The fat man had just returned the money he'd extorted that morning—but Sora knew he had more. After leading them far enough from Louise's sight, he shoved the man into a narrow alley and pressed his sword to the back of his neck.
"If you value your life," Sora said coldly, "hand over every coin you've hidden."
"I—I don't have any money!" the man stammered, sweat dripping down his flushed face.
Sora smirked darkly. Delphlinka's blade pressed a fraction deeper, the steel grazing skin. "Try lying again," he said, moving the edge just slightly so the fat man could feel its icy bite.
The man's knees buckled. This knight wasn't one of those self-righteous nobles who spoke in fancy words about honor and grace. He was someone who would do something. Horrified, the man broke at once. "I'll show you! I'll take you there, just—just don't kill me!"
Before long, Sora had stripped him of every hidden stash he possessed—over ten thousand gold coins, the spoils of years of dirty dealings. A perfect day's work, and Sora hadn't spent a single coin.
He grinned to himself as he walked away. It's almost too easy. If they're all this rich and this stupid, I should find a few more to rob.
He didn't keep the cash on him, of course. In the royal capital, he deposited the gold at the city's main gold bank. The clerk handed him a stack of stamped invoices that he could use to withdraw funds later.
"Storage fee?" Sora asked, raising a brow.
"Five percent, sir," the teller said cheerfully.
"Five percent just to hold my money?" He sighed, paying it anyway. "Guess I'm not rich enough to complain yet."
Once the funds were safely stored, Sora slung the now-wealthless, sulking collector over his shoulder and marched back to the palace.
The guards at the gate recognized him immediately. "Sir Sora, welcome. Here again?"
"I need to see Princess Anrietta," he said simply, dumping the man at their feet. "This is the person she ordered me to arrest."
The guards exchanged a glance—one went inside to report while the other stood watch.
A few minutes later, the Princess's personal knight appeared and escorted Sora and his prisoner to the familiar side hall.
Princess Anrietta sat gracefully on her elevated stone seat, her posture refined as always. "Sora, my knight," she said, tilting her head slightly. "What brings you before me today?"
Her tone was distant yet warm—a Queen in training, trying to sound composed.
"You asked me to investigate the nobles exploiting the people," Sora said, nodding toward the pudgy man kneeling before her. "Here's one of them."
"Speak," he ordered, voice low.
The man trembled and bowed. "Y–Your Highness, I am Qiu Liannu, your humble tax collector…" He launched into a pitiful story, leaving out the name of the minister he worked for and, of course, the money Sora had confiscated. He painted himself as a man forced into wrongdoing under threat, begging for mercy.
Anrietta listened silently, her face unreadable. When he had finished, she lowered her gaze sadly.
"This kingdom has rotted far deeper than I feared," she whispered. Then, straightening, she raised her voice. "Agnès, strip him of his title. Dismiss him from service and imprison him for a week."
"Yes, Your Highness," said the female knight, stepping forward to seize the criminal.
Qiu Liannu actually looked relieved to be leaving Sora's sight alive.
When the door closed behind them, Sora smiled faintly and turned to the Princess. "Well, that's one less problem in the kingdom. How do you plan to thank me, Your Highness?"
Anrietta raised an eyebrow, half amused. "And how would you like to be thanked?"
Sora pretended to think deeply, placing a finger against his chin. "Hmm… a promotion would feel too transactional, and money sounds vulgar." He looked up, feigning solemnity. "So, I think I'll take a kiss instead, Princess."
She blinked, caught off guard. "A kiss?"
He stepped closer, smiling just enough for mischief to show.
After a long pause, she exhaled softly and extended a hand. "Loyalty deserves reward," she said, her voice calm. "You may kiss my hand."
Sora grasped it gently—then, with one swift movement, pulled her forward and into his arms.
"Wait—Sora—"
He didn't wait. His lips caught hers before the word could finish. Her protest melted into a muffled hum as he deepened the kiss.
Anrietta's eyes widened; his warmth, his boldness—it was overwhelming. When she tried to pull away, his hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her lightly but firmly. She felt herself responding before she could think why. The kiss stretched on, slow and feverish, until breath itself seemed to dissolve between them.
When Sora finally let go, her face was flushed crimson.
"Mm," he said with a grin. "You taste wonderful, Anrietta."
For an instant, she nodded without thinking—then she came to her senses and stepped back, flustered. "That's—not what I meant," she said faintly, but the authority in her voice was gone. She looked more like a startled girl than a ruler.
"Well," she managed, straightening her posture, "you may leave now."
Sora gave a mock bow. "Until next time, my Princess."
He touched his lips with one finger and blew her a teasing kiss before turning away.
Anrietta, unable to meet his gaze, turned aside quickly.
Sora's laughter echoed down the hall as he left.
Louise's familiar, bold enough to kiss a princess—truly incorrigible, she thought, pressing a hand to her still-burning cheek. And yet… there was a strange flutter in her chest.
Back at the Fairy Pavilion, the maids greeted Sora warmly the moment he returned.
Louise sat at a table surrounded by them, chin high and eyes sparkling as she proudly recounted her good deeds—how she and Jessica had returned the stolen gold, how grateful the townsfolk had been. She puffed out her chest so much that Sora half-expected her to grow a tail and wag it behind her.
He chuckled under his breath. She probably left Jessica to handle all the counting while she stood there giving heroic speeches.
"Haot—uh, Sora! Listen to this!" Louise said, spotting him. She beamed, waving him over like a child eager for praise.
Sora smiled faintly and listened to her enthusiastic storytelling, nodding and interjecting now and then.
Jessica stood close by, laughing softly—her voice low and sultry, her neckline making its own quiet statement every time she moved.
After some wine and light conversation, Sora left the group and stepped into the back room where the tax collector's former men were still being held. Their wands had been confiscated and lay stacked on a table. Sora picked one up—a rough wand, poorly crafted, nothing like Louise's or Tomoji Ren's refined pieces. Cheap magic, good for only basic spells before it blew apart.
With a splash of cold water, he woke them.
The men blinked awake, paling as they recognized him.
"You were serving that fat coward," Sora said calmly. "He's been stripped of his title. Which means you're unemployed."
They exchanged uneasy looks, fear crawling back into their faces.
"I'll give you two choices," Sora continued. "One—I send you all to rot in prison. Two…"
They looked up at him, wary but hopeful.
"You work for me. You'll get bed and board, a monthly salary, and protection. But you'll serve loyally, without question."
It didn't take long. They nodded quickly, all too eager to agree.
"You're smart men," Sora said, smiling faintly as he cut their ropes and helped them up. "Stay here at the inn. Gather information around the city and handle any trouble that arises. If something serious happens, find me at the Tristain Academy of Magic. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord!" they chorused, bowing deeply.
Sora nodded, handed back their wands, and scribbled a quick check for five hundred gold. "That's your pay for this month. Don't waste it."
"Thank you, sir! We'll work hard!" said the leader, clutching the check like treasure.
He brought them downstairs and spoke with the innkeeper. The boss was hesitant at first, but Sora pointed out that the men could serve as guards and handymen. By the time he finished explaining, the man's eyes practically shone with delight.
"Cheap security that scares away troublemakers? Brilliant!" he said, clapping his hands.
Leaving them to sort out details, Sora went back to the lounge. Louise sat playing cards with the maids, cheerful and animated, her laughter bright and unrestrained.
He sat nearby, resting an arm on the back of the chair, watching her fondly.
A calm afternoon, good food, no blood on the blade, and Louise smiling next to me, he thought. Not a bad life at all.