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Ah so the dragon stole the sword then?
The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer
- Thread starter kayenano
- Start date
- Original
Ah so the dragon stole the sword then?
Chapter 308: Royal Form
New
A sword gleamed in the distance.
One which matched my own.
Dawning Summer.
A blade as famed as it was delicate. Said to blaze with the willpower of its wielder, it was like a blacksmith's hammer made sharp.
Chosen from amongst the few fabled weapons in the Royal Villa's vault not to be obviously cursed, it was the ceremonial sword Grandmother had opted to wield as both her badge of authority and her posture stick when those around her allowed their backs to droop.
There were few places she went without it.
After all, as terrifying as she was with a cane, not all problems could be solved with a wooden stick. Opening the letters Mother sent querying where she was and that if she did not receive a reply within 15 minutes she would assume she was dead was one of them.
Grandmother kept a pile of the letters on her person for use as napkins.
So why …
Why was her sword in Ouzelia?!
I was beyond horrified.
I came to Ouzelia expecting to find a stolen dragon. And because I was wonderful I did. Yet to find Dawning Summer as well was a gift too many.
Indeed, for Grandmother, whose sword could only be pried from her immeasurably tight grip used to injure the digits of so many foreign diplomats that they immediately conceded to her demands to avoid shaking hands with her, it could only mean one thing …
That after all this time, the worst case scenario had finally happened.
Here was definitive proof … that my grandmother, Queen Mother and former ruling monarch of the Kingdom of Tirea …
Had also visited Ouzelia.
My entire body began to shake as despair threatened to overwhelm me.
This … This was beyond my worst expectations … !
For one member of the royal family to be here was a grave misfortune …
But two?!
We would never live this one down!
Here was a blot to permanently stain the history books! How were we going to explain two catastrophes worthy of our presence? That was simply far too farfetched. Even if the world was at threat of being split like a dry macaron, it wasn't going to stop our nobility edging slightly away from us in our own soirées!
The humiliation … it would be the end of us!
"Heeheeheehee~"
Indeed … such was the gravity of the situation, Coppelia could hardly wait for the strike against her!
Made delirious by the shame we'd face if we failed to sweep this affair beneath the carpet, the shadows surrounding her scythe deepened as it readied to swing.
Yet, buoyed by the weapon she had no right to possess, her opponent neither turned nor slowed.
Fleur simply thrust Dawning Summer towards the waiting scythe. A flagrant disregard to the repair costs being invited. As wondrous as the swords of my family were, Coppelia's weapon was less a thing of war and more a concoction vomited from a demon's fantasy.
As she swung, it was with the motion of a farmer with a field to reap and a single moment to do it.
And then–
"[Spiteful Glare]."
Dawning Summer burst to life with a flash of sunlight.
The scythe hacked with enough force to decapitate a chimney. It found only the singed end of a previously pink strand of hair.
A smile of appreciation came in response, followed by the tip of a sword now wreathed in an amber hue.
Coppelia wasn't to be undone.
After all, no dazzling glare could harm her when eyes had already become accustomed to the sight of my glowing skin each and every day. She twisted away as the sword and its illegal wielder passed, then swung her scythe with enough force to cleave the trailing light as she pirouetted on the spot.
Her opponent chose not to receive it.
The librarian skipped ahead. Far enough away for the scythe to only disturb the back of her pink hair. But she didn't bother turning.
Instead, she shovelled Dawning Summer into the ground.
Earth and stone broke as easily as sand on a beach.
"[Spiteful Dust]."
Dragging the sword around with her, she sent the shards sweeping upwards. A volley of jagged daggers flung with the force of a ballista directly into Coppelia's eyes.
They broke upon the scythe, the twirling blade forming a barrier greater than any shield. Shards turned to powder as a fresh plume of dust filled the cavern. Yet when it was swept aside with a final, dismissive cleave, there was not a hint of that gleaming sword waiting before her.
"[Spiteful Gouge]."
It was now coming from above.
Coppelia used the shaft of her scythe to swipe the air above her.
It caught the sword an inch from her face. More than enough to bat aside both weapon and wielder. A flaring of a pinafore dress followed, the frills raised as Fleur neatly landed, before she immediately launched herself again towards where a scythe waited in expectation.
I was aghast.
[Spiteful Glare], [Spiteful Dust], [Spiteful Gouge] …
In her hands was a weapon which could melt winter!
Instead, she was using it to perform such underhanded attacks that even brigands loitering on the sides of the road would baulk! To strike exclusively at the eyes was a style of fighting which trampled upon even the etiquette found in bar room brawls and the bottom of sewers!
Indeed, there could be no doubt …
This … This was Grandmother's signature swordsmanship!
A style of combat so unchivalrous and unvirtuous, only those whose lifelong ambition was to survive at all costs employed it! To poke exclusively and repeatedly at the eyes was a defiance to codes of swordsmanship only former queens who no longer needed to pretend at sympathy could employ!
I was horrified.
Such a regal style of swordsmanship was being used by a librarian!
That alone was a disgrace … and yet this was more than royal appropriation!
Why, each eye gouge was evidence of Grandmother's presence! I could practically see her visage looming over this girl, her wrinkled fingers gleefully lifting the marionette beneath her!
"Ghhhrk."
And then … I heard it.
The sound of that most forbidden skill.
One which neither knight nor brigand would have any defence against. And one no clockwork librarian should be able to mimic. For never in recorded history had any member of royalty chosen to use this most black of abilities and left their opponent with their memories intact, knowing that doing so was to take a guillotine to one's pride.
"[Spiteful Spit–"
Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!
"[Spring Breeze]!!"
Pwoooomph.
Hearing the phlegm being sucked into the back of Fleur's mouth, I raised Starlight Grace and swished in an act of desperation. A gust carried all the way from the kingdom about to be irrevocably besmirched came in answer alongside the sound of Coppelia forgetting her opponent.
"Wheeeeeeee~"
Smiling in joy, Coppelia sunk her scythe into the ground, her hair fluttering like a golden flag behind her as she anchored herself in place.
The other clockwork doll was less appreciative.
Rather than enjoying the forgotten breeze beneath the heart of this mountain, she clenched her teeth as an altogether new expression graced her face.
