Night.
Silas didn't go to watch the horses; he was summoned to the Lord's office.
"Princess Eliza seems to have taken a liking to you."
Count Flores sat on the sofa, picking up a piece of parchment. "I looked at your registration info. Your hometown is in the far East. Were you a groom there as well?"
"..."
Silas deliberated for a moment. "No. Actually, I learned other skills from my father. I just didn't think they were prestigious enough to mention."
Passing off his swordsmanship as a skill from his "homeland" should be fine.
"I don't care if you committed a crime in the East or not. Since Princess Eliza hasn't pursued it, I won't either."
"So, why didn't you join the Princess's Royal Guard?"
"..."
"I once held a profession similar to a knight in my hometown, but I eventually found it didn't suit me."
Silas lied through his teeth.
"Why?"
The Lord seemed interested, leaning his obese body slightly forward.
"...I'm afraid of death."
"Haha, you are honest at least. Indeed, if you go to the battlefield, no matter how exquisite your swordsmanship is, you never know when you'll die."
The Lord's smile faded as he narrowed his eyes. "I heard from Princess Eliza that you are interested in becoming a merchant?"
"Yes."
Silas admitted it directly.
"Isn't being a merchant also a lowly status? You think it's better than the Knight Order?"
The Lord shook his head. "Well, your hometown must be different from mine. In what way can you make me money?"
"Well... since I mostly stay in the stables, my ideas are quite vague right now. But I do have a suggestion regarding the stables."
"Speak."
"First, your stables are open to both nobles and common merchant caravans, attracting a lot of clients. The ability to generate more revenue is what sets you apart from other nobles."
"..."
"But because you accept so many clients, the stables have become chaotic. High-quality horses and low-quality horses are mixed together. There's no obvious distinction other than the fodder and the stalls."
"Are you saying I should spend more money so the high-quality horses live better?"
"No. It doesn't require much cost, just some details. For example, the wagons delivering fodder for the high-quality horses should look more luxurious. The premium stalls should be clearly marked as 'VIP.' And I also thought of something else: every time a noble comes to test a horse, they might struggle to stop it due to space limits. You could add wooden posts wrapped in padding to help them decelerate."
"Posts in the paddock? That might hurt the guests, but... if placed outside the city, it would show that my territory is wealthy and well-managed. That's a good idea."
The Lord toyed with his teacup, glancing at Silas.
He was sharp as a tack. He knew Silas was intentionally making minor "mistakes" to let the Lord correct them, giving him face.
He originally thought the Princess was joking when she mentioned him, but with this level of social finesse... he actually wanted this kid.
"I can put you in charge of the stable business. It's a waste to let you remain just a groom."
"..."
Is it happening?
Can I finally sleep in a room without horse manure and straw every night?
"However, I have another favor to ask of you. Once this is done, besides the stable business, I will give you another reward."
"..."
Damn it, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.
"Do you understand the consequences of refusing Princess Eliza's invitation? Even if she is broad-minded and didn't punish you."
"I am very sorry."
Silas figured the matter was probably over.
That girl felt more like a sheltered little girl who hadn't seen the "real world."
"You've probably heard that on the main road outside town, a merchant caravan was raided recently. Along with the escorting knights, about twenty people were wiped out. Since we are close to the border, both the Church and the Capital take this very seriously."
"..."
But what does this have to do with me doing business?
"I want you to temporarily join my private guard. Go and solve this matter ahead of schedule. I don't want a mere group of mountain bandits affecting the reputation of Flores City."
The Lord didn't just decide this because Silas was good with a sword.
He saw that Silas and the Princess might actually get along. If he solved this early, it would prevent the conflict between the Church and the Capital from manifesting here, while secretly pleasing the Princess. He wouldn't offend either side.
This kid is lucky; even the Lord found him likable... likable enough to catch the Princess's eye. Though it might just be a fleeting curiosity, he could serve as a bridge to the Royal Family.
"Huh? Me?"
Silas was stunned.
"If you can't even handle a group of bandits, how can I trust you to manage a merchant caravan later?"
"..."
He wanted to curse.
I literally just said I'm afraid of death and don't want to be a knight.
Everything comes full circle. Everywhere you go, as long as there are people, you can't escape the boss's "empty promises."
"The choice is yours. If you want to please the Princess before she returns to the Capital, you can do that too."
"...Understood. When do we leave?"
"You'll be notified before we depart."
"..."
Do I have no human rights? Apparently not.
But the Lord's "pie"... I should probably be able to eat it, right?
I won't be alone in culling bandits. I have some strength now; at least self-preservation shouldn't be an issue.
The Stables.
Late at night, when everything was quiet, the Princess snuck in again.
Compared to the daytime, she had changed into inconspicuous dark clothing.
"How did things go with Count Flores?"
She asked.
"...Thank you."
Regardless of how it happened, he had to thank her for the quick chance to move up.
"That's good. At least he gave some face to a 'fallen' Princess like me."
"..."
If she counts as "fallen," what am I, lying in a stable watching horses? A maggot?
"Tell me more about the 'Hero and the Dragon' story."
"Once upon a time, there were seven dwarfs. They were seven heroes..."
"You're just making this up from the dwarf story you told yesterday."
"..."
Ever since he softened up that day and took her out, their relationship seemed to be escalating fast.
Now he felt that it wasn't just the high Charisma points working; she seemed genuinely obsessed with him.
Fallen royalty? A marginalized Princess?
Well, if he could gain a more respectable status, it might not be impossible.
"And then? Did Snow White pick up the legendary sword to kill the dragon?"
She seemed to have no sense of personal space at all. The curves wrapped in her clothes pressed against Silas's arm.
"..."
"Why did you stop? Huh? Why... why are you looking at me like that?"
"Princess Eliza, your breasts are pressing too close."
"..."
Visibly, her face began to flush bright red. But she didn't pull away; if anything, that softness pressed a bit harder.
"?!"
Silas couldn't hold back; he pushed her down into the haystack.
Seeing her panicked look, he immediately cooled down. Making such a rash decision... would lead to misfortune.
"Sorry, Princess Eliza. You should go back."
"..."
She didn't speak, just silently climbed up. "But... the story isn't finished."
"..."
In the silence, Silas felt a light, airy kiss left on his cheek.
How am I supposed to endure this?
I've already raised her favorability to this level. Even if my current strength isn't enough, what is there to fear after another simulation?
The scope of my "wealthy lady" list should open up—look toward the top.
He immediately returned the gesture with a deep, passionate French kiss.
"Hah..."
"Then you... by doing this, do you plan to become my personal knight?"
She was panting heavily. Her clothes at her chest were a bit disheveled from being kneaded. Her face was flushed, but she asked in a small voice.
"I'll consider it. Perhaps more than just a personal knight."
Silas thought that culling the bandits might be his starting point. With merits, he wouldn't just be someone clinging to her legs. Her parents would also be more approving.
"...Then, will the story continue?"
"If I keep talking, I won't be able to control myself."
"!"
She scrambled up instantly, straightening her clothes. "I'm going back to sleep!"
"..."
He felt like it wasn't going to be that much trouble.
The heavy emotions in the simulation were fine, but something normal... wasn't it also quite nice? No training, no life-or-death struggles.
Why not go all-in just once! If I lose, the worst that happens is I pack my bags and run.
It's just that, after touching those massive tits for the first time in a long while, his "son" couldn't settle down. He should have let her help just now.
Forget it.
He used a pitchfork to practice his sword moves. How can one spend their life only thinking about tits? First form of the sword style: The Great Tit Strike!
[Time remaining until next simulation: 02 hours, 45 minutes, 23 seconds]
I can start a new one soon.