It was surprising how quickly things were moving now. Within moments, the guard returned with a man who looked like someone important.

No armor, no insignia, just fine, tailored clothing that could’ve easily matched the wealthiest of merchants I’d seen outside the fort. He moved with purpose, his footsteps confident. As he approached, he bowed low—his movement as fluid as those wishing to impress a girl at the bar.

“Good evening, miss,” he greeted, his voice smooth. “May I see your ring?”

Of course, I couldn’t just stand there, not after that bow. My body, trained for moments like this, responded before my brain could catch up. I curtsied, a small but practiced dip, and extended my hand for him to examine the ring. I let it catch the light just so.

Since when did I know how to curtsy?

It felt natural now, but I couldn’t help but be unsettled. Was it something I picked up during questing in the palace? Or…?

The man, noticing the flicker of my hesitation, smiled warmly but didn’t let it distract him. Like the elite imperial guard, he cast a spell over the ring. A flash of arcane energy, and then his eyes flicked from the ring to my tiara. He paused for a moment too long, really looking at my clothes now, as if noticing something more than he had at first glance.

A stunned silence fell over him. His mouth went slack for a moment before he quickly regained his composure. “Confirmed.”

As he said that, the guard who refused my entry, with a suddenness that made the man flinch, dropped to one knee. “Lady Charlie, I beg for forgiveness!” she said, her voice sincere.

I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and discomfort. This is getting ridiculous, I thought, even so, I had to smile.

“Oh, bummer,” the prince commented in my head, his tone dripping with mock exasperation. “I suppose you’re really a good pretender.”

I shot a mental glare at the prince, not exactly thrilled with how things were playing out, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, I let out a soft sigh and waved my hand dismissively at the guard. “Rise, please. There’s no need for that. I commend you for dutifully guarding.”

“Lady, welcome to East Klippe! I’m the imperial attaché here,” the man said with a polished bow. “Imperial Doan-Commander Mila will be glad to finally meet you. He was…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say, he’s been growing nervous, thinking you weren’t interested in…” He shook his head as if brushing away the thought. “Better for him to explain. If I may?” He gestured ahead, inviting me to follow.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied with a polite smile. But before moving, I turned back toward the guard who’d initially barred my way. She was still standing stiffly, trying to blend into the background.

“What’s your name?” I asked, keeping my tone light but curious as her status popped up in my peripheral view.

[Guard Lv.10]

Type: 1-common | HP: 173/173

“Alma, Lady,” she said, bowing deeply again.

I tilted my head slightly, scanning her over. She was low level and her title was common—standard for the rank-and-file.

Maybe I could do something about that?

My thoughts drifted to the palace’s many guard rooms, always filled with soldiers bustling about, but one detail stood out: my quarters had no dedicated guard.

“I don’t have anyone guarding my office when I’m there,” I said thoughtfully, my gaze briefly lingering on her armor. It was well-maintained—she clearly took her obligations seriously. “How would you feel about becoming my personal guard?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she seemed too stunned to respond.

The attaché, however, wasn’t having it. His professional demeanor cracked just slightly as irritation bled into his voice. “The Lady asked you a question! You should be grateful she’s offering rather than commanding you! Now answer!”

Alma immediately dropped to one knee, her voice trembling. “Yes, Lady! I swear—”

“Not now, not here,” I interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. Even I knew the protocol for such ceremonies, and this wasn’t the time or place for it. Was she living under a rock? “There’s a proper time and setting for these things. We’ll do it right when the moment comes. For now, let’s keep moving.”

Speaking like a noble is stupid. I wanna curse.

Bleh.

She hesitated for half a beat before rising, her face flushed with embarrassment but also a flicker of pride.

As we began walking, the attaché’s steps were sharper than before, his annoyance clear. I caught him shooting Alma a glare as if her earlier hesitation had personally offended him.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Relax,” I said to him, keeping my tone casual but firm. “She’s fine. A little overwhelmed, maybe, but who wouldn’t be?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, but nodded. “Of course, Lady. Shall we continue?”

I followed him inside, Alma trailing behind us like a shadow.

The fort was enormous, but its design gave me a weird sense of familiarity. It was as if the walls whispered secrets I already knew, like the stools after the tenth whiskey.

The empire’s obsession with standardized designs clearly extended further than I thought—so much so that I intuitively knew where to go.

Even the attaché seemed surprised when I stopped at a fork in the corridor and pointed confidently down the left path. “I believe the ruler’s office is this way.”

He blinked at me, visibly taken aback. “You must have been to imperial forts before!” His tone shifted from formal to impressed, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I have,” I said with a small nod, letting my lips curve into a sweet smile. “I dabbled in the imperial military and studied the art of war.” The statement was technically true, though probably not in the way he imagined. The Battle of the Northern Insurgency had taught me more about strategy and fort logistics than any school could have.

“Splendid!” His sudden enthusiasm felt almost comical as he gave a short, respectful bow. “Then it seems my guidance is unnecessary. Do you require my assistance?”