"Hnnnnnnnnnngghhhhhh!"
Centering her weight, she deemed it appropriate to finally drop to her knees, hugging the sword in her grip as she continually slid away.
When she looked up again, it was with eyes hidden behind a layer of frayed pink hair.
She blew a tuft away from her brows and squinted at me.
"Hm. I wondered how Coppelia was able to pass my oracle without losing an arm. You are no heroine, but I see you match them in being a nuisance."
"I am a guest," I declared, knowing she'd forgotten. "It is my role to be a nuisance. Just as it is yours to answer my every unreasonable demand. Your shins should be aching from the kowtowing required to make me dismiss you."
The librarian stood up. Her poor impression only continued to drop.
"As a servant of the Hidden Library, my devout examples of subservience are reserved exclusively for my master. All the more so when he resumes his place atop a mountain of gold coloured respect carved from all the treasuries of the world."
My mouth widened at once.
"Excuse me? Can you say that once more? But without including the world in there?"
"I don't see why you're surprised. I've already explained my objective."
"Yes, and it's as unworkable as a bowl of unshelled pistachios. But I at least assumed any plotting was to be kept to your own well defined borders. Do you mean to say this ancient dragon is to acquire treasure by laying waste to the fair pastures beyond this absurd realm?"
"Well, not in so many words. But yes."
I didn't bother hiding my groan.
Here I thought this was just a ridiculous scheme to drag a dragon out of bed! But it's actually less than that! It's simply a ridiculous scheme! Period!
"Unacceptable." I pointed to the ground. Repeatedly. "Do you see this? This is yours. Ouzelia exists for a reason. That is to keep the worst of world ending plots contained. You've no right to bring so much as an earthworm outside, much less a dragon. Why would you drag the rest of us into this?"
"For the simple reason that all the wealth in Ouzelia is already being sat upon by other dragons. And their displeasure should only be invited at the end of the tale, not the beginning."
The clockwork librarian idly swished Dawning Summer around her like a conductor with a stick.
"Lissoine, Weinstadt, the Summer Kingdoms … so many lesser realms, yet all filled with wealth and no dragons to defend them. With a single sweep of his wings, my master will carve out a hoard great enough to fund the library's new acquisitions and staffing costs for at least another two centuries. And not a single one of our neighbours will have cause for complaint."
I stepped back, horrified at the insinuation. The grip around my sword tightened.
"H-How dare you! You would seek to use this dragon to plunder my homeland over your own! … However, know that we need no dragon to defend our wealth! The valour of our knights and the high pitched screaming of our peasants will be enough to stave off even the greatest of–"
"No, your kingdom is safe."
"Excuse me?"
"You said you were from Tirea?"
"... Yes?"
The clockwork librarian's smile wilted. Her eyes clouded over in sympathy.
"Oh. Well, you can rest assured I've no intention of goading my master into pillage your kingdom. It seems needlessly cruel. At most, he'll fly over it on the way to Weinstadt."
I blinked.
And then–
"H-How dare you not seek to plunder my kingdom! It is a place of breathtaking riches and unclaimed treasures the likes of which have never been known!"
"Yes, well, once they are known, I'll be sure to consider seizing them. But until then, I really cannot in good conscience rob you of what few sticks you have."
"Sticks?!" I jabbed my sword towards her. My gleaming, shimmering, enchanted sword. "Does the permanent shine from my kingdom's artifacts blind you?! … Look, look right here! Exhibit A! Starlight Grace, a fabled sword wreathed in magic and history!"
Then, I pointed towards the other sword.
"Exhibit B! Another fabled sword wreathed in magic and history!"
Fleur lifted Dawning Summer, tapping her head with the flat of the blade.
"... Oh, this thing is from Tirea? I had no idea. I've been using it as a scalp massager."
I smiled.
My, how unexpectedly wonderful.
Clarise would soon have her own clockwork doll to inspect and Coppelia was saved from several sleepless nights of locking her windows and double nailing down her floorboards.
Everyone was happy.
And I would be as well, once I'd woken up to see my bedroom ceiling.
"Yes, that thing is a treasured artifact of my kingdom. And I assure you it is worth more than all the riches you could pillage all bundled together … how, then, did you come to steal it?"
"That's an awful accusation to make, given the hospitality I've offered."
"The only hospitality I require is your prostration, the return of that sword and your creaking cogs as you help move this gold as compensation for my lost time including now."
I thought for a moment.
"... Also, I should inquire about the wrinkled old lady you callously robbed."
The librarian raised an eyebrow.
"If you must know, I didn't rob anyone. This sword was given to me as payment."
"Payment? Payment for what? Your jests?"
"This is no jest. I was alerted to a disturbance in the specially designated reserve outside the library. Upon investigation, I found an elderly human woman felling vast quantities of our treants. I initially assumed she was illegally logging, but soon discovered she was actually searching for a suitable wood grain to use for a new cane."
I covered my eyes with an arm and groaned.
A hand wasn't enough. Not for this.
To trespass into another realm was one thing … but to brazenly cut down their murderous treants?
Why, if Grandmother wanted a cane fashioned exclusively from their enchanted branches, she needed at least a thin veneer of plausible deniability first!
She should have ordered one of the squires to do it for her! Menial and highly dangerous labour in the guise of a chivalric quest is what they were there for!
"I … I see … and did she find a suitable wood grain, at least?"
"No," stated Fleur simply. "The forest is protected. The treants' habitat doubly so. I requested she depart after paying restitution. As she had no funds, she opted to part with her sword instead."
She paused.
"... She was quite indifferent about it."
Grandmother?!
What were you doing?!
One which matched my own.
Dawning Summer.
A blade as famed as it was delicate. Said to blaze with the willpower of its wielder, it was like a blacksmith's hammer made sharp.
Chosen from amongst the few fabled weapons in the Royal Villa's vault not to be obviously cursed, it was the ceremonial sword Grandmother had opted to wield as both her badge of authority and her posture stick when those around her allowed their backs to droop.
There were few places she went without it.
After all, as terrifying as she was with a cane, not all problems could be solved with a wooden stick. Opening the letters Mother sent querying where she was and that if she did not receive a reply within 15 minutes she would assume she was dead was one of them.
