Marcella Tullia Aureamanus, one of the most dangerous people on the continent of Epretos, was smiling kindly and shaking hands with many citizens as she took part in this theatrical display the Human had thought of.

[Princess] Laurealia smiled at the populace of Amorium, all gathered at the Pratus, where the huge ovens from the bakery had been moved, as she used the pastry bag to lay down more Little Princesses to bake. The name, sadly, had caught on like wildfire in a dead forest plagued by hurricanes.

Still, she couldn't help but sneak glances at Aureamanus. The old fox had taken the Human away from her in order not to create chaos and embarrassing situations. The fact that the [Princess] had come to bless Amorium with her presence and stay, and more so the fact that she was collaborating with the Human's bakery, got pinned to Aureamanus.

She didn't know the extent of her family's dealing with the woman, but she knew that even her Royal Father knew better with her—rarely had Laurealia seen the [King] tread just so carefully around someone in private.

Thanks to her skill, [A Duelist's Bounty], she knew that going after the woman would have brought ruin upon her—her, the [Princess] of Epretos and a prodigy.

She had been instructed by her Royal Father not to offend or cause any slight at the bakery, not because they loved Humans that much, but precisely because of this woman. Whatever role the famous Southern [Merchant] played, it was a great one.

Laurealia sighed as she glanced at the Human, completely surrounded, almost swarmed by ex-[Soldiers], homeless cripples, and citizens alike. Joey was flinging the pastry bag around like a [Saber Master] would his blade, rotating it behind his back before laying down more of the sweet dough on the trays.

'An event to make everyone happy.'

That's what the Human had called it. He had engineered an impromptu festival in the middle of Amorium, dead set on wasting several dozens of golds, or perhaps more, in order to buy back the love of the citizens.

Astonishingly - or maybe regrettably - the [Princess] had to admit it was working. How the Human wasn't getting stabbed in the heart by every [Soldier] in attendance was beyond her. If they had really thought he had killed the [Captain], how could their fires be quenched so easily?

"Damned Human, this is too good! Did he really come up with this?!" A [Chef] was tearing up as he bit into a chocolate-filled Éclair.

"It's all him!" An ex-[Soldier] smiled. He, along with some others, were still under their previous [Vows], but since this was not a paid endeavor, they could still help and try what the Hu—Joey had called the 'rehabilitation program.'

"Well, man, this is great. Can I place an order with you? I'd like to serve this as dessert at my restaurant."

Embarrassed, the ex-[Soldier] gently redirected the man to Flavia, the quiet one out of the three fiery sisters the [Princess] had met the day before. The Human's plot kept unabashed, with the normal citizens not even really paying attention to the fact that most of the people here were homeless.

The blonde smiled like a bobcat as she started dealing with the poor [Chef] who had clearly no idea about what his own financials looked like.

He called these ‘delicate like a [Princess],’ Laurealia thought as she kept posing in her new attire. The uniform that had been crafted to go over her armor was full of frills but dignified. In fact, it accentuated her elegance and royal demeanor. A mix of Amorium's traditional design and the unique flair Joey had introduced from his world. The deep blue attire with golden embroidery and the white, frilly apron gave her an air of authority yet approachability, just as a [Princess] working at a bakery should have.

Looking at the man, the fiery woman couldn't help but narrow her gaze and wonder, deep in her heart of hearts, could he be a decent Human?

She looked at her naked hands—she had decided to remove her gauntlets to avoid scaring the citizens of Amorium. Pretenses were one of the most important things for a [Princess].

Still, Laurealia gritted her teeth, once again bothered by the word the Human had associated with her—delicate. After all she had gone through in her life to fight and not live under the shadow of the royal banner, how dare that man call her delicate?

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Her idiotic family clearly had planned this to keep their connection to Aureamanus alive and well. As historical precedent had shown already, the Royal Family was more than ready to give up a [Prince] - or, in this case, a Princess - if it meant keeping the status quo.

How could they, having perused the same exact texts and tutoring they had given her, not hate that despicable race of flat-eared bastards? They insisted on saying that Humans were not a scourge—even after recognizing how morally bankrupt their entire continent was. They were the [Slavers], the most warmongering, the second-most dishonest after Mermaids. Why did her family, then, insist on teaching her not to hate them?

