With absolutely zero enthusiasm, I said, “I owe him a thousand gold.” The room went dead silent. Lo froze mid-page flip, her hands h in the air as if I had just fessed to murder. Lo’s wide-eyed expression erfect mix of disbelief and dismay. “…Excuse me?!” she finally demanded.

  “I didn’t get his body,” I giggled, casting a side g Lo, who looked one mispced word away from ung a full-scale interrogation. “Only his name. Don’t worry.”

  She did not look reassured. Instead, she carefully set her papers down, her movements deliberate, like she was handling a votile spell that could explode if she so much as breathed wrong. Then she examined me—eyes narrowed, scrutinizing, the kind of stare that made people fess sins they hadn’t even itted yet.

  “You… bought your own he tone was dangerous. Not furious. Not shocked. Just… dangerous. The exact kind of voiight use to question someone’s mental stability.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Well, what would be wrong if I did?” I pushed myself up from my chair and walked toward the window, tilting my head as I gazed at the bustling courtyard below. The soldiers were preparing, moving supplies, training formations, cheg ons with efficy.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t, but people spend money on—”

  “We don’t have enough money for most things!” Lo’s voice sharpened, frustration bleeding into every sylble, and I turned just in time to see her gesturing wildly, her movements animated, expressive, a stark trast to her usual collected posure. “Your influx of funds was wele, but it’s not nearly enough!” she tinued, barreling forward with justified e. “And we certainly don’t have a thousand gold to spare for your name!”

  Her face was flushed, a mix of stress, irritation, and that deeply ingrained bureaucratieed to make every t. She was mad for all the right reasons.

  So I did what any reasonable person would do in this situation. I strht up to her, leaned doulled her into a hug.

  Because apparently, I was a hugger now.

  Lo stiffened—her entire body going rigid, like she had just been ambushed by a particurly aggressive tax auditor. “Don’t worry,” I murmured against her stunned silence, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “I was kinda on a thievery spree, so I obtained enough gold for our campaign.”

  I felt her hands twitch slightly, like she was debating whether to push me away. “And,” I added, leaning back just enough to grin at her, “I may have grabbed a few gifts to… you know… iivize people to fight for us.”

  Lo let out a long sigh, then shook her head, her posture still tense. Finally, she gave me a light shove, breaking the lingering closeness of the hug. Her face was still flushed, her hands curling slightly as if f herself to let go of her frustration.

  “I apologize,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, but still carrying that faint, stubborn edge. “But I had to prioritize who gets the st of the supplies and what little money we have left.” She gnced down, her fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve, hesitating. “Lady… I’m so sorry I—”

  “You…” I cut her off with a ge firm smile, reag out and lifting her up before she could curl further into self-reproach. “You are the best assistant I could ever have, okay?”

  Lo’s eyes widened slightly, and for a sed, I could see the flicted mix of emotions fshing behind them—relief, embarrassment, maybe even something close to pride. Then, without dragging the moment any further, I stepped back, reg my personal space just as she let out a subtle but clearly relieved exhale.

  “Okay,” she nodded, pulling herself back together, already flipping through her ever-growing stack of paperwork as I returo my seat. Feet up oable.

  Cssic.

  Lo barely gave me half a gnce before moving on. “The sed point is that you promised the ceremony should be soon,” she said, her voice slipping effortlessly bato efficy mode. “You… were about the time and just said in the evening.” She shrugged, looking mildly exasperated. “I didn’t know how to fit it into the schedule… or even when you’d be returning.”

  “Sorry,” I shot bastantly. And for once? I meant it. I hadn’t realized just how much I ushing on her shoulders. And this was supposed to be a game. Not… a job. Well, I paid her, but still…

  A sharp knock at the d through the room, cutting off my thoughts. Both Lo and I turoward the entrance. “Enter,” I called, already expeg more work to be dumped onto my desk. The door swung open, and in strode a courier—a young woman in imperial blue, moving with purposeful speed. She didn’t speak. Instead, she bowed almost to the floor.

