I flicked a glance at Lola. She nodded, a slight smile on her lips, before handing me a parchment. The paper was rough beneath my fingers, the edges uneven, like it had been torn from something larger in a hurry. I traced the surface absentmindedly before turning my attention to the beautiful, precise handwriting scrawled across it.

  “Now, let me read the finer details about what exactly the royal company and alliance are.” I cleared my throat, shifting my stance a little. “My brilliant assistant, Lola, helped with that.” At that, I pointed at her.

  Lola furrowed her brows, her lips pressing into a tight line. I grinned. Ah, the face of someone deeply regretting giving me her notes. Still, I pressed forward, scanning the document and launching into the words like a proper noble. “In accordance with system rules, and as a member of the ruling family of an independent entity known as Eeleim, I can found a company, and/or, Charlie choose the correct ba—”

  I stopped. Bit my lip. From the corner of my eye, Lola facepalmed so hard I could feel it in my soul. And the entire room erupted into laughter. I let out a slow exhale, shaking my head as I tried—tried—to maintain an air of dignity. “Uhm,” I said, flashing a sheepish grin. “Apologies…”

  I skimmed ahead, this time actually trying to understand the bureaucratic nonsense Lola had prepared. “Ahem. I—as in, me, personally—can found a company and alliance, and they will be recognized as legitimate for one year under system law. Because the de jure land of the kingdom Eeleim is under the control of a foreign entity—”

  I frowned. Wait. That’s me.

  “—I personally have one year to either incorporate appropriate land into Eeleim or achieve high noble status. Examples include…” I let out a suffering sigh and turned my head toward Lola. “Do I really need to read this?”

  She didn’t say a word. Just glared. And then motioned aggressively for me to keep going. Fair. “Okay, okay, guys, apparently, the system needs to hear it out loud, so buckle up!” I called out, sighing dramatically.

  The crowd laughed again, some shaking their heads, others nudging each other with amused grins. Except for the attaché. I caught him watching Lola with a weird look, but not his usual disapproval. Was that… respect? Interesting. I scanned ahead, looking for something that wouldn’t make me want to curl up and disappear into my chair.

  My lips curled into a grin. “Basically, I have one year to confirm my status—” Before I could finish, a sharp voice cut through my mind.

  “Pretender, let me out! I can help!” I froze. My breath hitched just slightly.

  “Uhm.” I blinked, my focus snapping back to reality. “Apologies, guys, but… Really?”

  Relando’s voice was serious. “Yes. Now.”

  Lola collapsed into her chair, looking like she had just aged a decade in real-time. Her knuckles were white, fingers clutching her quill like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. The sheer desperation in her expression was enough to make even the most hardened warriors in the room avert their eyes, as if bearing witness to a bureaucratic tragedy too great to comprehend.

  She looked like she wanted to cry.

  Hey, it’s not my fault! This time…

  I sighed and closed my eyes, pressing my fingers against the cool surface of the relic amulet hanging from my neck. Its ancient inscriptions buzzed faintly under my touch, the magic inside it waiting. All it took was a trickle of mana, just the barest suggestion that the prince should be here in person.

  And reality bent to my will. A pulse of silver light flared in front of the throne, like the air itself had been cut open and stitched back together. Then…

  He appeared.

  Prince Relando stood right in the center of the room, his regal hunting armor catching the dim magic torchlight, its dark green and gold accents gleaming faintly. For half a second, there was stunned silence, a heartbeat of absolute stillness, before the guards reacted.

  Steel sang as swords left their scabbards. A dozen blades were drawn, pointed straight at him. And it wasn’t just the guards.

  Some of the more cautious players were already positioning themselves defensively, hands hovering over weapons and wands, while others—like Scamantha—just watched in fascination, their gazes flicking between me and Relando like they were waiting to see how much chaos would unfold.

  “Wait, wait!” I hurriedly raised my hands, stepping forward before things could escalate. “He’s… invited!” There was a pause.

  Then, slowly, the tension eased, swords lowering, but not before the attaché shot me a glare so sharp it could have filed down steel. Prince Relando, for his part, simply bowed toward me, a smooth, controlled motion, exuding that casual, effortless arrogance that only true royalty could pull off.

