On the second day in the Royal Capital, Lanche slept soundly at the inn until he woke naturally. He pushed open his window comfortably, greeting the morning sun.

The Royal Capital’s dawn unfolded before him—a sight he’d never seen before.

Traveling merchants drove carriages to the early market, merging into traffic. Some bought supplies; others delivered goods.

Bread’s aroma drifted through steam-filled streets, drawing busy people to stop and buy.

Adventurers in armor and weapons gathered in small groups. They chatted and laughed with companions, heading out on missions.

Though danger and hardship awaited, being with friends brought extra joy.

A bard by the roadside played an organ, singing praises to their courage.

Watching this, Lanche felt refreshed and energized.

What pleased him most was admiring it like a painting—not being part of the rushing crowd.

“Comfortable!” He was deeply satisfied with this life.

Stepping out, Lekui stood at his door, her face cold as ever.

“Have you been waiting here all this time?” Lanche asked, surprised.

“His Highness and Liya left already. You’re free to move about,” Lekui said flatly, clearly avoiding him.

Yet as a professional maid, she’d waited silently without disturbing his sleep.

Lanche found this endearing. Smiling, he said, “So you’re assigned to protect me?”

Lekui stayed silent, cold-faced, too lazy to look at him.

Lanche didn’t mind. He took her to breakfast, then strolled leisurely through streets.

The Royal Capital held unique charms.

Its layout was neater than Fokxas. Houses stood in orderly rows; streets crisscrossed but stayed well-organized.

Sanitation surpassed Fokxas too—better drainage meant no haphazard garbage or sewage.

Crowds were denser than Fokxas, with diverse clothing hinting at travelers. This added exotic flair.

Many were non-humans like Subhumans, sporting animal traits—cat ears, dog tails. Rare in Fokxas, they were common here.

The only flaw: people seemed busier, rushing to survive.

Royal Capital soldiers outshone Gorde’s. Neat uniforms, swords at waists, polite manners—they trained to Knighthood standards, with promotion chances.

But Lanche saw knights hurrying tensely, like salesmen scrambling to meet month-end targets under boss pressure.

Curious, he walked to the Knighthood’s spire building.

The spire served as a public office and Knighthood HQ, with a small square out front.

A notice board stood there. Two soldiers shouted announcements, drawing a crowd.

Lanche and Lekui joined them. His eyes scanned row after row of wanted posters.

Soldiers urged citizens to report tips, aiding the Knighthood’s cases.

Clearly, these cases caused their busyness.

Lanche examined closer. Most were murder warrants with criminal portraits.

Soldiers raged about these utterly wicked thieves—killing for profit, committing every evil. They urged reports or bringing heads for rich bounties.

Missing persons notices followed, mostly for pretty girls. Rewards awaited finders.

Other crimes: smuggling, theft, trafficking contraband.

No wonder knights were overwhelmed.

“What’s happening? It wasn’t like this when I visited as a kid,” Lanche muttered, puzzled.

This felt wrong.

To him, the kingdom was well-run. Elected kings were rarely incompetent, explaining the capital’s civilized prosperity.

Yet beneath this shine lay so many crimes?

And these were just the reported ones.

“Isn’t this normal?” Lekui shrugged dismissively.

This world was dangerous. Robbery and murder were routine.

Lanche shook his head. “Crimes are normal, but too many aren’t. It means instability—public order will suffer.”

Lekui didn’t understand, so she stayed quiet.

Since her failed show of strength last time, she’d grown obedient, listening to Lanche’s explanations.

Meanwhile, Kestia and Yufi exited the church, both satisfied with the results.

They moved to the manor to discuss the king’s election.

“Claire Beer will soon sell in royal territories. The Claire Family will enter noble circles. I’ll introduce you to friends then,” Yufi said.

“I’m in your debt,” Kestia nodded.

“Now, the election,” Yufi paused carefully.

“Simply: gain fame and prestige. Catch thieves, repel Demon Kin, even business ventures—any contribution earning recognition boosts prestige.”

“Each year, the king and ministers evaluate. If our prestige surpasses Prince Reina’s, we become first heir.”

Kestia nodded. “But Prince Reina’s advantage is huge—far beyond you as second heir.”

“He’s the old king’s eldest grandson. He has the king’s backing and Earl Agros’s endorsement. His sister has Earl Lesdor’s support. Two earls stand with Prince Reina.”

In this case, Prince Reina inheriting was almost certain, the people’s choice.

“I know. That’s why I need the Claire Family’s strength. Even a slim chance—I’ll strive for it,” Yufi said earnestly.

This resolve made Kestia envious.

She often wanted to quit after setbacks, persisting only through others’ encouragement.

Yufi feared no hardship, chasing her goals alone. In this, she was stronger.

“I hope our cooperation succeeds. May we both achieve our wishes,” Kestia said.

Yufi smiled and nodded.

They looked alike—young women of seventeen or eighteen. Without Lanche around, she believed they could be friends, even sisters.

As long as that good-for-nothing Lanche didn’t stir trouble.