  Then, just as quickly, she pced a thick stack of papers oable, straightened up, a without a word. The entire exge took less than five seds. I blinked. “…Is that normal?” I raised an eyebrow.

  Lo barely even looked up. “Yes.” I stared after the vanishing courier, still half-processing what had just happened, while Lo was already flipping through the dots, skimming with her usual precision.

  “Okay, but…” I leaned back, fingers drumming idly against my knee. “What ceremony are we talking about again?”

  Lo didn’t even gnce up. “You promised to appoint Alma.”

  ht.

  Lo, fully absorbed in her papers, tinued, voice matter-of-fact. “Good news—your crew, Stha, and a few others have arrived.” She flipped a page, then o herself before delivering the actual important update. “We should now have firmed around two thousand people on our side.”

  “That’s good,” I nodded, leaning ba my chair, arms folding behind my head as I closed my eyes for a moment. The chair creaked slightly under my weight, but the sound was drowned out by the faint shuffle of part as Lo tinued s through the endless stream of dots.

  Stha.

  Not top-tier in power. But top-tier in resathering—which, holy? Way more useful in the long run. I was going to need a lot of resources to shape my territory into something funal. And more importantly? She was ner to thievery. Something I had, uh… retly picked up as a hobby.

  I let a grin curl at the edges of my lips. “You know what?” I said suddenly, sitting up straight, my excitement kig in like a spark catg fire. “Let’s do both things together!”

  Lo finally looked up, blinking at me like I had just proposed a wildly irresponsible idea. Which, fair. “Both?” she asked, clearly already preparing a ter-argument.

  “Yes! Think about it—” I spread my hands out, gesturing grandly. “They’ll see I throw away a thousand gold like it’s nothing,” I grinned, feeling a strange rush of fide the thought. “And I’ll make a speech.”

  Lo’s eyes immediately narrowed. Oh, she was skeptical. Very skeptical.

  “With my improvements,” I tinued, rushing forward before she could protest, “I should be able to not freeze.” And just like that, the excitement really hit me. I wasn’t just saying it.

  I meant it.

  Finally—finally—being able to stand before a crowd, to talk to people, to and without hesitation. Without awkwardness. Without freezing up. Lo tilted her head, watg me closely, curious now. I grinned wider. Because, for once, I actually felt like it was true.

  Lo stared at me for a while, her brows furrowing in thought. Then she gave a small nod, more to herself than to me. “That… That’s actually a very good idea.” She didn’t sound surprised exactly—just like she was trying to figure out how it happened. “I’ll make the arras,” she said, already grabbing a fresh sheet of part and scribbling furiously, her quill scratg across the page with focused iy.

  I exhaled, grinning slightly, then turned my gaze toward my own ever-growing pile of work. “Okay,” I muttered, finally surrendering to responsibility. My feet hit the ground, sliding down from my fortable sprawl as I sat up properly.

  I eyed the stack of papers waiting for me on the desk. “…I guess I o do my part.” And with only a little bit of reluce, I reached for the first dot.

  The arras took a full three hours. At first, I was bewildered. What could be so plicated about gathering people in one pce? But apparently, there were imperial protocols. Which meant—of course—that the attaché had to be invited. And I did invite him.

  Relutly.

  Because, as much as I hated admitting it, the bureaucratic fossil still held power, and I o py nice. With the final courier dispatched, Lo let out a satisfied sigh, stretg her arms above her head before rolliiff shoulders. “Everything is ready!”

  “Finally!” I shouted, dropping my quill onto the desk with dramatic exhaustion. The moveme a spsh of ink spilling across the table, but I ig entirely, already springing to my feet and striding toward the door. “Let’s go, then!”

  Behind me, I heard a sharp gasp. “Lady, please wait!” Lo’s tone was dht desperate. I paused, turning just in time to see her frantically grabbing at the mess of papers.

