By day five, Joff was complaining nonstop about horse smell.
"This is inhumane," he groaned dramatically. "My lady, when you become rich, please invent perfume for horses."
"Horses already smell better than you," I replied.
Even the horse snorted in agreement.
Coffi, meanwhile, had fully transformed into a mother hen.
"Drink water! Eat something! Stop picking fights with the raccoon!"
"That raccoon started it!" I protested.
"He looked at you," she deadpanned.
"Yes! With attitude!"
Finally—after a week of emotional trauma, ghost toes, horse perfume petitions, and debating fictional shipwrecks—we arrived near the capital.
Or well… the nearby villages of the capital.
Civilization.
Soup that wasn't cooked over a campfire.
Beds that didn't try to murder my spine.
I swear, I almost cried.
But knowing us?
Chaos was absolutely waiting at the gates.
And… wow. Arriving at the massive stone gate? It was disappointing.
Okay, hear me out.
I expected something grand. Something glowing with magic, glittering towers, golden lampposts, floating platforms—fantasy novel stuff.
Instead…
"This is it?" I whispered.
The guards stiffened, maybe thinking I was being rude, but seriously:
Old cracked stone streets.
Oil lamps that flickered like they were dying of depression.
Buildings that looked like they survived a mild earthquake and never emotionally recovered.
We passed poor districts too—houses patched with wood scraps, thin children running barefoot, people staring at us like travelers from another world.
My excitement deflated like Chubby when someone mentions vegetables.
"This is the capital?" I muttered to Henry.
Henry coughed. "Yes, my lady. The heart of the kingdom and we were far from the palace yet."
"Looks like the liver."
Coffi tried to shush me, but even she was staring out the window with a frown.
Our town—my father's once dying territory—had become cleaner, brighter, livelier. Roads infused with hearthstones. Street lamps powered by mana stones. Markets full of laughter and music. Travelers trading goods. Food stalls on every corner.
Here in the capital?
People moved like their souls had a curfew.
Silence.
Stiffness.
Judgmental stares.
"This is boring," I whispered. "Where are the cute shops? The street snacks? The dance-battle vendors? Anything?"
Joff murmured, "My lady… that's not… that's not a thing anywhere."
"Well, it should be."
Chubby shoved his head into the carriage window. "Do not insult the capital," he said with a snarl. "We are guests."
"So? The capital insulted my eyes first."
He tried to swat me. I slapped him back. Coffi broke us apart with her fan like we were toddlers.
The guards escorting us stared in horror.
Yes.
Welcome to our traveling circus.
And yes—I am supposed to meet the king tomorrow.
What could possibly go wrong?
Anyway, a few more hours later.
Arriving in the capital should've felt grand. Magical. Awe-inspiring.
Instead, it felt like opening a beautifully wrapped gift box and finding… soggy bread.
The only good thing so far?
Leonil's merchant district.
Now that was lively. People shouting prices, vendors juggling fruits, kids chasing each other, stalls overflowing with goods—it reminded me of home. Well… a weaker, sadder echo of it, but still better than the "capital entrance of gloom."
The moment my carriage stopped in front of Leonil's shop, he barreled out like a man possessed.
"Lady Seraphine!" He shoved a tray of cookies into my hands before I could even step down.
Coffi muttered, "Sir Leonil, she just arrived—at least allow her to breathe—"
"No time! No time! The princess wants tea with her tomorrow."
Ah, yes. The princess invitation. The royal summons. The looming headache.
I lifted a cookie to my mouth.
And then Chubby stuck his head out of the carriage—
"Give me one—"
"Nope." I shoved him back inside with one hand and pulled the magical pouch open with the other. "Stay inside. Hide. No peeking. No commentary."
He hissed. "This pouch is humiliating."
"Get in."
With a grumble of cosmic annoyance, he dove inside. The pouch bulged in offended shapes for a moment, then settled.
My guards and Coffi were still sweating nervously.
"I told you," I warned them, "don't mention my shadow companion to anyone. If someone asks, Chubby is my… uh… spirit animal. A rare… spiritual… blessing… creature."
Henry whispered, "My lady, nobody will believe—"
"I am your boss."
"...Yes, my lady."
Good.
Inside the shop, Leonil ushered me to a cushioned seat like I was the crown jewel of his inventory. Cookies, tea, pastries—he even tried fanning me at one point until Coffi glared him into behaving.
"So," he began, "tomorrow is your royal audience. You will attend after you… bathe."
"I bathe regularly."
He sniffed me. "Not to capital standards. You smell like horses and regrets."
I threw a cookie at him. He caught it with his teeth. Asshole.
*****
After that, we decided to stroll around the capital's inner district.
Okay, fine, I'll admit it—the inner capital was beautiful.
Shops with polished windows.
Bakeries smelling like heaven.
Jewelry stores glittering like treasure chests.
Restaurants with long lines.
Healer clinics that looked like miniature temples.
Way better than the depressing outer district.
I was halfway admiring a pastry display when Coffi nudged me hard enough to bruise.
"Hm?" I followed her gaze.
And then I saw him.
Sir Alex.
On horseback, patrolling the market road—or whatever it was knights pretended to do when they were showing off their muscles for the public.
His armor gleamed.
His posture perfect.
His jawline sharp enough to slice bread.
And those biceps…
Oh dear gods. They were definitely bigger than the last time I saw him.
I may have stared. A lot.
Henry quietly muttered, "My lady, please stop drooling."
"I'm not drooling."
"You are. I have a cloth if you need—"
"Shut up."
Sir Alex's eyes swept the crowd, and for a moment—just a second—his gaze flicked toward me. Recognition sparked. His brows lifted slightly.
My heart jumped like Chubby when he sees roasted chicken.
Leonil leaned close and whispered, "Should I go greet him?"
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"…maybe."
Gods. Why was I like this?
Sir Alex slowed his horse, clearly preparing to approach.
I snatched Coffi's fan and covered my face like some mysterious noblewoman in a romance novel.
"Lady Seraphine," Coffi sighed, "he knows who you are."
"Shh. Let me pretend."
The capital may have disappointed me… but this moment?
This moment had potential.