Chapter 4: Finding His Royal Sneakiness

I never imagined my journey outside Olfea would be like this. Losing everything dear to me—so suddenly, without warning, without explanation.

Fuck... I didn’t even have time to adjust, to cry out to the Sky and ask, Why?

There’s no turning back now. Olfea is behind me, reduced to ashes, and I’ve already put enough distance between us that looking back feels pointless. It still doesn’t feel real—like I’m trapped in some fever dream, waiting to wake up and find myself back home. Back to learning from Nero, helping him at the shop.

But that life is gone. All that remains is my lizard—Azryllith.

I’ve taken to calling her Azry because it sounds better. She doesn’t seem to mind. Or, at least, I assume she doesn’t.

Since giving me her name, she’s been quiet. Silent like a mouse. I wish she’d talk to me—say anything—to break this thick, suffocating silence between us. But she doesn’t. So I talk instead. Always.

And I think she appreciates it. If she didn’t, she would have left by now.

She hasn’t.

Maybe she’s smart enough to realize I’m the only one feeding her, and she doesn’t want to lose that privilege.

I’ve recovered—at least a little—from the panic and the intrusive thoughts that clawed at me after Olfea was destroyed. But the memories come in flashes, creeping up like war flashbacks. Every once in a while, I see it again—the fire, the destruction, the loss.

Azry’s presence helps. Keeps me grounded.

I wonder if she feels the same about me. But that’s a thought for another time.

Right now, I have a more immediate problem.

Like anyone trying to survive, I scavenged whatever I could before leaving Olfea—money, clothes, anything that might help. But my funds are running low. Between inns and food, my coin purse is thinning fast. I didn’t leave feeling rich, and I need to stretch what I have if I plan on making it to Calverenthia.

The capital wasn’t my first choice, but as I passed through villages and towns, it became clear—I won’t find my answers in small places.

Calverenthia is my last hope. My best bet.

First, I need to know where the hell the Royal Army was when Olfea was attacked. Isn’t it supposed to be one of the Crown’s prized cities? Then why was no one there to stop the destruction? Why was no one there to save us?

And, maybe—this is just me being pathetic—I miss his Royal Sneakiness.

I didn’t want to admit it so soon, but I enjoyed messing with him. I almost made a friend out of him. Almost.

If I manage to find him in the capital, maybe—just maybe—he has answers.

And if not, well…I wouldn’t mind annoying him a little before I move on.

The cart jolts as we hit another bump in the road. I wince and tighten my grip on Azry before her tiny body slips away from my grasp.

“So, missy! What’s a young’un like you headin’ to the capital for?” The farmer giving me a ride has been talking my ear off for the past hour. “Most folks your age go there to find work! That what you’re after? I know some places hirin’!”

He means well, but I can barely keep up with the conversation.

He mentioned Olfea earlier—just like everyone else. But I didn’t say anything. I feel like I’m running from justice, even though I’ve done nothing wrong. I just don’t want anyone’s pity. I don’t want to be seen as the only survivor.

News of Olfea’s destruction spread like wildfire. Yet no one was there to save me.

This system is broken.

“Ah, no, thank you, sir!” I answer quickly. “I won’t be staying for long. Or…at least, I don’t think I will.” I mumble the last part, more to myself than to him.

“Well! The capital’s a good place for findin’ yourself. Good experience. Lots of folks from all over, even outside of Thalvarion!”

I nod absentmindedly, exhaustion settling over me. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in days. If I close my eyes, maybe he’ll take the hint and stop talking.

The arrival at Calverenthia goes smoothly.

I bid farewell to the farmer, offering him a few coins for the ride, but he refuses. Just waves me off with a satisfied grin. Says I need it more than he does.

With that, I step into the capital’s streets.

As expected, it’s nothing like Olfea.

Bigger buildings, intricate architecture, more people than I could ever count. I’ve seen pictures before, been here maybe twice in my life. So seeing it again isn’t a big deal.

I’m more familiar with the middle streets—territory where nobles and the rich refuse to set foot. The city is still bound by strict social rules, separating the wealthy from the poor.