I shook my head politely, and his mood visibly brightened. “Very well, Lady. I’ll attend to my duties elsewhere,” he said, pivoting gracefully and disappearing down the opposite hallway.

“Well, Alma, let’s go, I guess,” I said, letting my tone dip into the casual as I opened the friend’s window. The blinking mess of notifications was practically screaming for attention, and it was time to face the chaos. Alma whispered something under her breath, but I didn’t catch it as I began scrolling.

Requests. Thousands of them.

“You finally ditched that snob,” the prince chimed in, his tone interweaved with smug satisfaction. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Talking back to him in front of Alma would only make me look… unhinged. Instead, I focused on the person I actually needed.

Ah, there!

[L0la wants to add you as a friend.]

[Charlie] Lola! Sowy for leaving so abruptly!

[L0la] Thanks for adding me. It is no problem.

[Charlie] Yup! ^^ If you are near the fort ask for me

[L0la] Will be there shortly.

I should stop writing like this... But it’s so fun!

With that sorted, I closed the window and turned my attention back to the fort. As expected, the ruler’s office was smack in the center. What I wasn’t expecting was the bizarre architectural choice: the inner walls were polished white stone, a blunt contrast to the rough gray of the outside.

Weird. Definitely something to ask Lucas about later.

“Here we go,” I said with a grin, pushing open the door. Alma followed closely, her expression neutral, though her eyes darted around, taking in every detail.

I, on the other hand, let out an uncontrollable giggle. If the Northern Duke saw this, his head would pop clean off like a bottle cork.

The room was as barebones as it got. A single basic window overlooked the sandieu hanh—the parade ground we all called it. The kind of place where commanders and nobles observed hold in the offices, silently judging your every step.

At least it wasn’t the obstacle course.

There was no vanity, no luxury whatsoever. Just two functional tables with uncomfortable-looking chairs and an overwhelming sense of meh. And of course, a closet full of paperwork.

“Well,” I said, turning to Alma with a casual smirk, “this is… underwhelming.”

“Sorry, Lady,” Alma said quickly, her tone defensive. “We just—”

I held up a hand to stop her and plopped down on the chair at the main table. Positioned right in front of the window, it had the advantage of blinding any visitors who dared face me directly.

“I know,” I said with a sigh, leaning back. “Well, I was the one who asked for this, remember?” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Could you fetch someone to deliver news around?”

“You mean… a messenger?” Alma asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

“Exactly! Or just someone I can order around,” I joked, though the way she took it at face value made me regret it immediately.

It’s going to take a while to get used to this.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” I muttered to myself, shifting in the uncomfortable chair. As Alma left, I returned to the endless stream of friend requests, methodically declining them while keeping an eye out for any names that might stand out.

The first two hundred? Completely ordinary players. Random adventurers, traders, and farmers. Or maybe they were secretly powerhouses in disguise—but honestly, who could remember them all?

Finally, a name caught my attention: Luminaria.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. The Lightning Prodigy herself… or she will be.

If my memory served, her family was one of Rimelion’s powerhouses. All top-tier players, the kind you didn’t mess with unless you had a death wish.

All famous.

Despite Luminaria being one of the best lightning mages, she wasn’t even the strongest mage in her family. That led to… well, that infamous Rime-con scandal in ten years or so.

Maybe I could help her avoid that? I mused, my fingers hovering over the accept button. Let’s help. I pressed it and, as if summoned, there was a sharp knock on the door.

“Yes?” I called out.

“Lady, I have found them!” Alma’s voice was bright with excitement as she strode in, accompanied by two young men and a woman. They looked a little nervous, but stood at attention, clearly ready for whatever was about to happen.

“Ah, messengers.” The lowest rank in the imperial military here. Barely above recruits. They all looked eager, though.

“Okay, give me a second.” I motioned for Alma to step closer. “We have a quartermaster, right?”

“Yes, Lady,” she said with a bow.

“Great.” I waved her toward the door. “Wait outside and guard the door. Oh, and Alma?” I smiled, leaning back in my chair. “Consider yourself officially the head of my personal guard.”

Her face went through a range of emotions—shock, disbelief, and then something akin to pride. She bowed again, this time lower than before. “Yes, Lady! Thank you!”

[Alma Lv.10]

Type: 3-rare | HP: 201/201

It worked! A succes!

“Good. Now go guard,” I said, making a shooing motion. She hesitated for a moment, then turned and disappeared into the hallway.

As for the three recruits, they stood stiffly, waiting for orders. Their wide eyes reminded me of fresh academy grads I got to yell at as a sergeant.

“Right,” I said, rising slightly from my chair and scanning them, fetching supplies from the closet. “Please wait a moment—I need to draft some letters.”

“Yes, Lady!” they all yelled in unison, so loudly my ears rang.

“Okay, let’s tone it down a notch,” I said, wincing slightly. “I’m not deaf—yet.”

They fumbled over themselves to apologize, and I just shook my head with a small smile, settling back into the chair. This is going to be interesting.