like he was trying to divine the future in its ripples. "Okay," he said slowly. "So just to clarify—there are fourteen of you. You, your parents, and thirteen siblings. All with Artes. All… strange."

"Eccentric," I corrected, which sounded better than "neon-glowing bomb jugglers and bee-whispering part-time knights."

Ten sat across from me, her ankles still wrapped in chain, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I've been in holding cells more peaceful than this," she muttered, eyeing Jester, who had climbed up on a chair and was now balancing three desserts while balancing on one foot. "They keep inviting me to 'competitive juggling.' That's not even a real phrase."

"You'd lose anyway," Jester called sweetly from down the table. "No shame in it, sugar-chain!"

"I will crush her," Ten replied, deadpan.

Fractal, in her more human guise, was curled beside Marybelle and Katarina, delightfully discussing something incomprehensible about stained glass techniques and dreaming in color. She radiated the kind of joy only Fractal could—a strange, woven calm in the middle of a family hurricane. Her food glowed slightly. No one questioned it.

Cordelia sat beside V. She was sipping her tea like it was wine and already three glasses deep in disdain. Her flower-woven crown shifted slightly as her mind did its calculations. She didn't blink when William flirted with a waiter and Gabby at the same time. She didn't blink when D.D. offered her an edible honey blade. She didn't blink when Juliet's clones all passed her different dishes in sync.

Instead, she looked to V and Ten, gave the smallest of sighs, and answered their unspoken question before they could ask it again.

"No," she said, flatly. "They are not remotely sane."

Ten let out a low breath, like that confirmed something important. "I knew it."

V just laughed, for real this time, quietly. "Good. Because sane people are boring. But I'm not calling anyone 'uncle' unless they give me a house."

Uncle Rodrick, three chairs down, leaned over. "Would you prefer a small vineyard or a salt mine?"

V choked on his drink.

Juliet was smiling proudly as she moved through the room, touching shoulders, refilling plates, praising posture. She gave Fractal a kiss on the forehead, called Cordelia "sensible," and clapped Ten on the back so hard her plate shifted.

"This," Juliet said, turning to me, "is the best mess you've made, my little rabbit."

I didn't know if she meant the estate, the friends I'd gathered, or just everything in between.

Maybe all of it.

"Pass the sky-lemons," I mumbled, a little overwhelmed.

"Not until you tell us what you plan to do with the upstairs observatory," D.D called. "I'm thinking of a distillation lab."

"It's not a distillation lab!" Marybelle snapped. "It's clearly meant for stargazing and divination! Honestly!"

"Why not both?" Fractal offered, politely, and somehow that was the spark that started a thirty-minute family argument over telescopes versus tinctures.

I leaned back, took a bite of something honeyed, and caught V and Ten watching the storm of my family spin around them with a mix of awe and mortal terror.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks…

I laughed.

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And I didn't feel alone in it.

***

The jovial joking tone, however, couldn't last forever. My father cleared his throat, and his gaze locked on me, serious now.

Everyone else at the table fell silent, waiting for my father to voice his concern.

"So, you have territory in the Queendom of Bast. Have you decided how you are going to use it?" he asked, his tone authoritative.

I nodded, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.

"Sheep Husbandry," I said, my voice firm.

The room fell quiet. Most of my siblings stared at me, confusion or surprise painting their faces. D.D. was the only one who nodded approvingly as if this was the most logical choice. Cordelia, ever unflappable, continued sipping her tea, while V, Fractal, and Ten seemed entirely unfazed by the answer. But the rest were less convinced.

"You know nothing about caring for sheep," my father said, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. "I hope you're not planning to make this your life's work. Surely there are other ways to—"

"I do know," I interrupted confidently, "And I'm not starting without a plan."

My father looked me up and down, skeptical.

Acquire [Sheep Husbandry] level one for 300 FP? Acquire [Shearing] level one for 100 FP? Confirm

I smiled. "I've done my research. Using my Familiarity Points (FP), I've acquired the necessary skills to start up a sheep farm. 300 FP went into [Sheep Husbandry] level one, and another 100 into [Shearing] to make sure I can manage wool production efficiently."