Thalvarion is rich in resources, but when it comes to fairness? There’s still a long way to go.

And if history has taught me anything…

Well. We all saw what happened with the French Revolution.

I shake the thought away and make my way toward a familiar inn—one I stayed at before with Nero. It was decent, affordable. Hopefully, it still is.

Checking in is easy. No questions asked.

The room is small but cozy. Perfect for however long I need to be here.

I exhale sharply as I set my things down.

“Alright,” I mutter, climbing onto the bed and picking up Azry. “You and I need to talk.”

She blinks up at me, unmoving in my hands.

“Now that we’re here, I can think clearly,” I continue. “I need you to help me out.”

She remains silent.

“That punchable face—the man who destroyed my home.” I study her, searching for any reaction. “You knew he was dangerous. How?” I narrow my eyes. “Did you sense something? Or did you just hate his face? I’d prefer the latter.” I chuckle dryly.

Azry tilts her head, unbothered.

I sigh. “Look, we’re a team now. I know you can understand me, so please…say something.”

I hold my breath, waiting.

Nothing.

Then—

"Bad man."

I nearly drop her. Almost crush her in my hands from sheer excitement.

“That’s—Azry, that’s great! Progress! I mean, yeah, he was definitely suspicious. But you did say he was dangerous…”

She tilts her head again.

"Bad magic."

Oh.

That’s…unexpected.

“Sooo…yeah, I already knew he was messing with the barriers using magic,” I say carefully. “But you’re telling me he’s powerful?”

She nods.

I feel my shoulders sag.

“No wonder he knocked me out so fast…”

This confirms it. Azry is magical—somehow. And she can sense others with magic. By general accepted term; Heretics.

I rub my temples, thinking. “Still…we’re here now. We can find answers. Figure out why the Royal Army wasn’t there. And—” My thoughts shift, and a smirk tugs at my lips.

Light bulb moment.

“We can find his Royal Sneakiness!” I exclaim.

Azry blinks.

“He lives here, right?”

This could be my jackpot! As I charmed the Fourth Prince, he'll obviously help me if I fan my eyelashes enough, or stare into his soul with puppy-dog eyes. Even if I barely know him, I can tell he's a softie on the inside, weak to damsels in distress like me.

Azry doesn't look very convinced, but I believe my plan is genius. Of course, I will do all this before a well-deserved nap and a quick bath.

The sun is burning up in the sky when I leave out to the streets. Azry doesn't seem to like it much as she crawls inside one of my pockets and her head peeks out occasionally as I explore the streets.

I sigh as I my eyes land to the upper neighborhoods, where the rich live, and finally, to the castle standing at the top of the Capital. Nero told me the reason why Calvarenthia is built by levels is to defend the castle, as centuries ago, it was considered the last standing point of the kingdom.

Figures. But I know in reality, that when the enemies breach through the defenses of the Capital and attack civilians, the kingdom is considered lost, no matter how safe and cozy they are inside the Royal Palace.

I huff. Not even in centuries they'll let me talk with Bastien. Only a miracle can save me.

Just as I sit by a fountain to rest for a bit, a couple of piercing screams scrap my eardrums and almost leave me deaf.

“KYYAAAAAA, THIRD PRINCE!”

“Fourth Prince, please accept my flowers!”

“I made you chocolate!”

“I'm pregnant with your child, Third Prince! Take responsibility!”

What. In. The. Hell?!

I grimace as I see the commotion drawing near.

One of the cliche stuff you can find in isekais, are princes of kingdoms that are like pop stars. This is one of those situations in which the females throw themselves at them and rub their pheromones off.

Truly a scene for peak stupidity.

I squint my eyes and purse my lips as I stare at a group of Royal Army soldiers surrounding a young man on a horse.

That guy. He looks similar to His Royal Sneakiness, so that's the famous Third Prince, Selric. A true celebrity that enjoys the spotlight and is a military mastermind.

He looks so satisfied and happy to see the people trying to push through the soldiers to get closer to him.

But it's the guy behind him that makes me grin.

There he is! Bastien!