Grandmother kept a pile of the letters on her person for use as napkins.
So why …
Why was her sword in Ouzelia?!
I was beyond horrified.
I came to Ouzelia expecting to find a stolen dragon. And because I was wonderful I did. Yet to find Dawning Summer as well was a gift too many.
Indeed, for Grandmother, whose sword could only be pried from her immeasurably tight grip used to injure the digits of so many foreign diplomats that they immediately conceded to her demands to avoid shaking hands with her, it could only mean one thing …
That after all this time, the worst case scenario had finally happened.
Here was definitive proof … that my grandmother, Queen Mother and former ruling monarch of the Kingdom of Tirea …
Had also visited Ouzelia.
My entire body began to shake as despair threatened to overwhelm me.
This … This was beyond my worst expectations … !
For one member of the royal family to be here was a grave misfortune …
But two?!
We would never live this one down!
Here was a blot to permanently stain the history books! How were we going to explain two catastrophes worthy of our presence? That was simply far too farfetched. Even if the world was at threat of being split like a dry macaron, it wasn't going to stop our nobility edging slightly away from us in our own soirées!
The humiliation … it would be the end of us!
"Heeheeheehee~"
Indeed … such was the gravity of the situation, Coppelia could hardly wait for the strike against her!
Made delirious by the shame we'd face if we failed to sweep this affair beneath the carpet, the shadows surrounding her scythe deepened as it readied to swing.
Yet, buoyed by the weapon she had no right to possess, her opponent neither turned nor slowed.
Fleur simply thrust Dawning Summer towards the waiting scythe. A flagrant disregard to the repair costs being invited. As wondrous as the swords of my family were, Coppelia's weapon was less a thing of war and more a concoction vomited from a demon's fantasy.
As she swung, it was with the motion of a farmer with a field to reap and a single moment to do it.
And then–
"[Spiteful Glare]."
Dawning Summer burst to life with a flash of sunlight.
The scythe hacked with enough force to decapitate a chimney. It found only the singed end of a previously pink strand of hair.
A smile of appreciation came in response, followed by the tip of a sword now wreathed in an amber hue.
Coppelia wasn't to be undone.
After all, no dazzling glare could harm her when eyes had already become accustomed to the sight of my glowing skin each and every day. She twisted away as the sword and its illegal wielder passed, then swung her scythe with enough force to cleave the trailing light as she pirouetted on the spot.
Her opponent chose not to receive it.
The librarian skipped ahead. Far enough away for the scythe to only disturb the back of her pink hair. But she didn't bother turning.
Instead, she shovelled Dawning Summer into the ground.
Earth and stone broke as easily as sand on a beach.
"[Spiteful Dust]."
Dragging the sword around with her, she sent the shards sweeping upwards. A volley of jagged daggers flung with the force of a ballista directly into Coppelia's eyes.
They broke upon the scythe, the twirling blade forming a barrier greater than any shield. Shards turned to powder as a fresh plume of dust filled the cavern. Yet when it was swept aside with a final, dismissive cleave, there was not a hint of that gleaming sword waiting before her.
"[Spiteful Gouge]."
It was now coming from above.
Coppelia used the shaft of her scythe to swipe the air above her.
It caught the sword an inch from her face. More than enough to bat aside both weapon and wielder. A flaring of a pinafore dress followed, the frills raised as Fleur neatly landed, before she immediately launched herself again towards where a scythe waited in expectation.
I was aghast.
[Spiteful Glare], [Spiteful Dust], [Spiteful Gouge] …
In her hands was a weapon which could melt winter!
Instead, she was using it to perform such underhanded attacks that even brigands loitering on the sides of the road would baulk! To strike exclusively at the eyes was a style of fighting which trampled upon even the etiquette found in bar room brawls and the bottom of sewers!
Indeed, there could be no doubt …
This … This was Grandmother's signature swordsmanship!
A style of combat so unchivalrous and unvirtuous, only those whose lifelong ambition was to survive at all costs employed it! To poke exclusively and repeatedly at the eyes was a defiance to codes of swordsmanship only former queens who no longer needed to pretend at sympathy could employ!
I was horrified.
Such a regal style of swordsmanship was being used by a librarian!
That alone was a disgrace … and yet this was more than royal appropriation!
Why, each eye gouge was evidence of Grandmother's presence! I could practically see her visage looming over this girl, her wrinkled fingers gleefully lifting the marionette beneath her!
"Ghhhrk."
And then … I heard it.
The sound of that most forbidden skill.
One which neither knight nor brigand would have any defence against. And one no clockwork librarian should be able to mimic. For never in recorded history had any member of royalty chosen to use this most black of abilities and left their opponent with their memories intact, knowing that doing so was to take a guillotine to one's pride.
"[Spiteful Spit–"
Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!
"[Spring Breeze]!!"
Pwoooomph.
Hearing the phlegm being sucked into the back of Fleur's mouth, I raised Starlight Grace and swished in an act of desperation. A gust carried all the way from the kingdom about to be irrevocably besmirched came in answer alongside the sound of Coppelia forgetting her opponent.
"Wheeeeeeee~"
Smiling in joy, Coppelia sunk her scythe into the ground, her hair fluttering like a golden flag behind her as she anchored herself in place.
The other clockwork doll was less appreciative.
Rather than enjoying the forgotten breeze beneath the heart of this mountain, she clenched her teeth as an altogether new expression graced her face.
"Hnnnnnnnnnngghhhhhh!"
Centering her weight, she deemed it appropriate to finally drop to her knees, hugging the sword in her grip as she continually slid away.
When she looked up again, it was with eyes hidden behind a layer of frayed pink hair.
She blew a tuft away from her brows and squinted at me.
"Hm. I wondered how Coppelia was able to pass my oracle without losing an arm. You are no heroine, but I see you match them in being a nuisance."
"I am a guest," I declared, knowing she'd forgotten. "It is my role to be a nuisance. Just as it is yours to answer my every unreasonable demand. Your shins should be aching from the kowtowing required to make me dismiss you."
The librarian stood up. Her poor impression only continued to drop.
