Stan's deep eyes seem to harbor the weight of many lifetimes; they have the look of a man who'd walked countless miles on a road paved with decisions and consequences. "When I relinquished the throne," he begins, the room hanging onto his every word, "it was an admission that perhaps there were those better suited to lead than me. To shape the future, not just for the Royal Family, but for our people. I might not have been able to sculpt them into ideal rulers, but I laid the groundwork. I mentored Vespasianus's sister and imparted to her my wisdom and experience, hoping it would guide her to be the leader I never could be. Over time, our lineage has worked tirelessly to establish harmony and prosperity, and in many ways, this legacy can be traced back to my decision to place judgment in the hands of those more capable than me."

His gaze meets mine, earnest and searching. "And now, Joey, I pass a similar decision onto you. I’m entrusting you to discern who is deserving enough to lead the next generation of [Druids]. You possess a keen ability to read a person’s heart. And those who've walked beside you have witnessed firsthand that not all Humans are to be maligned."

Dumbfounded, I stare at the ancient being before me. A myriad of emotions surges within my heart. "This... this is a lot," I admit, my voice almost trembling. "If you'd asked me this a while ago, I'd have just said you were crazy and that I… that I'm just a Baker, even though just one with the Capital B. But I can grasp the enormity of… well, maybe I don't, but I try to understand why it's so important... especially if you consider how many people could benefit from the magical wheat. Plus, the wheat is only the first step. What happens if we can produce more magical food? Could we cure disease with it?"

A sudden clarity, perhaps an aftershock of Magister Mulligan's spell, sparks within me, illuminating an idea that has eluded me until now. My thoughts race, leading me to Flaminia.

"Stan, you are responsible for a genocide," I say, "I don't know how one comes back from that."

Stan nods, his gaze unwavering. "My heart was poisoned a long time ago, Joey. My soul has been stained by choices I can never erase. But understand this – I've been dormant, choosing not to interfere because I feared my judgment was still clouded. The very fact that I'm standing here, extending this trust to you, is testament to my belief in your righteousness. Otherwise, you'd still be rotting in that cell."

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I exhale slowly, "You've put me in quite the position, Stan. And while I appreciate your trust in me, it doesn't change the cards you’ve just dealt me."

"You must do what your heart tells you," Stan says.

Drawing a breath, I summon the power of [Deep Focus]. It's like plunging into the depths of my consciousness, sifting through memories and sentiments. Among the myriad thoughts, one rises prominently—a fleeting reflection from yesterday.

How long has it been since the last time I prayed for my mother?

"You know, judgment will be passed on you the day you die, Stanimal. In fact, tell you what, I don't really know anyone who suffered for your actions—they are all long gone, aren't they? So, personally, I just… forgive you. That's the best I can do, Stanimal. Also, we already have one Tiberius. It would be confusing to have another one."

I smile and extend my hand to him. Stan looks at me with a blend of emotions in his eyes, a glint of hope, a shroud of regret, and a spark of resolve. He shakes my hand.

"Stan, I believe you have the power to turn things around, not just for yourself, but for the many lives that could be touched by what's been lost—magical wheat could improve many lives. We live in a world of magic, but I don't see people really benefiting from it much. So... remember, for the sake of our collaboration, it's not about you anymore. It's about them," I point outside at the bustling mess of Amorium, where hunger and despair still grasp at the hearts of many. "We’ve got people with [Vows] that don't let them even work themselves out of debt. We’ve got slums and a bunch of Elves still hating on each other and on Humans. There's a bunch of things we need to take care of. It will be hard, but perhaps you'll have a lighter heart one day."

"And about your proposition... I'll think about who's best for the role," I finally say, meeting his earnest gaze.

On the side, [Princess] Laurealia's frown runs deep.

…

I sit at a table with one of the most beautiful Elves I've ever seen for the second time in two days. Stan, with a very convincing tone, asked for us to work out an agreement to live in peace in the bakery.

"How long do you think your parents will have you stay here?" I ask.

"My ancestor's presence might warrant my own for… a long time," Laurealia growls, then looks back at the door Stan just went out through.

"Heh, don’t worry, I won't tell anyone," I say, trying to assuage some unspoken worry.

"I'm not worried about that. My ancestor is… wise. I'm just…"

"What?"

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Laurealia slowly turns to me, looking at the table between us.

"[Queen] Mirtilla, Vespasianus's sister… she wasn't…" the [Princess] looks back at the door again.

"She wasn't what? A racist?"

"After [King] Tiberius 'died' in battle against the Humans, she enacted many racial laws," the [Princess] speaks with a hint of confusion.

"Huh, progressive ones?"

She looks deeply at me before shaking her head.

"No."

…

"How is it going?" Flaminia basically tackles me as soon as I exit the shopfront of Aurora's Bakery. The [Princess] smiles and walks ahead as the pink-haired Elf keeps me rooted in place.

But I have to say, I've not been the happiest with Flaminia’s behavior – that's why I shove her inside the bakery to have another private conversation.

"Hey! I thought you had a girlfriend," Flaminia teases me, "did you finally see the [Light]?"

"It's not funny," I say, closing the door behind me. "Tell me, have you lost your goddamn mind? Why did you do that with Irene? Flam, I know you liked Plinius, but it was her brother."