Looking much more uncomfortable with the unwanted attention, he maneuvers his horse around to avoid the people that also seem to like him equally as the Third Prince.

“Jackpot.” I slam my fist into my palm as I stand up with determination.

Of course, I'm not going to join the group of crazed females, so I stand up and take some stairs nearby that allows me to see the scene from an vantage point

I smirk at Bastien and I cup my mouth with my hands and inhale deeply.

“YOUR HIGHNESS THE FOURTH PRINCE!”

All noise dies around me and I almost regret doing what I did, but when Bastien looks up at me, and I watch his expression turn surprised and dumb, I feel no regret.

I giggle at him as he does the best resemblance of a statue, and then quickly jumps off of his horse.

What I don't expect him to do is to stand on his horse, gaining gasps of amazement from the people, and with a determined expression, he jumps and grabs onto a tree branch, and in a few seconds, he jumps in front of me. Eyes widen with both bewilderment and something else that I can't quite place as it is gone quickly.

He walks close to me and his hands hang into the air, as if unsure to touch me.

“This is how you greet your subjects, your Highness?” I giggle at him, and he clears his throat, his cheeks flushed, “I told you to stop calling me that.”

He frowns and then grabs my hand gently.

“You are…alive.”

I sigh heavily and smile sadly, shrugging my shoulders, “Why should I be dead?”

He frowns deeply, as if upset by my words, “What do you mean by why? After whatever happened in Olfea, I thought…”

He falls silent and his stare falls down and I chuckle, “I should say, have more faith in this subject of yours, your Highness.”

“I told you to stop—”

“Wow, little brother, I didn't expect that you had such beauty as company.”

The Third Prince appears behind Bastien and he quickly releases my hand as if it burned him.

“Selric, don't make Celeste—”

Selric pushes Bastien aside and he releases an indignant small yelp as he proceeds to grab my hand and peer closely into my eyes.

“Ah, Celeste, that's the name of the beauty that has been haunting my little brother for days?”

I tilt my head at him, wondering what he means by that. But first things first, personal space, please.

I retrieve my hand with a huff and cross my arms. Selric doesn't seem upset by me not falling for his charms, and takes a step away to then proceed to bow at me.

“If you haven't made a guess yet, my lady, I am Selric of Eryndor. Also known as the Third Prince, and this small fool's older brother.”

He throws a thumb at Bastien and his eyes widen, “Who are you calling a fool?! And we are only one year apart. One year.”

I chortle at Bastien acting so indignant, it is refreshing to see him like this.

“Uh huh. I already knew who you were from the ruckus from before, your Highness.” I point out, staring down to see that the sea of crazies have dispersed by the guards.

“I do apologize about that, but can't stop people from showing their happiness about seeing me.” Selric shrugs his shoulders with a laid back smile.

Bastien clears his throat and crosses his arms. “Selric, I was about to discuss Olfea with Celeste.”

At the mention of my home, Selric’s usual amusement fades. His expression darkens, and when he turns to me, there’s a glint of pity in his gaze.

“I’m truly sorry for what happened to your home, my lady,” he says solemnly. “No one could have predicted such a disaster.”

I tighten my arms around myself, my lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah? And yet nothing was done. When I woke up, there was no one there. No rescue. No royal army. Just… silence.”

Bastien’s expression falls. He glances around, then steps closer, his hand resting lightly on my arm.

“I understand why you feel that way,” he says, voice low. “But you should hear our side of the story.”

It’s a fair point. I can’t throw blame blindly when I don’t have all the facts. And besides, I should be saving my frustration for the real culprit—the one with the ever-so-punchable face.

Selric, sensing the shift in conversation, hums thoughtfully. “Speaking of mysteries, Bastien and I were actually preparing to head to Olfea to assess the situation.” He gestures vaguely toward me. “Though I suppose there’s no need now. We have a firsthand account standing right here.”

Bastien’s frown deepens as he turns toward his brother. “You’re not abandoning the investigation, Selric. Father gave you direct orders.”

Selric lifts his hands in surrender, smirking. “I was joking. Of course, we’ll continue as planned.”