"As a servant of the Hidden Library, my devout examples of subservience are reserved exclusively for my master. All the more so when he resumes his place atop a mountain of gold coloured respect carved from all the treasuries of the world."
My mouth widened at once.
"Excuse me? Can you say that once more? But without including the world in there?"
"I don't see why you're surprised. I've already explained my objective."
"Yes, and it's as unworkable as a bowl of unshelled pistachios. But I at least assumed any plotting was to be kept to your own well defined borders. Do you mean to say this ancient dragon is to acquire treasure by laying waste to the fair pastures beyond this absurd realm?"
"Well, not in so many words. But yes."
I didn't bother hiding my groan.
Here I thought this was just a ridiculous scheme to drag a dragon out of bed! But it's actually less than that! It's simply a ridiculous scheme! Period!
"Unacceptable." I pointed to the ground. Repeatedly. "Do you see this? This is yours. Ouzelia exists for a reason. That is to keep the worst of world ending plots contained. You've no right to bring so much as an earthworm outside, much less a dragon. Why would you drag the rest of us into this?"
"For the simple reason that all the wealth in Ouzelia is already being sat upon by other dragons. And their displeasure should only be invited at the end of the tale, not the beginning."
The clockwork librarian idly swished Dawning Summer around her like a conductor with a stick.
"Lissoine, Weinstadt, the Summer Kingdoms … so many lesser realms, yet all filled with wealth and no dragons to defend them. With a single sweep of his wings, my master will carve out a hoard great enough to fund the library's new acquisitions and staffing costs for at least another two centuries. And not a single one of our neighbours will have cause for complaint."
I stepped back, horrified at the insinuation. The grip around my sword tightened.
"H-How dare you! You would seek to use this dragon to plunder my homeland over your own! … However, know that we need no dragon to defend our wealth! The valour of our knights and the high pitched screaming of our peasants will be enough to stave off even the greatest of–"
"No, your kingdom is safe."
"Excuse me?"
"You said you were from Tirea?"
"... Yes?"
The clockwork librarian's smile wilted. Her eyes clouded over in sympathy.
"Oh. Well, you can rest assured I've no intention of goading my master into pillage your kingdom. It seems needlessly cruel. At most, he'll fly over it on the way to Weinstadt."
I blinked.
And then–
"H-How dare you not seek to plunder my kingdom! It is a place of breathtaking riches and unclaimed treasures the likes of which have never been known!"
"Yes, well, once they are known, I'll be sure to consider seizing them. But until then, I really cannot in good conscience rob you of what few sticks you have."
"Sticks?!" I jabbed my sword towards her. My gleaming, shimmering, enchanted sword. "Does the permanent shine from my kingdom's artifacts blind you?! … Look, look right here! Exhibit A! Starlight Grace, a fabled sword wreathed in magic and history!"
Then, I pointed towards the other sword.
"Exhibit B! Another fabled sword wreathed in magic and history!"
Fleur lifted Dawning Summer, tapping her head with the flat of the blade.
"... Oh, this thing is from Tirea? I had no idea. I've been using it as a scalp massager."
I smiled.
My, how unexpectedly wonderful.
Clarise would soon have her own clockwork doll to inspect and Coppelia was saved from several sleepless nights of locking her windows and double nailing down her floorboards.
Everyone was happy.
And I would be as well, once I'd woken up to see my bedroom ceiling.
"Yes, that thing is a treasured artifact of my kingdom. And I assure you it is worth more than all the riches you could pillage all bundled together … how, then, did you come to steal it?"
"That's an awful accusation to make, given the hospitality I've offered."
"The only hospitality I require is your prostration, the return of that sword and your creaking cogs as you help move this gold as compensation for my lost time including now."
I thought for a moment.
"... Also, I should inquire about the wrinkled old lady you callously robbed."
The librarian raised an eyebrow.
"If you must know, I didn't rob anyone. This sword was given to me as payment."
"Payment? Payment for what? Your jests?"
"This is no jest. I was alerted to a disturbance in the specially designated reserve outside the library. Upon investigation, I found an elderly human woman felling vast quantities of our treants. I initially assumed she was illegally logging, but soon discovered she was actually searching for a suitable wood grain to use for a new cane."
I covered my eyes with an arm and groaned.
A hand wasn't enough. Not for this.
To trespass into another realm was one thing … but to brazenly cut down their murderous treants?
Why, if Grandmother wanted a cane fashioned exclusively from their enchanted branches, she needed at least a thin veneer of plausible deniability first!
She should have ordered one of the squires to do it for her! Menial and highly dangerous labour in the guise of a chivalric quest is what they were there for!
"I … I see … and did she find a suitable wood grain, at least?"
"No," stated Fleur simply. "The forest is protected. The treants' habitat doubly so. I requested she depart after paying restitution. As she had no funds, she opted to part with her sword instead."
She paused.
"... She was quite indifferent about it."
Grandmother?!
What were you doing?!
Last edited:
- Location
- Argentina
She is probably senile I guess?
Grannies are simply in a class of their own!
Chapter 309: A Golden Spite
New
Despite my arm leaving my eyes, all I saw was darkness.
Grandmother did what Grandmother did. And that was whatever she wished, whenever she wished.
As was her right, of course.
When people spoke about her, they didn't refer to her by name. They simply sniffled and a tear dropped down. Having endured a life of instilling grey hairs upon everyone younger than her, it was only appropriate she'd do more than retire to her chamber where a servant was still tearfully holding up a tea pot she said she'd return to once it'd sufficiently cooled.
That was eight months ago.
An admittedly long brewing time, yes … but to traverse the corners of the world while her darjeeling matured to the point of tar was only fitting for one so accomplished. To see and hear first hand how her legacy was viewed across the continent was as much her right as it was her obligation.
Naturally, I held only the deepest affections for her.
Aside from the fact she was family, she was also the previous owner of Starlight Grace. Because for all her many accomplishments, her ability to safeguard that which every giant magpie and roadside hooligan wished to pilfer was one of her greatest.
… Or so I thought.
I groaned as I viewed the inglorious fate of my sword's successor.
It'd practically been bartered … and without any haggling, by the sounds of it!