  Then he turned, his eyes scanning the gathered crowd, making sure they all saw him clearly. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, before forcing a grin. “Uhm… let me introduce you all to Prince Relando.”

  A few murmurs rippled through the room. The title alone had weight, but most of them were still processing the fact that a royal had just materialized out of thin air. “He’s been helping me the past few days to… gather things,” I added, throwing in just enough vagueness to keep things interesting.

  Then, before he could get too smug about it, I strode down the platform and promptly slapped the back of his head.

  A sharp smack.

  Another round of laughter. Relando gave me a look of pure offense, but I was already turning away, hopping back up to my throne before he could retaliate. With composed dignity, he adjusted his posture before addressing the room.

  “As the princess says, I am temporarily staying with her.” His voice was smooth, perfectly measured, the kind of tone meant to be heard in courts, not battlefields. “Until the battle you all anticipate is finished, I shall remain.” His gaze swept over the gathered crowd, lingering just slightly on the imperial attaché, who was now visibly fuming, though still silent. “After that,” Relando continued, “I hope to depart. But until then…”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  He turned. And walked straight toward Lola. Lola stiffened as he approached, her hands tightening around her parchment, her expression caught somewhere between wariness and confusion.

  Then, with formal precision, Relando stopped in front of her, placed a hand over his chest, and declared, “in the name of my nation, as a prince, I recognize the claim of Princess Charlie.” His voice was measured, ceremonial. “I recognize her as… a pretender.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  In the back of the room, Scamantha had turned, deep in conversation with a young man, but something in their exchange shifted, and suddenly the guy called the guards.

  An argument broke out. As if the chaos in the room had given everyone permission to start causing their own problems, a few other disputes started rising in volume and the entire room erupted into chaos. Some people were shouting at each other, arguing over the meaning of prince’s words, while others were already talking in hushed, frantic whispers, likely trying to figure out how this changed everything.

  I massaged my temples.

  “We’ll continue after we sort this out!” I yelled over the crowd, trying to cut through the noise. That got some people to pause, though most were still engaged in whatever newly-formed debate they had latched onto. “Thank you for your patience!” I added, trying to sound at least halfway sincere.

  Meanwhile

  Lunaris was running.

  I barely caught sight of her weaving through the crowd, but before I could even wonder why—

  I spotted Rob chasing after her. I exhaled sharply through my nose. Had he seriously tried to ask her out the same way he did with me? I didn’t even need an answer.

  I already knew.

  With a long-suffering sigh, I turned back toward Relando and Lola, who were now standing near the table stacked with documents.

  Time to figure out what the hell just happened.

  “Relando,” I said, my voice turning dangerously cold, letting just a hint of Irwen’s authority bleed into my tone. His smug expression didn’t waver, but I saw the slight twitch of his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened just a fraction. “I am not a pretender.”

  Before he could answer, Lola practically vibrated next to me. “Lady, this is a good thing!” she burst out, her tone an absolute contrast to the sheer despair she had been drowning in mere minutes ago.

  I turned, blinking at her sudden enthusiasm. She looked like she had just been handed the Imperial Treasury and told to reorganize it. “You are recognized as a pretender to the Eeleim throne!”

  I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Why is that a good thing?”

  Lola lit up even more. “The bonuses are even better!” Her voice sped up as she practically vibrated with excitement. “And you could be a Queen!”

  Lola leaned in, her eyes gleaming, practically sparkling with ambition. “Irwen is the current Queen of six different kingdoms, right?” she continued, words tumbling over each other. “That means you—” She grabbed a nearby parchment, flipping to a detailed set of notes I hadn’t even seen her write. “You can claim one of those titles for yourself!” She looked up at me, breathless. “Lady, you could be a Queen!”

  Before I could process that insanity, Relando let out a soft, knowing chuckle. “You’re a pretender, truly,” he said, his smile just a bit too pleased with himself. “Since the day I met you.”

  I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms. “Okay, my lovely helpers.” I eyed both of them, leveling them with a pointed stare. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t just declare myself Queen inside the empire, can I?”

  Lola hesitated.

  I raised a brow.

  She sighed. “Duchess first. Then… maybe find land big enough to claim a kingdom.”

