The dining room of the inn was filled with all types of people; farmers, merchants, nobles. It was a busy time for the inn, Rocío gathered that much by how densely packed and loud it was. The four of them sat at a table while Leticia and Elena’s maid sat elsewhere, out of Rocío's vision.

“I can't believe the storm was that destructive,” Santiago frowned. 

Sir Félix had been explaining how intense the storm was on the east of the bay, and the damage it had left in its wake. He’d gone on about the broken trees, and damaged roads, and even about the devastated farmers.

“His majesty sent me to assess the damages to the farmlands,” Sir Félix explained before he brought the wooden cup to his mouth.

Elena remained sitting straight, with her hands on her lap, almost afraid to touch anything around her. It was then that it dawned upon Rocío that she'd never before been in such an establishment. The other places they'd stayed at on their way to the capital had been at lesser nobles’ residences. Just by her stiffness, Rocío could tell she was highly uncomfortable.

“The damage to the crops was extensive, and even some homes were affected by the winds…”

Santiago sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “What does His Majesty plan on doing?”

Sir Félix shrugged. “I cannot speak for His Majesty, but the only solution is to redistribute the grains from the north and west,” he leaned back on his wooden seat.

“Aren't Zorro and Libelula struggling with their crops already? Wouldn't it cause pushback from the duchies?” Rocío furrowed her brows. “When it comes to precious gems the duchies lucked out with the fall of Emer, but these past two years have already been dry enough to cause a strain, won't this only exacerbate the issue?”

“Rocío’s right, shouldn’t His Majesty look to import more crops?” Santiago added.

“That would certainly be ideal,” Sir Félix agreed. “I don't wish to speak for His Majesty, but to my understanding, he wishes to keep as much precious jewels within the kingdom as possible. He wishes for internal trade.”

Rocío scoffed.

The entire table looked at her, Santiago and Elena in shock, and Félix with what she assumed was curiosity; his facial features were still quite stoic, save for one of his eyebrows that had ever so slightly raised. They stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

“Well,” she cleared her throat and crossed her legs. “What good would trading emeralds within the kingdom do when there is no food to trade?”

Sir Félix raised a dark eyebrow and watched her.

She sighed. “Wouldn't it be more prudent to trade with other kingdoms? Not all the emeralds, obviously,” she added once she saw the scandalous shock in her sister’s face. “But we could trade lumber, or coal, at least with the Kingdom of Sorafina who is much too dependent on agriculture.”

Rocío could've imagined it, but she could've sworn she saw the corner of Sir Félix’s lips tilt upwards and his eyebrows then raised.

“You seem well versed in this topic, my Lady,” he tilted his head.

Rocío frowned. “As a noble, I must at least be aware of the climate in Veridis.”

He nodded. “Indeed,” he mumbled. 

They continued to talk about the king and his plans, with Santiago having much more input this time around while Rocío mostly kept silent. They had finished their meal, which had been a simple stew and warm bread (although Elena did not so much as touch it). It was getting late, which was evident with the change in the inn’s patronage as people had become rowdy and even more loud than they had previously been.

Santiago frowned after a scuffle erupted somewhere in the back of the dining room. “Shall we retire for the night?” He asked.

“Yes,” Elena didn’t miss a beat as she snapped up from her seat. It was evident by the frown on her face that she was more than irritated sitting at the table. She turned, just in time to be met with her maid, who bowed at her courteously and began to lead her away once she had excused herself for the evening.

 Rocío made no effort to stand from her seat. Instead, she took a sip of the wine she had yet to finish.

“Aren't you coming?” Elena raised an eyebrow, looking back at her sister after realizing she wasn't in tow.

“I'll retire in a bit,” she answered.

Santiago nodded and stood. “I'll escort Elena, would it be alright that you wait with Rocío, Félix?” He asked, a soft smile on his face.

Sir Félix nodded. “Of course,” he replied.

Rocío raised an eyebrow as she gave her brother a look. A look that seemed to question his motives.

Santiago's soft and innocent smile didn't waver. He turned around and went off to escort their younger sister.