A few of my siblings raised an eyebrow at the mention of FP, but I didn't give them a chance to interrupt. "I've researched the best breeds for Bast's unique environment. It's not just about producing wool and meat; it's about sustainability, adaptability, and quality."

I could see my father still wasn't entirely convinced, so I pressed on. "First, for Bast's semi-arid, brushland environment, I'm planning on using Gritcoat Sheep. These hardy creatures are perfect for the warm to hot summers and the mild to harsh winters. Their wool is dense but breathable, perfect for the fluctuating temperatures of the region, and they're resilient against drought, needing little water to thrive. They're also excellent foragers, able to graze on scrubland and the sparse vegetation."

My father tilted his head slightly, giving me a sign that he was listening but still dubious.

"Second, I'll bring in the Mirefold Sheep, a breed native to Marr's climate—cooler with humid, harsh winters. They're well-suited to colder climates, but their wool is light and insulating, allowing them to adapt to milder conditions as well. These sheep are prized for their high-quality wool, which has a smooth, silken texture. Their fleece is particularly sought after by textile merchants in urban centers like Marr. I'll use them to produce fine wool and to breed for a sturdier, multi-purpose flock."

I paused, letting my words settle before adding the final breed. "Lastly, I'll import a more luxury breed: the Silverveil Sheep. These sheep are rare, prized for their extremely soft and lustrous wool that shimmers like silver. Their fleece is highly sought after for high-end clothing and accessories, and I plan to focus on producing the finest quality possible. The Silverveil Sheep will be kept in a climate-controlled area, carefully managed to keep their wool pristine. While they won't be the bread and butter of my flock, they'll serve as a profitable side project and a way to establish a name in the textile industry."

I looked around the table, gauging my family's reactions. My father was quiet now, his skeptical expression replaced with a hint of curiosity.

"You've thought this through more than I expected," he said finally, conceding. "But... how exactly do you plan on managing all this?"

I grinned. "I'll start small and scale up. The Gritcoat Sheep will make up the majority of the flock, and their wool will be used for everyday clothing and blankets. The Mirefold Sheep will be bred for both wool and meat, supplying the local market. And the Silverveil Sheep will be a specialty product, used for more luxurious garments, carpets, and other high-end items."

D.D. gave a nod of approval. "Sounds like you've got a good mix of practicality and luxury. I'd say it's worth a try."

"I'll also need proper infrastructure," I added. "Shelters for the sheep during the colder months, especially for the Mirefold Sheep and Silverveil Sheep, who are less tolerant of the harsher winters. I plan to build sturdy, thatched-roof barns that will keep them protected but still allow for good ventilation."

V, ever the practical one, asked, "And the grazing? How do you plan to keep them from overgrazing the land?"

"Rotation is key," I replied. "I'll create multiple grazing zones and rotate the flock regularly to ensure the soil remains healthy. Over time, I'll also improve the land's fertility by adding natural compost and ensuring the grass can regrow properly."

Cordelia, who had been quiet up until now, placed her teacup down and spoke for the first time. "Isn't it a bit... ambitious for you, Alexander?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. But I've got a plan, and I think it's worth pursuing."

"Well," she said with a smirk, "if you can manage to keep the Silverveil Sheep's wool pristine without them getting dirty or tangled, I'll be impressed."

Fractal fluttered her wings, her shimmering feathers catching the light as she spoke with her usual ethereal calm. "They are quite lovely. The Silverveil Sheep... they would be a thing of beauty to see. But do take care of the Gritcoats. Their wool, though not as fine, is much more practical and will keep you going through the leaner seasons."

"Thanks for the advice," I said with a chuckle. "And I'll make sure the Gritcoat Sheep are well taken care of. They'll be the backbone of the farm."

My father sighed but smiled, albeit reluctantly. "Well, I can't say I'm entirely convinced, but if you're this committed, I suppose there's no stopping you."

I felt a rush of relief, and my siblings began to relax, too. It was far from a full endorsement, but it was progress. At least they were starting to see that I wasn't diving into this blindly.

"I've got this," I said with confidence. "It's going to take time, but I'll build it up, one sheep at a time."

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