Gynia stepped onto the balcony and saw Lanche slumped over the railing like a slacker with no ambition.

"Lanchie~" she cooed, walking over to press down on his head and ruffle his hair.

"Sister Gynia!" Lanche exclaimed with surprise, turning to lunge at her.

Sadly, he didn’t make it.

Gynia held his head down, smiling sweetly. "You little flirt. You’re married now—still trying to get fresh with your sister?"

"I’m just excited! I haven’t seen you in ages," Lanche said innocently, acting like a naive fifteen-year-old.

Gynia pursed her lips. "I know exactly what you’re like."

"Now you’ve got such a beautiful wife, much prettier than me," she added with a smile.

"Is she really that pretty?" Lanche asked, puzzled. "I think Sister Gynia is way prettier."

"Hmph, you little flirt. Your mouth’s still so smooth," Gynia snorted lightly.

"I’m telling the truth!" Lanche argued earnestly.

Gynia didn’t comment, but a satisfied smile curled her lips. To be fair, she was stunning—more mature than Kestia, with a great figure.

She lightly tossed her long hair, leaning on the railing. "I heard you married into another family. I thought you’d end up with some fat lady—serves you right."

"Disappointed?" Lanche chuckled.

"Yeah, terribly disappointed," Gynia sighed. "You look so relaxed. Living the dream, huh? Doing nothing all day with a gorgeous wife… Hey, how’s this world so unfair?" She stared at him seriously.

Lanche sighed lightly, his face melancholic. "Young as you are, you don’t know yet—all gifts of fate come with a hidden price tag."

Gynia rolled her eyes and snorted unhappily. "Still the same. A good-for-nothing with no talent or drive, yet you spout big words to sweet-talk people."

Lanche chuckled and scratched his head. "Thanks for the compliment."

"Compliment my foot!" Gynia angrily tapped his head.

Lanche didn’t dodge, wincing as he held his head.

Gynia leaned on the railing, sighing dejectedly. "You never even attended the academy. Do you know how famous you are at our Noble Academy? People are green with envy every day. Watch your back out there, you bastard—even wear a helmet when fishing!"

"Aw, no need to be so jealous," Lanche consoled.

"It’s just a good-for-nothing fifteen-year-old with no inheritance, married into another noble house. So common. My wife’s just prettier, my family richer," he shrugged casually.

Gynia gazed darkly at him, itching to eliminate him on behalf of the noble masses. Marrying into families was routine—nobles married daughters out or sons in, no moral shame. That’s why Lanche was envied. At the Noble Academy, most students were younger sons—second, fifth, thirteenth—with zero inheritance. Their futures depended on themselves. The lucky became knights; the rest ended up as mercenaries like commoners. Most noble youths craved elegant lives. Marrying into a family with inheritance rights? Ideal. Lanche, whose wife’s family begged for him? Pure envy.

"Sigh, little Lanche. This time I’m back, I’ll definitely be married off," Gynia said with a melancholic expression.

Lanche was surprised. "Someone as talented as you still has to marry?"

"What does talent matter? It just changes the price tag," Gynia sighed softly. "Father wants me to marry into the Semous family."

"That merchant clan? He looked down on merchants. Why marry you off now?" Lanche’s interest piqued.

"Yeah," Gynia sighed, gazing at the night sky. "Aren’t the Claires merchant nobles? Lately, Father’s valuing commerce. His meaning is… for me not to lose the Bolnors’ honor at the Gomogate household."

Lanche understood. No one in the family knew business—they were sending her to fix it. Not losing face meant remembering her true family and serving it.

"So if you’re unwilling, he’s even more assured in marrying you off," Lanche said.

"Yeah, but I really don’t want to. The man’s tall, handsome, with that merchant aura," Gynia replied.

"What can you do? You’re twenty—in this world, that’s practically an old maid," Lanche shrugged.

Gynia grabbed his neck tightly. "You brat! Not helping me, just making sarcastic remarks. Did I spoil you with too much allowance?"

Lanche’s head pressed against her chest—he didn’t mind. Since childhood, he’d survived in the Bolnors household thanks to this half-sister. Pleasing her meant allowance and occasional perks.

"Alright, alright, I’ll help you," he said, patting her chest.

"You little pervert," Gynia released him.

"What are your plans now?" Lanche asked.

"Hmm… I want to see the Royal Capital," Gynia smiled slightly.

Lanche nodded. "I’ll cover your travel costs. Anything else?"

"The problem is Father…" Gynia looked melancholic. Earl Gorde was no pushover—the Iron Law Earl. All his kids feared him.

"No problem. I’ll arrange it, but you might not return," Lanche said, meeting her eyes.

"Not returning’s fine. I’ll travel. Maybe find someone to marry along the way," Gynia laughed.

Lanche nodded. "Good. This won’t be hard."

"Will your wife agree? What if Father holds us accountable?" Gynia hesitated. She wasn’t sure turning to Lanche was right—he was just married in. But for some reason, she trusted him. Growing up with him, her personality hadn’t been shaped by Gorde like her siblings’. He’d never expect her rebellion—running away.

"Don’t worry. I can handle this. Just go," Lanche pounded his chest confidently, flashing a self-assured smile.

Gynia smiled relieved, hugging him to her chest and ruffling his hair. "Seems you’ve got real status in that household."

"Of course!" Lanche buried his face in her soft bosom, rubbing against it. He might as well enjoy this blessing—he might never see his goddess-sister again.