Chương 215: Chapter : 215

Princess Iris closed her eyes and let out a breath that was equal parts relief and amusement. The anger that had been burning in her chest began to fade, replaced by a quiet, warm gratitude. Not because Ken had refused the offer, though she was glad about that. But because of how he had refused it. Not with grand speeches about loyalty or dramatic declarations of belonging. Just with complaints about naps and shoes.

It was so perfectly, absurdly, wonderfully Ken that it made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. Jenny stood in the center of the room, holding the rejected contract. She looked at the document, then at Ken, then at the rest of the 13th Unit. The professional mask on her face was holding, but barely. She was a woman who had been trained to handle negotiations, arguments, and even physical confrontations.

She had not been trained to handle a grown man rejecting a Princess's offer because of toe-pinching boots.

"I... see," Jenny said carefully.

"Then the 2nd Princess's offer is formally declined?"

"Formally, informally, and in every other way possible," Ken confirmed, waving his hand lazily.

"Tell the 2nd Princess that I am very flattered, and that if she ever wants to send a gift basket, I prefer the kind with chips and instant noodles. But the servant swap is a no." Jenny tucked the contract back into her portfolio with precise, controlled movements. She gave a short, formal bow to Princess Iris.

"I will deliver your response to the 2nd Princess. Thank you for your time." She turned and walked toward the door, her posture still perfect, her steps still measured, but there was something slightly different about her now. Something that might have been respect, or might have been confusion, or might have been the dawning realization that not everyone in the Belmontia Empire operated according to the same cold, logical rules that governed the 2nd Princess's household. As she reached the front gate, she paused.

She looked back at the slightly shabby mansion, at the overgrown garden and the faded paint and the simple iron gate. Then she looked down at her own perfectly polished boots, the ones that Ken had described as toe-pinching. And for just a moment, the tiniest, most imperceptible smile crossed her disciplined face.

"Interesting," she murmured. And then she climbed into the white carriage and was gone. Back inside the mansion, the atmosphere shifted. The tension drained out of the room like water flowing out of a bathtub. Laxmi let out a whoop and punched the air.

"Did you see her face?! She had no idea what to do with you, Ken! That was amazing!" Zinia chuckled and clapped Ken on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.

"Good call on the boots, kid. Those did look uncomfortable." A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Luna had already gone back to sleep on the carpet, which was her way of showing approval. Ira stood in her usual spot, but her head was tilted slightly to the side, which in Ira's body language meant she was deeply, analytically impressed by the sheer efficiency of Ken's rejection. No drama. No long arguments.

Just three sentences about naps and shoes, and the deal was dead. Statistically speaking, it was the most efficient negotiation she had ever witnessed. Sayma pushed her glasses up and made a small note in her book.

"For the record, the contract was legally sound and could have been contested in the Imperial Court. However, I believe Mr. Eliot's method of rejection was... uniquely effective." She paused, then added with the faintest hint of a smile, "And significantly less paperwork." Risa ran over to Ken and hugged his leg, because she was too short to hug anything else.

"You are not leaving, Ken! You are staying with us forever and ever!"

"Forever is a very long time, Risa," Ken said, looking down at her with a soft, genuine smile that broke through his usual goofy mask for just a second.

"But yeah. I am staying." Naomi walked over to him. She had put her daggers away, and her face had returned to its normal, slightly annoyed expression. But there was something different about the way she looked at him. Something warmer, something that she would deny to her dying breath. She reached up and flicked his forehead, gentle but firm.

"Idiot," she said.

"You could have at least pretended to think about it for more than two seconds. You know, for appearances."

"I thought about it for four seconds," Ken corrected her.

"I counted. That is twice as long as I think about most things." Naomi shook her head, but she was smiling. A real smile, not a smirk, not a reluctant grimace, but an actual, genuine smile that made her fierce green eyes look soft for just a moment.

"You are the worst, Ken Eliot," she said.

"The absolute worst."

"But you would miss me if I was gone," Ken said, grinning.

"I would miss making fun of you," Naomi admitted.

"That is not the same thing."

"It is close enough." Princess Iris watched the exchange from her armchair, a quiet warmth spreading through her chest. The 13th Unit was not the strongest. It was not the richest. It was not the most prestigious. But as she looked around the room at the mismatched, chaotic, wonderful family she had somehow gathered around her, she knew with absolute certainty that there was no amount of money, no contract, no trade offer in the entire Belmontia Empire that could buy what they had.

Because what they had was not for sale. What they had was built on bad jokes and shared battles, on blanket drapes and sand fortresses, on fierce loyalty and gentle forehead flicks. What they had was a home. And nobody was taking that away from them. Ken caught Iris's eye across the room. He gave her a lazy thumbs-up. She nodded back, a small, warm smile on her tired face. And then Ken yawned again, shuffled back to the couch, and lay down. Within thirty seconds, he was asleep.

The bag of potato chips was still on the cushion. His shirt was still untucked. Sand was still in his hair. And the 13th Unit's most irreplaceable member was once again snoring softly in the middle of the living room, completely oblivious to the fact that the most powerful people in the Empire were fighting over him, because the only thing he was interested in fighting for was the right to take a nap in peace.