On one hand, to be so utterly dismissive towards the treasured artifacts of our kingdom was certainly a high mark regarding her royal standing … yet on the other, some things couldn't be simply tossed away like apple cores for fruit slimes!
Not a lot, yes … but our heirloom swords were certainly one of them!
"Excuse me," I said once my groan had subsided. "Are you telling me that this wrinkled old lady of no relation to me paid for lumps of bark … with a fabled artifact of my kingdom?"
The clockwork librarian raised a brow.
The beginnings of a frown did nothing but clash with her vibrantly pink hair.
"Those lumps of bark served as both guardians and tourist attractions. The first treants were gifted a thousand years ago to my master by the elves in recognition of his strength. They help shepherd the forest, keeping the golden leaves captured forever in keeping with the splendour of the Autumn Court."
"So they make for passable tea tables. This is clearly an unfair trade. An enchanted sword is not suitable payment for furniture. This is sheer robbery."
"I assure you, it's the other way around. The treants demanded nothing less than copious amounts of blood to help nourish the soil. To accept only a sword is a travesty."
"In that case, you'll need to offer your gratitude as well as all previously mentioned. If your forest had absorbed a drop of that woman's blood, it would have become a wasteland as wrinkled as her forehead, to say nothing of your own after having spent enough time on the ground."
I lifted Starlight Grace, silencing the reply to come.
"My apologies, but as much as I enjoy critiquing a performance to the end, I lack both the patience and the rotting fruit. Know, however, that I am thoroughly unmoved with what Ouzelia has to offer."
There was no shifting in posture from the librarian before me.
Even so, the eyes narrowing towards my sword spoke more than any stiffening of shoulders could.
"... Ouzelia has nothing to offer its critics," she replied, her tone shorn of the expected remorse. "Or to outsiders. Whatever your accomplishments to date, they are irrelevant. You possess no tale in this place."
"Excellent. Because other than a burgeoning cult in my name, I intend to come and go as the breeze. Yes, even if that is a slow trotting pace. I have places to be. And all of them involve comparing the softness of my cheeks against the pile of imported cushions waiting to be judged by me."
Fleur raised her stolen sword in a pose I'd seen often.
Copied from the stances of knights as they readied themselves to lunge towards their foes, it was a strike so telegraphed that I knew to expect nothing short of a projectile sneeze directly into my face.
"I can hurry you away, if you'd like," she said lightly. "You should know that I can already do more than mirror the techniques that intriguing human displayed. I am able to better them."
I rolled my eyes as required.
"Please. To claim you can impersonate how that woman abuses heirloom artifacts is one thing. But to even dream you can replicate her guile is the most insulting thing you've said. A lack of chivalry is not something you can copy. It is something you are."
A smile answered me.
"I am an exceptional learner."
And then–
The clockwork librarian twisted around, easily meeting the swing of the scythe towards her back.
Her hand reached up and caught the falling shaft, holding it in place. But there was no note of triumph. Only a knitted brow as she immediately turned her eyes to me, sword raised to bat away the paired strike which Coppelia's distraction demanded. A low blow as predictable as it was destined to be swatted aside along with an innocently whistling princess.
No such attack came.
Starlight Grace remained firmly in my hand … but not the fistful of gold scooped from a nearby hoard.
"... [Princess Throw]!"
Eyes instantly widened in bewilderment.
After all, this was hardly a rotten fruit leaving my palm. And yet for defeating someone who possessed only a smidgeon of my grandmother's guile, it was more than appropriate.
Dawning Summer rose at once to swipe the coins away.
Already, the eyes behind the sword were upon my next action. For as talented as I was in hurling small objects, to a clockwork doll whose reactions were matched only by another, here was an attack which was less a minor inconvenience and more a desperate distraction.
Thus, a stolen sword swept through the air.
And then … did absolutely nothing as the hand which held it froze alongside a stupefied expression.
Ohohohohoho!
Here it was! An attack so unchivalrous it permitted no defence!
Indeed, for my sword to clash against another belonging to my family was utterly unthinkable. Not only was it highly inappropriate, but the amount of damage would be inexcusable.
Fortunately, I had no need to use Starlight Grace as a shield.
Not when basic avarice was far more reliable.
The folly of amateur and seasoned schemers alike. They would see gold traded, wasted and covered in blood. But they would sooner send a blade through their own back than what they connived to gather.
The result–a single moment of hesitation.
It was more than enough. The librarian winced as a smattering of coins was clumsily met by the back of her hand. A grievous error. And one she realised even before the first coins clinked to the ground.
She turned. And then saw that in her other hand, only she was contesting Coppelia's scythe.
My loyal handmaiden was busy wearing a telltale smile. A thing almost as ominous as the fingertip she reached out.
"[Coppelia Flick]!"
Ping.
An expression of grief was all her victim could manage as the large golden key protruding from her back suddenly turned … over and over again.
Like a windmill met by a sudden gale, it blurred as it rotated. A distinct whirring noise filled the air which I'd only ever heard from Clarise's observatory.
I was aghast.
"Coppelia! Did you just consign your colleague to explode? … Because she hasn't written a confession yet!"
"Ahaha~ don't worry, she's not going to explode." Coppelia casually stepped away and waited. "... Yup, definitely not going to explode! That only happens when you spin our keys wrong."
"I wasn't aware there was an option other than wrong."
I peered between Fleur and the least rocky piece of ground to lay down on.
While not quite exploding, she clearly wore an expression which indicated she wished to.
"Our keys are highly delicate instruments," she answered, her voice more or less a single sigh as her key slowly winded down into individual clicks. "They serve as a vital cog to ensure our continued ability to function. But they carry instructions as well, each twist and turn precisely calibrated to result in a specific prompt which disregards our standard limitations."
"I see … and what happens when it's violently spun like my horse's mane after a light drizzle in the rain?"
"I currently have 18,268 instructions queued, most of which are to immediately clean the romance bookshelves."
I gasped at the unexpected revelation.
"A-Amazing! To think that tailored housekeeping is a predetermined command! Is there a specific way to wind your key to pour a pristine chamomile tea?"