Then, fixing me with a more serious expression, he says, “My lady, if you truly want to help, I suggest you accompany my brother and testify before the Royal Army’s investigators.”

He’s not wrong. And if I play my cards right, this could be an opportunity—not just to provide answers, but to demand them. Maybe even push for a bounty on the bastard who did this.

“I can do that,” I say with a nod.

Selric chuckles, then—far too swiftly—grabs my hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. I barely have time to react, let alone smack him away.

Guess I’ll entertain him for now.

Bastien, however, looks as though someone just personally offended his entire existence.

“Go already,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “You’re wasting time.”

Selric just laughs, ruffles Bastien’s hair—earning a swat for his efforts—and turns back toward his waiting entourage.

We watch as he mounts his horse, his soldiers falling into formation behind him. It doesn’t take long before the next wave of ear-piercing screams erupts through the streets.

I turn to Bastien with a smirk. “Your brother is quite the charmer.”

He exhales sharply, rolling his eyes. “I wish he wasn’t so flamboyant. He has an image to maintain as royalty.”

I hum thoughtfully, not particularly convinced.

Then, as if reality is finally sinking in, Bastien gives me a long, unreadable look. His frown lingers, as though he still can’t quite believe I’m standing in front of him, alive and breathing.

I tilt my head. “Do you really think so little of my survival skills?”

He straightens instantly, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I just…” His expression softens, and his voice drops to something quieter. “I didn’t expect to see you again. Not this soon.”

Oh, how adorable of him. I resist the urge to pat his head.

Instead, I chuckle. “Well, destiny plays its cards in mysterious ways.”

Bastien lets out a small, rueful smile. “That is true.”

A familiar rustling from my pocket catches my attention. Azry pokes her head out, her bright eyes scanning the surroundings before settling on Bastien.

He studies her with something akin to fondness. “Good to see the lizard is still in one piece.”

I smile, running a finger gently over Azry’s tiny head. “Yeah, we’ve been through a lot, but she stuck with me. I take that as her liking me.”

Bastien nods, though something thoughtful flickers across his expression as he looks away.

“My original plan was to follow Selric to Olfea,” he admits. Then, glancing back at me, he adds, “I convinced Father to let me go with him.”

A faint blush creeps onto his face before he sighs. “I guess… that won’t be necessary anymore.”

I can’t help but smirk as I lean toward him. “Oh, how fortunate for me! I should have just stayed there and waited for my grand rescue.”

Bastien shakes his head, looking away. “Honestly? I would have hated that.” His voice is quieter now. “I wanted to believe you were alive. That you had walked away and found something… better.”

I snicker. “So then why did you look at me like I was a ghost just now?”

He rubs the back of his neck, exhaling. “Because this is the first time something went against my expectations.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Your expectations must be very high for a mere commoner like me, Your Highness.”

He lets out a sigh—heavy, exasperated—but despite himself, a small smile tugs at his lips. “I’m just glad you haven’t lost your wits.”

“Of course not.” I flash a grin. “And my sparkling humor remains intact.”

Azry, evidently done with us, burrows back into my pocket.

Bastien watches her disappear before his expression turns more serious. “About what Selric said—your testimony will help. More than you know.”

I narrow my eyes slightly. “You say that like you don’t know what really happened in Olfea.”

Bastien hesitates. Then, looking almost… embarrassed, he exhales. “It happened too fast. There was no time for Father to organize a response. No time to send anyone.” His gaze shifts away, guilt etched across his face.

For a moment, I just watch him.

He really does carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, doesn’t he?

With a sigh, I reach out and pat his shoulder.

“I believe you,” I say simply. “Honestly? I wouldn’t know how to react to something of this magnitude either. But at least the army is moving now. Even if it’s late.”

Bastien nods slowly, my words seeming to ease some of the tension in his frame.

“I’ll testify,” I add. “Gladly.”

His gaze lifts, and he nods. “Then we should go. The Royal Army is still investigating—looking for any leads on a culprit.”

Oh, I have a culprit in mind, alright.

With a determined nod, I fall into step beside him as we make our way through the streets toward the Royal Army’s headquarters.

I just hope my testimony will be enough to make these fools move.