  I winced, rubbing the bay neck. “Oh, sorry,” I said sheepishly, stepping back to help her gather the scattered dots. Her hands moved quickly, flipping through pages like a worried mother iing a child after a fall. Once she seemed satisfied that no irreparable disasters had occurred, she exhaled sharply.

  “Where is the ceremony?” I asked, ready to actually leave this time.

  Lo didn’t even look up. “Throne room.”

  “…Excuse me?”

  She finally g me, blinking. “Throne room.” She repeated.

  “We have a throne room?” My fusion deepened.

  Lo, pletely unfazed, fiag her papers with surgical precision, then straightened her bad motioned for us to go. “Yes.”

  I blinked again, then slowly, suspiciously, followed her out the door.

  On our way to the ceremony—apparently held ihrone room—we came upon a strange sight. A girl.

  At first gnce, she looked almost delicate, small-framed, even shorter than me. Without heels. She had the youthful softness of someone around sixteen to eighteen, her features cute in a way that made her look more like a lost noble’s daughter than a warrior. Her long, white hair cascaded down her bad her eyes?

  One red. One blue. Like someone had spliced two worlds together inside her irises.

  Someone pyed with the character editor.

  She wore normal medium armor, well-maintained, fitted just right—practical, not oral. The kind of armor made for actual fighting, not just showing off, which was rare among pyers. Strapped to her back were two bdes. A rapier and a longsword, as if it was pletely natural to carry two ons of pletely different styles.

  And right now? She was arguing with a guard. Except… She ologizing in every other sentence. “I’m sorry—but really, I promise, I’m supposed to be here!” The guard crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Sorry! But—please, just check again, I’m sure—”

  We walked right into the middle of it, Lo’s footsteps slowing slightly as she took in the sight. I raised an eyebrow, watg as the girl bowed slightly between each protest. Her words rushed, polite, but determined.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked the guard, trying to i some authority into my voice. The guard immediately straightened, snapping into a sharp salute.

  “Lady!” His voice was firm, professional. “This noble girl is g she was io the ceremony, but—”

  “Sword Queen Charlie!” the girl practically yelled my Rime- title, her voice bursting with excitement. I blinked. She was already bowing slightly, her eyes wide, practically sparkling, her whole body buzzing with energy. “Sorry! But—please, I was invited! You did invite me!”

  She sounded surprised by that fact.

  Then, suddenly, her expression shifted. Her excitement fog inward as she closed her eyes, her fiwitg slightly, like she was reliving a memory. “Your teique in the fih the rapier…” Her tone dipped, almost reverent, as if she was still seeing it in her mind.

  Lo, to her credit, had pletely retreated behiack of papers, peeking out like she was shielding herself from Lunaris’ iy. Meanwhile, I just stood there, momentarily thrown.

  “Uhm.” Alright. That was a lot of energy to deal with all at once. I cleared my throat, f myself to refocus. “It’s… possible I did invite you,” I admitted, tilting my head slightly as I gave her a once-over.

  “What’s your name?”

  Her face lit up instantly. “Lunaris!”

  Lunaris? My eyes immediately flicked to her heteroatic gaze.

  Red. Blue.

  I g her ons, the familiar dual-wieldiup. Yeah. That checks out. She didn’t have her Katana-like sword yet, but that came ter—iure. And I would know. Because I had watched her fights.

  Because Lunaris was one of the best swhters in the game.

  I cocked my head, something slow and amused curling in my chest. “Lunaris?” I repeated, watg her beam up at me, pletely oblivious to what she was about to bee.

  This sweet, excited, eager girl. This future terror otlefield. This feared, dual-wielding menace who would one day cut through enemies like a storm.

  My grin stretched wider. “You’re invited. Don’t worry about it.” I oward the guard. “Keep up the good work.”

  “Thank you, Lady!” the guard bowed.

  Then, turning back to Lunaris, I motioned her forward. “Let’s go.” I threw a g Lo, who still looked half-ready to hide behind her paperwork. Then, with a final amused smirk, I started walking, leading the way to the throne room.