"Don't be silly." Coppelia idly waved my query away. "There's no way something like that would–"
"1 turn 43 degrees clockwise. 2 turns 27 degrees counterclockwise. 1 turn mmffffngh–"
"Ahahaha~" Coppelia wrapped her hand around her colleague's mouth, all the while swatting at her golden key until it was once again spinning to an invisible gust. "Oh boy, looks like someone needs their repairs! An unrefusable command to pour perfect tea? What a weird and super annoying thing that'd be!"
I rushed forwards at once, planting my hands upon the gagged librarian's shoulders.
"T-Tell me the rest!" I demanded while shaking her furiously. "Tell me and I shall grant you asylum in my kingdom! All your crimes will be pardoned! I … I will even raise you to nobility! What is the secret?! How do I direct Coppelia to pour tea on my every whim?!"
I paused to allow a response.
For a moment, Fleur stood utterly still, indignation written on every inch of her face.
Fuoomph.
It was likely still there when she flopped down.
Like a salmon surrendering itself to my dinner plate, she crashed heavily to the ground. Dawning Summer was freed from her grip as plumes of fresh dust marked her silhouette for all to admire when the Cult of Juliette came to requisition this mountain as its official headquarters.
"Aaaand that's what happens when you have too many instructions," explained Coppelia brightly.
A huff of indignation came in response, muffled by the ground.
"This is unseemly," said the unmoving librarian, earning no argument from me. "Neither of you have cause to hinder me. This is for the financial safeguarding of the Hidden Library. Something the Kingdom of Tirea stands to benefit greatly from as well."
"My kingdom has no need for a maddened dragon to assist it. It is enough to have those who understand the difference between loyalty and gall. If you're fortunate, perhaps you might find a dictionary now that you're consigned to cleaning shelves for the foreseeable future."
I could almost hear the nose wrinkling.
"The shelves do not need cleaning."
"Then I suggest you see to it with vigour. It is a worthy cause, and far more generous than you deserve. I shall be frank. You are a severe downgrade from the horrors I've had to endure. Not only is your scheme middling, but you've neither a sister's robes nor a lich's public nudity to threaten my vomit. You make for a highly underwhelming final act."
The back of a head quivered.
After significant effort, Fleur just about turned her face to reveal the corner of a smile.
"... Yes, I suppose that much is true."
Clink.
Suddenly, a gold crown rolled to a stop before me.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Then another. And another.
Coins glinted as they came forth like a gentle wave, prodding the back of my boots and Coppelia's waiting palms.
At first.
Pwiiissshhh.
Because a moment later, the gold tumbled down as fast as Coppelia and I could inventory it for official purposes and absolutely nothing else.
The sound of shifting coins began to reverberate like the dancing of forest leaves. But this was no mysterious breeze causing the hum against my ears.
No … it was an enormous tail wreathed in emerald scales as it slowly came alive.
"A curious thing, isn't it?" came a musing voice from the floor. "To dragons, the sound of battle is but a note in a lullaby they have long grown accustomed to. But to hear a single coin rolling away from their hoard is a screech which haunts their dreams."
The movement ceased, as shortly as it began.
Silence reverberated throughout the cavern.
And then–
A lidded eye slowly opened, revealing a black slit nestled amidst a pond of shining jade.
A dazzling sight. All the more so when the green caught the reflection of the golden hoard underneath.
The image was so clear that I could count the individual coins. And then they were lost as the colours merged. One ebbing while the other flowed. The jade diminished like spring leaves caught by autumn's grasp. And what had glimmered on its own account now shone with the telltale hue of greed.
A golden eye blinked.
The next moment–all the world shook.
For a dragon had woken from its slumber.
Grandmother did what Grandmother did. And that was whatever she wished, whenever she wished.
As was her right, of course.
When people spoke about her, they didn't refer to her by name. They simply sniffled and a tear dropped down. Having endured a life of instilling grey hairs upon everyone younger than her, it was only appropriate she'd do more than retire to her chamber where a servant was still tearfully holding up a tea pot she said she'd return to once it'd sufficiently cooled.
That was eight months ago.
An admittedly long brewing time, yes … but to traverse the corners of the world while her darjeeling matured to the point of tar was only fitting for one so accomplished. To see and hear first hand how her legacy was viewed across the continent was as much her right as it was her obligation.
Naturally, I held only the deepest affections for her.
Aside from the fact she was family, she was also the previous owner of Starlight Grace. Because for all her many accomplishments, her ability to safeguard that which every giant magpie and roadside hooligan wished to pilfer was one of her greatest.
… Or so I thought.
I groaned as I viewed the inglorious fate of my sword's successor.
It'd practically been bartered … and without any haggling, by the sounds of it!
On one hand, to be so utterly dismissive towards the treasured artifacts of our kingdom was certainly a high mark regarding her royal standing … yet on the other, some things couldn't be simply tossed away like apple cores for fruit slimes!
Not a lot, yes … but our heirloom swords were certainly one of them!
"Excuse me," I said once my groan had subsided. "Are you telling me that this wrinkled old lady of no relation to me paid for lumps of bark … with a fabled artifact of my kingdom?"
The clockwork librarian raised a brow.
The beginnings of a frown did nothing but clash with her vibrantly pink hair.
"Those lumps of bark served as both guardians and tourist attractions. The first treants were gifted a thousand years ago to my master by the elves in recognition of his strength. They help shepherd the forest, keeping the golden leaves captured forever in keeping with the splendour of the Autumn Court."
"So they make for passable tea tables. This is clearly an unfair trade. An enchanted sword is not suitable payment for furniture. This is sheer robbery."
"I assure you, it's the other way around. The treants demanded nothing less than copious amounts of blood to help nourish the soil. To accept only a sword is a travesty."
"In that case, you'll need to offer your gratitude as well as all previously mentioned. If your forest had absorbed a drop of that woman's blood, it would have become a wasteland as wrinkled as her forehead, to say nothing of your own after having spent enough time on the ground."
I lifted Starlight Grace, silencing the reply to come.
"My apologies, but as much as I enjoy critiquing a performance to the end, I lack both the patience and the rotting fruit. Know, however, that I am thoroughly unmoved with what Ouzelia has to offer."
There was no shifting in posture from the librarian before me.
Even so, the eyes narrowing towards my sword spoke more than any stiffening of shoulders could.
