"Welcome back, Lord Orion. Hope everything went well."
I said that while sitting crouched like a half-dead squirrel in front of the inn's entrance.
I'd just returned from morning training, which was, according to Clara, "light." Which means I could still walk. Barely. My legs felt like boiled noodles, and I had to sit before they declared independence from the rest of my body.
Then again she is a powerhouse without an innate skill. She must have gone through a lot more.
Orion gave me a nod. He looked… tired. And not the "I had a bad sleep" kind. The "someone kicked my trust in humanity down a flight of stairs" kind.
Sylvia, who'd been chatting with Clara at the dining table, turned as soon as I spoke.
"Welcome back, Father. What happened?"
She walked over with her usual grace. Clara quietly handed me a cold glass of juice like I was a patient recovering from mana depletion. I might as well have been.
Orion sat down opposite me and sighed.
"They took four of our staff for further investigation," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The rest should be sent here by evening. Among the four… one is my minister."
I straightened a little, suddenly forgetting that I was trying to keep my muscles still. Sylvia blinked. Clara, without a word, passed a glass of cold juice to Orion, who took it with a nod of thanks.
"He gave the names of the other three," Orion continued, "and admitted that he was told to add certain products to the trade list...the same ones Sir Eldrin had previously rejected."
That was expected.
"You were right, Sylvia," Orion said, setting the glass down. "I shouldn't have trusted the ministers blindly."
At least he admitted it.
Sylvia offered a comforting smile. "At least three of the ministers have been cleared of suspicion. That's something, Father. We will soon find out the one behind this too."
I watched, quietly listening to their exchange, trying very hard not to move my shoulders or back because one twitch and I might scream. I swear Clara's definition of "warm-up" could scare war veterans.
"Well…" Orion exhaled and straightened his posture. "Now that one problem is solved, let's focus on the matter at hand."
Sylvia nodded and walked over to the table, picking up a stack of neatly arranged papers. "We've made budget allocations," she said, "and once we show them to you and the ministers, we'll begin recruiting. The only thing left is mapping out our consumers and handpicking them to maximize our publicity."
Orion actually looked pleased for a second. "I'll ask the ministers to research market movement and get the target list ready."
He turned his gaze toward me. I was lying back on a pillow now, flipping through an old book I couldn't read but was pretending to anyway. Very convincingly, if I may say so.
"Lord Hugo," Orion said, "are there any updates from the castle about approving our proposal?"
I sat up slightly, the book still in my hands. "We've sent the letter detailing everything to the castle. Once we get a reply, I'll let you know right away."
Orion furrowed his brows, clearly concerned. "Not that I doubt it or anything, but… if it gets rejected at the castle, all our efforts would be wasted, wouldn't they?"
He had a point. But—
"Don't worry, Lord Orion," I said with a smile, "my father already secured the funds. I've just asked Sir Gaveric to release them systematically. Small chunks. We don't want to stir up the duchy by flooding money all at once."
He nodded slowly, still processing.
"Besides," I added, "we'll be doing direct transactions from the castle. The merchant groups can request money directly, with my signature. That way we cut out middlemen and increase efficiency. Don't worry, your share of the profits won't be forgotten."
Orion finally smiled. "Of course, Lord Hugo. That was never the concern. We trust our benefactors wholeheartedly."
"Glad to hear that," I said and went back to flipping the pages of the book, runes and symbols that looked more like a magical recipe than a written language.
Sylvia tilted her head toward me. "Do you know rune language, lord Hugo?"
I paused. Looked at the text. I mean, no. Not at all. I don't even know which direction this thing is supposed to be read in.
But thanks to Inspect, I had translations, highlights, annotations, summaries, and even a 'Would You Like To Learn More?' popup every once in a while. It was like reading a spark-noted edition written by a diligent scholar who also happened to be obsessed with highlighters.
"I do have a little knowledge of the Elvian language," I said, casually turning another page.
Sylvia smiled. "And what's that book about?"
"History and geography of the Elvian Kingdom," I replied. "Couldn't find much about elves back in our library, so I figured I'd learn straight from the source."
"Smart choice," Sylvia nodded. "Knowing the ins and outs will definitely help."
I agreed. Even though I was mostly skimming, the details coming through Inspect were very juicy. Did you know the Elvian capital was once grown, not built? Like an actual city-sized bonsai project?
Sylvia turned to Orion again. "Father, since we'll be staying here for a while, we were planning to train our skills in...dungeon."
Orion narrowed his eyes. "Dungeon?"
Here we go.
"That's dangerous," he said immediately. "We can't trust adventurers in a kingdom we don't know much about."
Sylvia, calm as ever, replied, "We won't be hiring anyone for protection, Father. Clara will be leading us."
"Clara?" Orion blinked. "So just you three kids? That's your plan?"
I was 28. And I payed taxes.
"Yes," Sylvia said cheerfully. "Clara has a lot of experience in exploration."
To her credit, Clara looked completely nonchalant about being called a 'dungeon guide.' Honestly, she could probably solo one with a tray of teacups and still come back spotless.
Orion sighed. "Seems like your minds are made up already. Just… don't go too deep."
He turned to me next. "And get back the moment it starts to look dangerous."
Huh?
Why are you looking at me like I'm the one who drags people into trouble?
Sylvia smiled at him again. "Don't worry, Father. We won't do anything reckless."
And then she turned to look at me.
What?
Why are you looking at me like that?
That fight with Varkis is just a one time thing...Damn it!
I sipped my juice like it was the only thing keeping me from questioning the decisions that brought me here.
Then Sylvia said, "Father, have you had breakfast?"
"No," Orion said. "I came here as soon as I could."
"I'll ask the maids to prepare something fresh. Please freshen up first."
