The next morning, sunlight streamed through the wooden window of Rion’s house.
Rion had already left for school, while Ravell and Arden — now in their human forms once again — strolled leisurely down the quiet countryside road.

“Your Highness, how exactly are we supposed to find a job?” Arden asked, gazing at the endless stretch of green rice fields.
“There’s no market here, no castle, not even a single notice board for job postings.”

Ravell huffed, tilting his chin toward the sky. “Hmm… I have no idea either. This world is truly bizarre. No guards, no palaces, and not a single servant bringing afternoon tea.”

Arden nodded earnestly. “Then perhaps fate will guide us, Your Highness.”
Ravell crossed his arms and looked ahead solemnly. “Yes… fate, or perhaps—”

.....

“How are we supposed to do this, ma’am?! Our models just canceled!”
The voice came from a distance — two women standing beside a camera, a tripod, and piles of colorful clothes.

“What?! Again?!” said the short-haired woman who seemed to be in charge.
“They said they don’t want to do a photoshoot in a village. Apparently, it’s ‘not aesthetic,’” the assistant complained.
“Ugh! Typical wannabe influencers. Their careers will sink faster than the evening sun!” the leader groaned, rubbing her temple.

“Where am I supposed to find two handsome models in a place like—”

She froze mid-sentence.
Her eyes widened at the sight of two stunning young men walking along the rice fields — one with silver hair, the other with soft blond locks, both wearing shimmering “European royal” outfits that glowed in the morning light.

“…Am I hallucinating?” she whispered.

Arden, feeling their gaze, turned to Ravell. “Your Highness, that woman is waving at us.”
Ravell squinted. “Is that some sort of local greeting custom?”

Before they could analyze it further, the woman came running toward them enthusiastically.
“HEY! YOU TWO!” she shouted. “Yes, you — the handsome guys doing a medieval cosplay thing!”

Ravell lifted his chin proudly. “Cosplay? Is that… a title of honor?”
“Your Highness,” Arden whispered, “I believe it’s the local term for noble attire.”
“Ah, finally, someone in this world with proper fashion sense,” Ravell said smugly.

The woman stopped right in front of them, panting but beaming.
“You two… you’re perfect! Would you like to be models for our photoshoot?”
“Models?” Ravell repeated, clearly confused.
“Yes! Models! We’ll pay you money, and all you have to do is look handsome for the camera!”

The word money instantly caught Ravell’s attention. He patted Arden’s shoulder with a satisfied grin.
“Arden, it seems the goddess of fortune smiles upon us today.”
“Truly remarkable, Your Highness. Even employment seeks you out!” Arden replied in awe.

Ravell turned to the woman, smiling regally.
“Very well, commoner. Show us this royal workplace of yours.”
The woman blinked, taken aback. “Uh… okay, but please don’t call me a commoner. I’m Producer Risa.”
“Very well then, Commoner Risa.”
“THAT’S NOT—”

Arden stifled a laugh beside him. “Your Highness, perhaps we should first learn the local etiquette of this world.”
“Etiquette? I’m already being polite. I haven’t ordered anyone to kneel today.”

Producer Risa just stared at them, a mix of admiration and exhaustion on her face.
“…Okay. Something tells me this photoshoot is going to be... interesting.”