"... Ouzelia has nothing to offer its critics," she replied, her tone shorn of the expected remorse. "Or to outsiders. Whatever your accomplishments to date, they are irrelevant. You possess no tale in this place."
"Excellent. Because other than a burgeoning cult in my name, I intend to come and go as the breeze. Yes, even if that is a slow trotting pace. I have places to be. And all of them involve comparing the softness of my cheeks against the pile of imported cushions waiting to be judged by me."
Fleur raised her stolen sword in a pose I'd seen often.
Copied from the stances of knights as they readied themselves to lunge towards their foes, it was a strike so telegraphed that I knew to expect nothing short of a projectile sneeze directly into my face.
"I can hurry you away, if you'd like," she said lightly. "You should know that I can already do more than mirror the techniques that intriguing human displayed. I am able to better them."
I rolled my eyes as required.
"Please. To claim you can impersonate how that woman abuses heirloom artifacts is one thing. But to even dream you can replicate her guile is the most insulting thing you've said. A lack of chivalry is not something you can copy. It is something you are."
A smile answered me.
"I am an exceptional learner."
And then–
The clockwork librarian twisted around, easily meeting the swing of the scythe towards her back.
Her hand reached up and caught the falling shaft, holding it in place. But there was no note of triumph. Only a knitted brow as she immediately turned her eyes to me, sword raised to bat away the paired strike which Coppelia's distraction demanded. A low blow as predictable as it was destined to be swatted aside along with an innocently whistling princess.
No such attack came.
Starlight Grace remained firmly in my hand … but not the fistful of gold scooped from a nearby hoard.
"... [Princess Throw]!"
Eyes instantly widened in bewilderment.
After all, this was hardly a rotten fruit leaving my palm. And yet for defeating someone who possessed only a smidgeon of my grandmother's guile, it was more than appropriate.
Dawning Summer rose at once to swipe the coins away.
Already, the eyes behind the sword were upon my next action. For as talented as I was in hurling small objects, to a clockwork doll whose reactions were matched only by another, here was an attack which was less a minor inconvenience and more a desperate distraction.
Thus, a stolen sword swept through the air.
And then … did absolutely nothing as the hand which held it froze alongside a stupefied expression.
Ohohohohoho!
Here it was! An attack so unchivalrous it permitted no defence!
Indeed, for my sword to clash against another belonging to my family was utterly unthinkable. Not only was it highly inappropriate, but the amount of damage would be inexcusable.
Fortunately, I had no need to use Starlight Grace as a shield.
Not when basic avarice was far more reliable.
The folly of amateur and seasoned schemers alike. They would see gold traded, wasted and covered in blood. But they would sooner send a blade through their own back than what they connived to gather.
The result–a single moment of hesitation.
It was more than enough. The librarian winced as a smattering of coins was clumsily met by the back of her hand. A grievous error. And one she realised even before the first coins clinked to the ground.
She turned. And then saw that in her other hand, only she was contesting Coppelia's scythe.
My loyal handmaiden was busy wearing a telltale smile. A thing almost as ominous as the fingertip she reached out.
"[Coppelia Flick]!"
Ping.
An expression of grief was all her victim could manage as the large golden key protruding from her back suddenly turned … over and over again.
Like a windmill met by a sudden gale, it blurred as it rotated. A distinct whirring noise filled the air which I'd only ever heard from Clarise's observatory.
I was aghast.
"Coppelia! Did you just consign your colleague to explode? … Because she hasn't written a confession yet!"
"Ahaha~ don't worry, she's not going to explode." Coppelia casually stepped away and waited. "... Yup, definitely not going to explode! That only happens when you spin our keys wrong."
"I wasn't aware there was an option other than wrong."
I peered between Fleur and the least rocky piece of ground to lay down on.
While not quite exploding, she clearly wore an expression which indicated she wished to.
"Our keys are highly delicate instruments," she answered, her voice more or less a single sigh as her key slowly winded down into individual clicks. "They serve as a vital cog to ensure our continued ability to function. But they carry instructions as well, each twist and turn precisely calibrated to result in a specific prompt which disregards our standard limitations."
"I see … and what happens when it's violently spun like my horse's mane after a light drizzle in the rain?"
"I currently have 18,268 instructions queued, most of which are to immediately clean the romance bookshelves."
I gasped at the unexpected revelation.
"A-Amazing! To think that tailored housekeeping is a predetermined command! Is there a specific way to wind your key to pour a pristine chamomile tea?"
"Don't be silly." Coppelia idly waved my query away. "There's no way something like that would–"
"1 turn 43 degrees clockwise. 2 turns 27 degrees counterclockwise. 1 turn mmffffngh–"
"Ahahaha~" Coppelia wrapped her hand around her colleague's mouth, all the while swatting at her golden key until it was once again spinning to an invisible gust. "Oh boy, looks like someone needs their repairs! An unrefusable command to pour perfect tea? What a weird and super annoying thing that'd be!"
I rushed forwards at once, planting my hands upon the gagged librarian's shoulders.
"T-Tell me the rest!" I demanded while shaking her furiously. "Tell me and I shall grant you asylum in my kingdom! All your crimes will be pardoned! I … I will even raise you to nobility! What is the secret?! How do I direct Coppelia to pour tea on my every whim?!"
I paused to allow a response.
For a moment, Fleur stood utterly still, indignation written on every inch of her face.
Fuoomph.
It was likely still there when she flopped down.
Like a salmon surrendering itself to my dinner plate, she crashed heavily to the ground. Dawning Summer was freed from her grip as plumes of fresh dust marked her silhouette for all to admire when the Cult of Juliette came to requisition this mountain as its official headquarters.
"Aaaand that's what happens when you have too many instructions," explained Coppelia brightly.
A huff of indignation came in response, muffled by the ground.
"This is unseemly," said the unmoving librarian, earning no argument from me. "Neither of you have cause to hinder me. This is for the financial safeguarding of the Hidden Library. Something the Kingdom of Tirea stands to benefit greatly from as well."
"My kingdom has no need for a maddened dragon to assist it. It is enough to have those who understand the difference between loyalty and gall. If you're fortunate, perhaps you might find a dictionary now that you're consigned to cleaning shelves for the foreseeable future."