"What does it matter to her?" Flaminia gave me a deadpan. "Brother? Joey, I love how you care for that green-eared woman, but she's a mess. Plinius was a mess as well, but he was trying to do better."

"I—I know. I got a…" I bite my lip, not sure whether I should tell Flaminia about the letter. Plinius didn’t mention her in the letter at all. I'm not sure she would take that well. "Let's just say that I know. But Irene's mad with grief right now."

"Death is more common than you imagine," Flaminia says flatly. "She was always mad, just with a different excuse."

"Ok, explain it to me in very plain terms. Why do you hate Irene?"

Flaminia just crosses her arms, and I must admit, I can smell something I really don't like about this. Sadly, it's something that would require [Threading Mind] for me to figure out.

Why?

Because this is clearly a woman's issue.

"Flam, help me out. Please, vocalize whatever perceived slight you might have had because I swear I'm lost."

"She's just not good for you," Flaminia snaps back.

"Ok, you are not interested in me anymore, right?" I say, taking out a truth stone right as she answers.

"No, but—HEY!"

"Alright, you were telling the truth," I say, looking at the truth-stone.

"I could have you jailed for that, you green-eared piece of—"

"Yes, malarky, infamousness, villainy. Now, onto the next question," I say, holding up the truth-stone unapologetically. "Do you like Irene as a… like, as a potential partner?"

"WHAT?! NO!"

Green again.

Alright, we are getting somewhere.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

"Do you care to tell me what it is without us having to waste any more time?"

"Do you know why Irene's so jealous of Lucinda?" Flaminia asks, looking straight into my eyes.

"No," I say, and a flash of red coming from my palm catches my eyes. "Are you kidding me?"

"Joey, what's my name?" Flaminia asks.

I cringe as I look at the woman, "Heisenberg?"

"What? No. My full name, Joey."

"Right, er… Flaminia Lemonia?"

"Flaminia Lemonia Amata," Flaminia says. "I have been chased by many prospects many times. I have been chased by married men, by men who had professed their love to a girl the day before meeting me. I know men. I know what you are doing."

"Yeah? What am I doing?" I ask with a frown, putting the truth-stone away before it can do more damage.

"You don't like Irene. You will never love Irene," Flaminia says with a smile. "You like Lucinda, don't you?"

"Irene was there for me when I was in jail, Flaminia."

"You are not denying it," Flaminia says, this time taking out a truth-stone of her own. "And not only can you not deny it, but Irene, deep down, knows it as well. You gave that woman the only purpose in her life that was just hers. You gave her chocolate, Joey. Now, she can do something that is hers. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I understand what you are saying, not what you are implying."

The truth-stone flashes green under Flaminia's watchful eyes.

"Ok, let me put it this way then: you gave Irene a new life. She felt obligated to be with you in jail. Don't you think that obligation is still looming over her head?"

"Excuse me?"

"Joey, you are not stupid. You and Irene should have never—"

"Flaminia, why do you think you can talk about my relationship with my girlfriend? Have I ever given you the impression I wanted to hear your thoughts?"

"I don't care," Flaminia says, shrugging. "You have been ruining your life since the day you came out of the Dungeon. When was the last time you enjoyed your time here? When was the last time you felt truly happy? You think no one noticed you have been working yourself to death? Now, I don't care about your magic and fighting, Joey. I really don't. But I can see you in the bakery. Today was perhaps the first time in a while I've seen you even remotely happy. And tell me, would you have been happier if Lucinda had been here?"

I open my mouth, trying to refute the argument, but then I look at the truth-stone, "Lucinda's good company. It doesn't mean I have a thing for her. In fact, you are good company. It doesn't mean I have a thing for you, does it?"

"Irene's crazy jealous of Lucinda, though, not me," Flaminia smiles.

"So what? She knows I have no interest in you—"

"And you just admitted you have an interest in Lucinda," Flaminia’s smile grows even wider.

"Why do you want to break us up, Flam?" I ask, tired. "Why don't you want to see me with Irene?"

Flaminia steps close to my face and looks deep into my eyes, "it's not fair, Joey. To neither of you. But while I don't particularly care about Irene, you are the reason I have golden skills. You are the reason the ex-[Soldiers] work with us now, building new lives, having fun. And it's not fair that you're not doing the same. You're stuck. You're punishing yourself for some reason. And I really don't know why."

"I'm not punishing myself," I sigh, looking at the truth-stone that flashes green. "I'm just… I like Irene."

The truth-stone turns green.

"But you don't love her," Flaminia says plainly. "She's a good person, Joey. But this is wrong. You deserve to be happy. And as your friend, I won't ever lie to you. I'm doing my best to be a good person—a good friend. And no one else will tell you the hard truth."

I look at her and nod slowly, "ok, I'll accept that you want to give me advice. Whether or not I'll take it and listen to it is up to me, though. So, can we drop this for now? There is something else we need to discuss. Something important. It's about Antoninus's mother."

"Sure," she replies with a sigh, shaking her head. "But… what happened with the [Princess]? She was smiling when she walked out of here. I thought she hated you."

"We worked out a good deal," I reply with a wink, "and we're diving into the Dungeon as soon as we're done here."