As the [Princess] prepared yet another batch of Éclairs to distribute for free to the people who had now started playing music and dancing just a few yards away, she suddenly found a tall figure looming in front of her.

"Your Highness, darling, how beautiful have you become since I last saw you."

[Princess] Laurealia trembled slightly as she raised her gaze to meet Cornelia Valeria Novafamilia. The noblewoman was wiry and old, but her elegance had remained the same—perhaps, it had actually grown with time, matured.

"[Lady] Valeria," [Princess] Laurealia addressed her by her formal title. "I hope you will spend a nice afternoon here. Am I to prepare some food for you?"

"That would be just delightful," Cornelia smiled sweetly. "May I ask, is this the Human's doing? Is our [Princess] really working for a Human?"

Several Elves in the vicinity suddenly perked up their ears and tried not to stare too intently at the two.

"Oh, my," [Princess] Laurealia said with a locked jaw, "isn't that quite the outrageous proposition, considering that my Royal Father has asked me to help Aureamanus with her business? That is all I am, I fear, a helper."

"Your Highness," Cornelia said among general sighs of relief, "my deepest apologies for the insinuation. It was just confusing, so to say."

"Would you relay a message to the Human then?" Novafamilia smiled as she hunched forward, snatching an Éclair from a tray that had just passed by.

"[Lady] Valeria, I doubt my station makes me fit to be a messenger—"

"But you are helping, aren't you? I want the Human to cater my party for the Day of Blooming. I heard that my granddaughter had invited him, too. I hear that they are bleeding money. What a disgrace for one of Aureamanus's businesses. All considered, and especially now that Your Highness is here, it feels like I have an obligation to help out as much as I possibly can."

Laurealia wondered how many nobles she would have to cut down in a civil war after decapitating this vile woman. But while going over the math of how many heads would need to roll, the [Lady] had already disappeared, lost in the crowd, undoubtedly shadowed by her slick [Guards].

…

I see a growling [Princess] with a deep frown approach me, and I wonder if the guttural sounds aren't perhaps growing on me—heh, it's just that she's too beautiful for one to take to heart the disgusting racism she spits every single time I talk to her.

The crazier the woman, the hotter she gets. And while not all crazy women are hot, all the most beautiful women are certainly a little bit crazy, most likely without the 'little bit' part.

"Cornelia Valeria Novafamilia just asked you to cater the party the Valerii are hosting for the Day of Blooming."

My eyebrows shoot up but before I can ask anything, the [Princess] turns and makes to run away. Without thinking, my arm shoots out, and I grab her forearm.

I see the [Princess] tremble, but she clearly tries to stay calm for the sake of the crowd and leans in toward me, "you have one chance to let me go, or you will lose your arm."

I remove my hold, "sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm just confused. What does this mean? And what are the details? I'm sure she knows we are having trouble with our supplies. An entire party? For how many people? Hundreds? And what are we catering for? All the food or just the cake and desserts?"

"I don't know."

"Heh," I wipe some sweat from my forehead with my sleeve, "I'll make sure we get the information. I'm not going to accept if it's stupidly unreasonable."

"I don't care," Laurealia says, staring straight into my eyes.

"It's okay. I've got enough trouble to deal with already. Just go back to where you were. We clearly work better when we are not close to each other, Your Highness."

"Are you still whining?" Laurealia looks disgusted. "Your life right now, Human, is better than that of many millions of my people. What right do you have to complain about being a [Baker], a [Mage], and a [Warrior] of some kind?"

Hearing those words, I suddenly get triggered.

"It's none of your business," I reply angrily. I look around us – there are enough ex-[Soldiers] to provide cover from the eyes of the citizens. "I talked to you before because I was making a conversation, [Princess]. But I'm not in the mood to hear you talk shit about my life, ok?"

"Or what?" Laurealia growls. "What are you going to do? Do you want me to punch your teeth out, Human? Would you like to learn what it means to duel someone who has actually trained? You think that beating a poisoned bastard in the arena with that big sword of yours makes you, what, a Vanedeni [Hero]?"

Before I could reply, Laurealia shifted her stance, and I can feel an intense sense of danger in the back of my head, and I immediately raise my hands, ready to fight.

But Stan suddenly appears between us, almost as if he has just teleported there, holding one of our arms and frowning angrily.

"You two green idiots, I need a word with you. NOW."