Orion nodded and walked off to his room. I watched them go and leaned back, flipping the book again.
Father and daughter... Huh? How lovely.
Anyway.
Back to pretending I'm not dying from soreness and definitely not panicking about dungeon plans.
"Lord Hugo, let's go buy the equipment for the dungeon. Preparatory works are as important as exploration itself."
That's how my afternoon started.
"Just Sylvia, sharp as a blade, dragging me through the streets of Lioraeth on what she called a shopping quest. And so, here I am: wandering aimlessly in a land of elves with Clara and Sylvia like some fashion-challenged third wheel.
The destination?
Apparently… a clothing store.
"Lord Hugo, let's buy the clothes first. We can get matching gear later," Sylvia said, pointing to a boutique that looked suspiciously like it sold ballgowns, not armor.
Matching gear? For a dungeon?
We're not going to a masquerade ball, Lady. We're going into a probably moldy, definitely dangerous pit of monsters and death traps. But sure, let's pick out our color-coordinated deathwear.
I just nodded and followed them in.
The moment we entered, the store owner, a well-dressed elven lady who looked like she might be in her fifties and is actually 83, gave us a warm smile. "Welcome to the shop. Please browse to your heart's content. If you need anything specific, don't hesitate to ask."
I raised my hand.
"Just a shirt and pants for me," I said. "Something I can move freely in."
And just like that, Sylvia looked betrayed and Clara blinked at me like I had insulted her ancestral lineage.
Sylvia grabbed Clara's hand like some heartbroken lover in a play. "Let's leave him," she sighed, dragging Clara deeper into the racks of fabric and fashion with the tragic grace of a lead actress.
And just like that..I was abandoned.
I found a chair in the corner, wooden, a little wobbly, but blessedly available, and collapsed onto it. Just as I was about to relax, the shopkeeper appeared with a measuring tape.
She raised an eyebrow and walked up to me with the determination of someone who's been through this a thousand times.
I got up with a sigh.
She took my measurements in silence, then paused, squinted at my ears, and asked, "Are you humans new to the town?"
"Yes," I said. "We arrived recently for business recently."
"Recently?" she tilted her head. "You're not from Zerathene?"
"No," I replied. "We're from Valthryon."
She blinked in genuine surprise. "They agreed to trade with a human kingdom? Truly?"
"Not with the empire," I corrected. "Just my family. Personally."
"Ahh… independent trading, is it?" she nodded thoughtfully. "Smart. I hope they make trades with other kingdoms too someday. Everything not native has become so expensive. We've had to buy whatever the Zerathene merchants priced things at."
"Yeah," I said with a chuckle. "We're not empire-backed yet, but we'll keep things affordable."
She smiled at that. "Pretty slick for a kid."
Again, I was 28 and I paid taxes.
She walked off, and I finally got to sit back down with a basic shirt and pants in hand. No frills, no drama. Just pure utility.
Meanwhile, Clara and Sylvia were living their best lives, browsing through racks like they were in some royal wardrobe. Well… it's not every day you get to browse through elven clothing. They probably earned it.
I leaned back against the wall and was just about to close my eyes...maybe even doze a bit, when a voice cut in:
"Lord Hugo, I'm thinking of buying this. Will this be okay?"
I opened my eyes… and froze.
Sylvia stood before me in casual clothes.
And I don't mean "casual" as in just-a-tunic. I mean… an actual dress. Not armor. Not training gear. A simple, yet elegant silver top with a soft yellow skirt.
Damn! this girl is cute.
"Lord Hugo?" she tilted her head, clearly confused by my stunned silence.
I cleared my throat, trying to snap out of it. "Ahem. Of course, Lady Sylvia. Anything looks good on you."
She pouted slightly. "Hmm... I'm not liking this anymore. Let me choose another set."
Wait..what?
Another set means another hour of browsing!
"No, no, Lady Sylvia," I said quickly. "The dress looks great. I was just… momentarily captivated. Truly, I was just mesmerized by your beauty."
Her face turned the color of her top.
"…Very well," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll buy this one."
I think I dodged another abandonment. Barely.
"Now then," Sylvia turned with a smile, "it's Clara's turn."
I knew it!!
Twenty minutes later, I had just started bonding with an ant on the floor, let's call him Greg, when I heard Clara's voice.
"Lord Hugo, what do you think?"
I looked up.
And wow.
Clara wore a silver skirt about the same length as her maid uniform and a soft yellow blouse that somehow matched Sylvia's. Not intentionally… right?
Wait… matching skirts. Matching tops. Same tones as their hair.
Oh god, it's a trend.
I stared for a beat too long. Clara blinked, visibly flustered.
"You should stop being a maid and try modeling," I teased.
Sylvia smirked. "He must not have liked your tea, Clara."
Clara shot me a look. A look. One that promised vengeance by tea.
You set me up! I looked at Sylvia, demanding the reason for her betrayal.
Sylvia just kept smirking.
They laughed together after that. And I… I felt like the joke was on me.
We finished shopping and headed to the gear store. Clara took full control there. We breezed through shelves, prices, and bundles like a mini tornado of efficiency.
Before I knew it, we were packed and done.
"I'll submit the application to the guild," Clara said, holding the paperwork. "Please stay here, Lord Hugo."
"Do you not need us?" I asked.
"Only one party member is required for registration," Sylvia answered. "But all members must report before departure."
I nodded.
"Let's sit there," I pointed to a stone bench beside a water fountain at the center of town.
Just like that, Clara disappeared toward the guild, and I was left sitting on the bench with Sylvia. The soft gurgle of the fountain, the rustling of tree leaves in the breeze, and the faint hum of elven city life around us. Peaceful.
Maybe too peaceful.
And now… I'm alone. With Sylvia.