  I gestured. “Exactly.”

  But instead of discouragement, I saw something else spark in her eyes—something that made me just a little bit concerned. Determination. Pure, unshakable determination. “We can do it.” Her voice was steady, sure, filled with a kind of conviction I wasn’t sure even I had.

  “As long as you hold the title of princess, we can work toward it.” She straightened her back, standing taller, her quill tapping against the table like a judge’s gavel. “And thanks to Prince Relando’s recognition of your claim, the bonuses for your company and alliance are now doubled.”

  I grinned. I liked this side of her. Without thinking, I stepped forward and hugged her. Lola stiffened. Like, full-on statue mode. I felt the way her shoulders locked, her quill still clutched like a lifeline. Then, awkwardly, she patted my back—once, twice—before I let go.

  I pulled back and smirked. “Lola, you have more ambition than me.”

  Her face flushed deep red. She cleared her throat, straightening her papers in a way that was entirely unnecessary. “I always wanted to be a Kingmaker.” She paused. “Or… Queenmaker.” Another pause. Then, under her breath, as if admitting it was a crime, “I might have… planned for this kind of thing before.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but she was already shaking her head, pivoting back to the prince. “But, sir, how did you even come here?”

  I sighed, reaching over and smacking Relando on the head again.

  A solid thwap.

  He let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing the spot, his expression deeply wounded—as if I had just gravely offended his royal dignity. “This joker is my ring,” I said simply.

  Lola froze mid-note-taking, her quill hovering over the page. She narrowed her eyes. Then she slowly, deliberately, pointed the quill at us. “What do you mean, he is a ring?”

  I grinned. “You see… there was this ring…” I launched into a very vague version of the story, conveniently leaving out some morally questionable details about my acquisitions of wealth.

  Lola listened, her expression shifting from curiosity to bafflement to deep, deep exasperation. By the end of it, she just buried her face in her hands.

  I patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”

  From her muffled groan, I could tell she strongly disagreed.

  “Are the bonuses permanent?” I asked, shifting gears as smoothly as I could. “I mean, can Relando or I take them back?” I leaned forward slightly, arms crossed. “Except for kicking them out of the alliance, of course.”

  Lola let out a slow, practiced breath, the kind she used when dealing with a particularly tedious report. She tilted her head back, her quill tapping lightly against the table, before finally responding. “Yes, they are.” Her tone was steady, but the weight of the answer was clear. “You have one year to somehow become a Countess. Or better—” she met my gaze. “A Duchess or a Queen.”

  I nodded, reaching out to pat her shoulder, feeling the tension coiled beneath her clerk uniform. Then, with a sigh, I turned away, heading back toward the throne. My heels echoed against the stone floor, each step measured, but inside, I was still burning with irritation.

  As I walked, I cast a glare at Relando, my frustration at his royal meddling still very much alive and well. He had the audacity to smirk, as if utterly unbothered by my silent fury. Typical.

  I bit down my annoyance and instead, inhaled deeply, stepping onto the raised platform. Then, I let it rip. “GUYS!” My voice boomed, cutting through the last remnants of scattered conversations. All heads snapped toward me.

  Good.

  My voice carried across the vast chamber. “I will first appoint my personal guards.” My gaze swept over them, picking out the faces I recognized.

  Luminaria, standing near the edge, her arms crossed as she studied me, calculating. NightSwallow, still lounging with her air of detached amusement, but her fingers tapped idly against her belt. Scamantha, who was still half-distracted, but perked up at my words.

  They were watching. Waiting.

  I smirked. Time to reel them in. “After that, I will call on each and every one of you.” I let my gaze drift across the crowd, lingering on guild leaders, lone adventurers, the ones still weighing their choices.

  “And ask—Do you want to join my alliance with your guild?” A few heads tilted, players exchanging glances, calculating the implications. “Or do you want to join my company? Which, in a year, will be turned into something akin to a guild, with me as the guild leader. Both has bonuses, and I will lend you a powerful item as long you are a member.”

  That got their attention. Some leaned forward, others crossed their arms, the wheels already turning. This wasn’t just a call to arms. This was a foundation being laid. “So, let’s begin!”