Yufi and Edwin remained silent, still skeptical of Kestia’s words. Yet historical records did offer glimpses of the Claire Family’s formidable power.

If they once helped the Hero King establish this kingdom, could they now help them claim the throne?

But what race could they possibly be? They looked human, possessed human-like intelligence, yet wielded power far beyond humanity.

Appearances could be disguised, but few races combined such intellect and strength.

The only possibility they could think of was the Elvenfolk—but elves had no need to hide. Universally revered as superior beings, all humans held them in respect.

Dragons? Those were mere monsters.

"Dragon-slayer" remained a title of immense honor, an emblem of strength and courage.

The idea of a dragon taking human form was unimaginable—something never heard of before.

"And you?" Yufi turned to Lanche, her expression cool and dismissive. "You’re Earl Belnos’s son. Surely you’re human. What do you make of them?"

All eyes shifted to Lanche, awaiting his judgment.

"Me?" Lanche chuckled. "What matters most between spouses?"

He posed the unexpected question.

Kestia froze. A wave of sweetness and tenderness washed over her. Softly, she whispered, "Trust."

Lanche’s rehearsed line about "love and devotion" died on his lips.

"Exactly," he nodded firmly. "So you ask me? My answer is simple: trust them with everything you have!"

His gaze burned with conviction.

Silence fell over the room.

In that moment, he truly believed himself the most dashing man alive.

A faint, tender smile touched Kestia’s lips.

"More useless nonsense," Yufi rolled her eyes, long accustomed to his smooth talk. Pure contempt filled her voice.

Only someone naive and non-human like Kestia would fall for it.

"Never mind. Your opinion was worthless anyway." She turned away from Lanche.

"Miss Kestia," Yufi’s tone turned calm as she faced her again. "One last question."

Kestia disliked her attitude but gave a slight nod.

"You want to help me become queen first, then establish diplomatic ties with the kingdom—instead of petitioning the old king now. Is it because your people need territory?" Yufi’s eyes held steady.

This question was critical.

They might overlook the Claires’ origins, but they wouldn’t invite wolves into their home.

"We have our own lands," Kestia replied. "We seek only mutual aid against external threats. Building trust and communication between our peoples is paramount—that’s why I cannot approach the old king yet."

Truthfully, she doubted trust with House Greenhight could ever exist. Their treatment of Lanche since their first meeting reeked of opportunism.

Yufi exchanged a glance with Edwin.

She read her father’s meaning clearly: *Unnecessary. Refuse. Reject.*

Edwin wouldn’t take the risk.

Though House Berklischt paled beside House Greenhight’s power, the throne wasn’t worth gambling everything for.

This election wasn’t a bloody struggle for survival—it was a contest of merit, where the most capable rose to lead.

Past successions had seen almost no bloodshed. A fair, civilized competition.

Edwin refused to jeopardize his house by allying with mysterious non-humans for a crown.

Especially when the Claires had chosen a useless man like Lanche as their pawn. Who knew how easily he could be controlled?

The will to cooperate had faded on both sides.

Kestia prepared to leave, already considering other candidates.

Then Yufi paused. "Very well," she said slowly, fixing Kestia with a steady gaze. "If you dare swear before the gods, House Claire and I will cooperate."

"Yufi!" Edwin frowned, caught off guard by his daughter’s impulsiveness.

She gave him a reassuring look. She knew what she was doing.

"Well? Miss Kestia?"

Kestia hesitated, glancing at Lanche.

He wanted no part in this—but since he was here, he gave a small nod.

Setting aside personal grudges, Yufi was their only viable, suitable candidate.

Kestia straightened her shoulders. "Agreed. I swear before the gods on the honor of House Claire."

"We’ll require the Grand Cathedral as witness," Yufi stated.

"Acceptable," Kestia replied without hesitation.

Edwin said nothing more.

A vow before the gods in the Grand Cathedral was binding.

Faith mattered less than the simple fact: no one dared deceive the divine.

Not the Demon Kin’s Overlord, not the Human Empire’s Emperor, not even High Elders of the Elvenfolk or sacred Seraphim.

Kestia wouldn’t dare either. The Dragonfolk had been nearly wiped out once already.

The alliance was sealed. Only formalities remained.

Yufi didn’t glance at Lanche again. Personal grievances were discarded. Only victory mattered now—the highest throne awaited.

They arranged to meet at the Grand Cathedral the next day. Kestia would swear her words were true, pledging never to harm humans or the kingdom.

She accepted calmly, without fear.

By the time they left Yufi’s estate, dusk painted the horizon.

Only after boarding the carriage did Kestia exhale, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

Political maneuvering truly exhausted her.

Was this outcome truly good? Could they truly cooperate with such strained relations?

"Your Highness, shall we return to the manor?" Liya suggested. "I recommend staying at an inn. Night is falling, and you have the cathedral appointment with Miss Yufi tomorrow."

Kestia nodded. "Very well. To the inn."

She turned to Lanche, her voice soft. "Lanche... what are your thoughts?"

"Sure, an inn sounds fine," he shrugged carelessly.

"That’s not what I meant," Kestia said, holding his gaze.

"About not telling you our race... our true purpose earlier..." she murmured.

"Don’t worry about it," Lanche waved a hand. "As long as you keep me fed and housed, I’m happy."

He didn’t even care what race they were. Humanoid was good enough—especially when they looked this stunning. No need to be picky.

Kestia felt a flicker of exasperation, but also relief.

"And the royal election..." she began.

"Oh look!" Lanche exclaimed, gazing out the window. "Such lovely weather! The Royal Capital really is magnificent—truly worthy of being the kingdom’s heart!"

"You’re just trying to dodge work," Liya shot back, glaring.

"Pathetic," Lekui muttered with disdain.

"It’s alright," Kestia gently stopped the sisters. She wasn’t angry. "If you prefer not to be troubled, so be it."

"Mm, thanks, dear wife," Lanche grinned.

Kestia didn’t press him. When the time came, she knew he’d act.

She believed Lanche was a man of his word.