Reincarnated as the Crown Prince

The sun had crested over Madrid’s skyline by the time Prince Lancelot stepped into the marble foyer of the Ministry of Public Works. The building stood opposite the Royal Postal Exchange—a stout, square structure of fading stone and wooden columns. Civil servants moved briskly along its corridors, carrying scrolls and ledgers, most of them oblivious to the sudden presence of the nation’s Regent. Don Ignacio Ordoñez, Minister of Public Works, stood when Lancelot entered his office. A thin man in his late forties, Ordoñez wore a slightly wrinkled brown coat and pince-nez glasses that slid precariously down his nose. He looked like a man more comfortable among blueprints than politics.

"Your Royal Highness," Ordoñez bowed stiffly. "This is... an unexpected honor."

Lancelot waved off the formalities. "Let’s keep this informal, Minister. I wanted to speak with you in person. About roads."

Ordoñez blinked, then motioned to the modest seating area in his office. "Certainly, please. Have a seat."

Lancelot took one of the chairs by the fireplace while Alicia stood behind him, clipboard in hand, as always. Ordoñez lowered himself cautiously, uncertain of where the conversation was headed.

"You oversee the maintenance and development of our nation’s roads, correct?" Lancelot began.

"Yes, Your Highness," Ordoñez replied. "Though our budget is... limited. The court prioritizes military expenditure and religious structures, I’m afraid. Roads come after cathedrals."

Lancelot smirked. "I intend to change that. Tell me, what is the current standard for road construction in the kingdom?"

Ordoñez reached for a worn portfolio on his desk and opened it. "Cobblestones within cities and packed dirt for outer roads. Occasionally we use larger flagstones for ceremonial routes, but... they don’t hold well under traffic. Mud during rains. Dust during droughts."

Lancelot nodded. "And how long does it take a fully loaded cart to travel from Madrid to Valencia?"