"No, no—I’ve seen Lanche since he was a kid, right, Lanche?" Edwin smiled, smoothing things over.

"Yes," Lanche finally replied with a smile. "As children, I played with the Seventh Princess. Little Yufi always tried to tag along."

"Shut up!" Yufi snapped instantly, glaring furiously.

"Could I be mistaken?" Lanche looked utterly innocent, then mused, "Back then, you’d cling to me, and I’d brush you off. Who’d have thought now I’m the one beneath you?"

"I don’t want to hear about childhood from you. Show some respect," Yufi glared coldly.

"Of course, Miss Yufi," Lanche smiled politely.

But Yufi’s anger didn’t fade; she stayed silent, face icy.

The air turned awkward instantly. Yet Lanche sat perfectly composed beside Kestia.

Silence stretched, thick with tension.

Kestia didn’t blame Lanche—the other side had been rude first. She simply watched calmly, saying nothing.

"Come now, childhood friends quarrel—it’s natural," Edwin chuckled, easing the mood again.

"Those were seven-year-old memories. Let them go, Lanche. Don’t bring it up. You’re married now; Yufi’s running for king. You’ve both grown up."

He smiled at Lanche, hinting subtly.

Childhood playmates, now worlds apart.

Lanche nodded with a faint smile, offering no more.

Honestly, he had zero interest in teasing Yufi.

This young lady had been a golden-haired, twin-tailed tsundere since childhood—always acting haughty and noble. He’d ignored girls like her.

Tsundere was so outdated!

If he had to tease anyone, he’d prefer that cold, clumsy maid behind them.

"Yufi, don’t dwell on it," Edwin patted her shoulder comfortingly.

Yufi nodded, ignoring Lanche, and turned to Kestia apologetically. "Sorry, Miss Christia. Just a minor spat. I hope it won’t harm our friendly talks."

Kestia nodded back. "No problem."

"Wait—you knew the Seventh Princess?" Kestia asked Lanche.

"Childhood playmates, I suppose. Now we’re strangers, like this one," Lanche shrugged.

Yufi inwardly sneered. Obviously. A good-for-nothing like you—did you expect anyone to remember you?

Years ago, the king held a banquet. Gorde brought Lanche along, using him as a scapegoat.

If everyone sighed over Lanche’s uselessness, it’d hide Gorde’s other children’s lack of talent.

But at that feast, Lanche charmed the Seventh Princess and became her playmate.

For some reason, Gorde let him stay in a Royal Capital house, playing with her often.

That’s when Yufi started tagging along.

"Miss Christia," Yufi said calmly, refusing to recall childhood—it was branded with shame for her. She looked earnestly at Kestia. "May I ask about the Claire Family’s origins first?"

Kestia glanced at her and Edwin. "History records it. Our family founded the kingdom alongside the first Hero King."

"True—the kingdom’s books mention the Kleyn name often. Their deeds rival the five earls’," Yufi nodded.

"But the Claire Family vanished for four hundred years. Why return now? Explain," she pressed, staring straight into Kestia’s eyes.

"It’s because…" Kestia paused.

"Historical records are vague. But it seems the Claire Family isn’t ordinary human?" Yufi leaned in, refusing to let her evade.

Silence fell again.

This time, Edwin and the others watched Kestia.

Kestia sighed softly. "If history recorded a being far stronger than humans, it’d overshadow the Hero King and human heroes. So our Claire Family’s records were reduced to this."

"So you admit you’re not human?" Edwin asked, glancing at Lanche and the Liya-Lekui sisters behind them.

Honestly, he couldn’t tell them apart—they all looked perfectly human.

It unnerved him slightly.

"What do you think?" Kestia countered.

"What makes one human? Same looks? Equal smarts? Or sharing land and language?"

She held his gaze calmly, leaving him speechless.

Humans themselves don’t see each other as equals across nations, regions, or cultures.

The kingdom even has Subhumans, Catfolk, Rabbitfolk—all coexisting peacefully.

So the Claire Family’s race doesn’t matter. What counts is our wisdom, power, past aid to the kingdom, and genuine noble title.

Kestia glanced meaningfully at Lanche. He smiled slightly, unsurprised—as if he’d known all along.

With his smarts, he probably had guessed it. And his lack of concern reassured her.

"Alright, Miss Christia. One more question: after vanishing four hundred years, why reappear now and join the king’s election?" Yufi asked, studying Kestia’s face for every flicker.

"I have one purpose only," Kestia met her eyes steadily, sincere. "I want our clan to build ties with the kingdom—mutual aid. That’s all."

"I swear on the Claire Family’s honor: we were the kingdom’s friends then, and we are now."

"Can’t you just tell us your race?" Edwin pressed.

"Sorry—it’s not refusal. The time isn’t right. Cooperate with us, and you’ll learn naturally," Kestia said calmly.

"I’ll only say this: befriend our clan, gain our strength, and the kingdom will fear no Demon Kin. For Miss Yufi’s campaign, it’s a massive advantage. Weigh it yourselves."

She wasn’t a master negotiator—just laying her cards openly, letting them judge risks and rewards.

After all, risks were meant to be shared.