After leaving the banks of the Navis River, Lekui walked with her head bowed in silence.

She had no choice but to admit her failure.

"It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself," Liya comforted her.

"I just wanted to ease His Highness’s burdens…" Lekui murmured.

"I know." Liya smiled, gently ruffling her sister’s hair. "You *are* easing his burdens. You clean the manor spotless every day—he’s praised you for it."

Lekui frowned. "I’m not just a maid. I’m more useful than *that guy*."

"So what? Everyone has their role. Do what’s needed when it’s needed. No need to compare yourself to others," Liya advised.

Lekui fell silent again.

Liya stroked her silky hair until she finally calmed down.

The sisters returned to the manor to rest, too embarrassed to disturb anyone else.

Kestia stood by her bedroom window, unlit. Moonlight bathed her body, spilling over her silver hair.

She gazed calmly outside. Only after sensing the sisters’ safe return did she turn toward her bed, deciding against reprimanding them.

They’d followed her from the Dragon Realm—her most loyal subordinates. Sisters in all but blood.

The next day, Kestia listened as Lekui reported. She nodded slowly. "It’s fine. If it didn’t work out, it didn’t work out."

"Yes." Lekui kept her head lowered.

"I’ll go clean now…"

"Go ahead." Kestia nodded again, words failing her. She and Lekui were alike—both terrible with comfort.

Lekui felt she’d disappointed the princess. Silently, she fetched her cleaning tools.

Then she spotted a small barrel of liquor on the table.

"*That guy*," she muttered, frowning. "Drinking again and leaving it out."

She moved to tidy up after Lanche.

But up close, this brew looked different from regular malt liquor. Though similarly pale yellow, it bubbled with foam.

She sniffed. The scent was unfamiliar too.

"Did Lanche make this?" Liya appeared behind her.

Curious, Liya poured a cup and tasted it. Her eyes widened. "Mmph! This is amazing! A hint of bitterness—but why is it so *good*?"

Lekui watched as Liya drained half the cup with a satisfied sigh.

"Take it to Her Highness," Lekui said flatly, handing over the barrel.

*Another one of Lanche’s solutions. One I don’t understand.*

Liya nodded eagerly. "You find Lanche first. I’ll take this to Her Highness."

She hurried off with the barrel.

Lekui hesitated, then went to find Lanche.

He wasn’t out. Just stretching in the courtyard, basking in the morning sun, breathing fresh air.

"Hey." Lekui called coldly.

"My name’s not ‘Hey.’ It’s Chu Yuxun," Lanche replied without turning, still stretching.

Lekui blinked. "Aren’t you Lanche?"

"You *do* know my name." Lanche grinned over his shoulder.

Lekui’s face hardened. She sniffed sharply. "That barrel of liquor. Did you make it?"

"Not telling." Lanche winked, twisting his waist playfully.

Lekui’s eyes narrowed in frustration.

Lanche’s grin widened. He sighed happily at the sunny sky.

After a pause, Lekui muttered, "Sorry. I shouldn’t have looked down on you…"

Lanche turned, genuinely surprised.

"Nope. I prefer your defiant spirit," he said, holding up a hand.

Lekui’s fist shot out.

"If you *really* want to apologize," Lanche declared, hands on hips, chin up, "call me *Young Master Lanche*."

Lekui turned on her heel to leave.

Lanche chuckled. *He loved teasing the maids.*

But Lekui yanked him back by the collar.

"A-ah! Stop! I’ll tell you!" Lanche yelped.

When she released him, he pressed a dried herb into her hand. "This is hops. The liquor it brews is called *beer*. It replaces Groot herbs."

Lekui examined the greenish cone. It looked like ordinary weeds.

"You’re not lying?" She stared him down.

"Why would I?" Lanche shrugged.

"Isn’t this just wild grass?" She remained skeptical.

"*Exactly*. So we can forage or grow it freely. No more blockades."

He shoved a small notebook at her. "Here’s the recipe. Tell Kestia: once we have the substitute, we’ll *pretend* we still need Groot herbs. Until we bankrupt them all."

Lekui tilted her head slightly. "Why not tell her yourself?"

"Huh? Not my problem." Lanche feigned innocence.

He dumped everything into her arms and bolted.

Lekui sighed. *He avoids real work like the plague.*

Reluctantly, she returned to report to Kestia.

In the study, Sileus and Liya were already there, buzzing with excitement—hope had returned.

Kestia sat quietly. The barrel sat on her desk beside cups filled with two brews: clear malt liquor and the foamy new one.

They’d compared tastes. The foamy version was crisper, cleaner.

Sileus was certain it’d sell—but how did it solve the Groot herb stranglehold?

A knock. Lekui entered.

"Where’s Lanche?" Kestia asked instinctively.

"He… isn’t allowed here, is he?" Lekui hesitated.

This was still his forbidden zone.

Kestia paused. Sileus smoothly interjected, "I think it’s fine now. Young Master Lanche has helped us greatly."

Kestia nodded slightly, eyes on Lekui—*Go fetch him.*

Lekui shifted awkwardly. "He… refused to come. Gave me these instead."

She presented the hops and notebook, repeating Lanche’s words verbatim.

"This replaces Groot herbs?" Kestia examined the unassuming green cone. *Hops? It looked nothing like a flower.*

"If true, we can turn the tide!" Sileus beamed.

Kestia understood instantly.

They’d pretend to still need Groot herbs. Semos Trading Company would keep hoarding them. Gorde would waste resources hunting smugglers.

Meanwhile, their foamy beer would dominate the market. Semos’s old malt liquor would rot on shelves. Their stockpiled Groot herbs? Worthless. Bankrupt.

Gorde’s anti-smuggling crusade? A costly farce.

And the Claire Family? They’d stop buying smuggled Groot herbs at inflated prices. Just pretend to need them—lulling smugglers into complacency. The ultimate winners.

"A brilliant strategy," Kestia murmured.

But her thoughts drifted elsewhere. *Why wouldn’t Lanche tell her himself? Did he truly dislike her that much?*

Her mood darkened.