I could almost hear the nose wrinkling.
"The shelves do not need cleaning."
"Then I suggest you see to it with vigour. It is a worthy cause, and far more generous than you deserve. I shall be frank. You are a severe downgrade from the horrors I've had to endure. Not only is your scheme middling, but you've neither a sister's robes nor a lich's public nudity to threaten my vomit. You make for a highly underwhelming final act."
The back of a head quivered.
After significant effort, Fleur just about turned her face to reveal the corner of a smile.
"... Yes, I suppose that much is true."
Clink.
Suddenly, a gold crown rolled to a stop before me.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Then another. And another.
Coins glinted as they came forth like a gentle wave, prodding the back of my boots and Coppelia's waiting palms.
At first.
Pwiiissshhh.
Because a moment later, the gold tumbled down as fast as Coppelia and I could inventory it for official purposes and absolutely nothing else.
The sound of shifting coins began to reverberate like the dancing of forest leaves. But this was no mysterious breeze causing the hum against my ears.
No … it was an enormous tail wreathed in emerald scales as it slowly came alive.
"A curious thing, isn't it?" came a musing voice from the floor. "To dragons, the sound of battle is but a note in a lullaby they have long grown accustomed to. But to hear a single coin rolling away from their hoard is a screech which haunts their dreams."
The movement ceased, as shortly as it began.
Silence reverberated throughout the cavern.
And then–
A lidded eye slowly opened, revealing a black slit nestled amidst a pond of shining jade.
A dazzling sight. All the more so when the green caught the reflection of the golden hoard underneath.
The image was so clear that I could count the individual coins. And then they were lost as the colours merged. One ebbing while the other flowed. The jade diminished like spring leaves caught by autumn's grasp. And what had glimmered on its own account now shone with the telltale hue of greed.
A golden eye blinked.
The next moment–all the world shook.
For a dragon had woken from its slumber.
- Location
- Argentina
And you are a princess, if he fails to notice that he will literally be mocked by other dragons for all eternity.
And now Fleur learns the truth.
The only thing greater than a dragon's greed for gold is their pride. Pride is why this dragon could choose to horde books instead of gold.
Fleur misunderstood. For having a princess rescue a dragon is so backwards that the rumor of this is going to tank the dragon's reputation.
The only thing greater than a dragon's greed for gold is their pride. Pride is why this dragon could choose to horde books instead of gold.
Fleur misunderstood. For having a princess rescue a dragon is so backwards that the rumor of this is going to tank the dragon's reputation.
Unknown to all, a single banana peel lies in the middle of the floor.
Chapter 310: Into The Fire
New
Dragons.
There was little which needed to be said. Even those who had never known the terror of a badger nibbling upon a purple azalea knew the tale of dragons.
Where liches and receptionists fought to climb higher upon the ladder of children's nightmares, they did so only as paupers elbowing each other over rungs which dragons had long soared over. They were kings of earth and sky, residing not upon the world, but over it.
And here was one so regal it could only be woken by a princess's gentle presence.
Like a mountain of emeralds given life, the dragon slowly shifted. A waterfall of coins cascaded down its enormous form, the odd few becoming stuck between its scales.
Golden eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, gazed without focus at the modest hoard serving as a bed.
Its response was the same as mine. A wrinkling of the nose. Except this one came with a cloud of smoke. As its nostrils flared, twin plumes able to warm the temperature of the cavern rushed out, darkening what little sky could be gleaned from the fissure high above.
A moment later–it turned its head.
Cheeks as hard as bedrock and horns more pointed than any lance came to rest against the bed of gold. Yet any hope this was a pillow to help it return to slumber was lost.
Even as its head rested, its eyes did not.
The haze lessened. The slit of its pupils narrowing as the starch began to fade. And a gaze filled with a familiar greed began to count each and every coin.
Indeed … I knew this look well.
After all, there was only one thing which could surpass even a dragon's greed. And that was the hubris of every dignitary to have laid eyes upon my father's throne.
I preferred none of them.
Thus, I turned to Coppelia and nodded.
"Very well. We have a dragon."
"We sure do~! Look, isn't he nice and cuddly? And by nice and cuddly, I mean huge and spiky."
"He'll certainly require one of the larger tea tables, yes."
"You can probably give him any. I think he's in a good mood. Normally, he'd have yelled at us and demanded pancakes for waking him up already. Isn't this wonderful?"
A fresh plume of smoke billowed from the corners of the dragon's maw. A telltale sign of someone so averse to being woken that no words of complaint could suffice.
I sympathised. But even that went only so far.
"What is wonderful would be a greeting," I said with a rueful shake of my head. "For a dragon to be so mesmerised by gold that neither thought nor gift is spared to a visitor harks to the days they rained terror and destruction upon the continent, sending all life fleeing before them."
Coppelia nodded.
After a moment, she remembered to turn off her smile as well.
"And that is bad." Coppelia paused, waiting in case I had to correct her. "Very, very bad."
"Indeed, it would be terrible. The hedgehogs would have free reign to multiply with abandon."
"That's exactly what I meant. If all human towns and the smells they constantly make were erased, the rest of us would be overwhelmed with the scent of fresh flowers and happiness."
"Happiness is already prevalent throughout my kingdom. It is mandatory while my subjects are shielded by the warmth of my family. We do not require competition from a dragon's flame."
Coppelia leaned down and poked at her fallen colleague.
One whose final test was failed by the lack of any gloating.
Instead, she was taking the place of the previously sleeping dragon, her idle smile galling but insufficient as she closed her eyes to the world's dissatisfaction. Only the key on her back moved, the individual clicks now discernible as the turns slowed.
"You'll need to ask Fleur once she exits emergency napping mode. Which you should hope is soon. I'm actually not too sure what the big guy will do now, since she was the one with the reins and all."
"If she had the means to goad this dragon into doing whatever she wished, then surely you do as well?"
"Eeehh … I dunno, she was always his favourite. Maybe because she did small things like all the finances, the scheduling, the management and the pancake restocking. I don't think I'm getting through. Not with this goldlust. That's a pretty serious thing."
"I see … is it a disease, then?"
"Nope. A disease can be cured. This is worse. You know how peasants like drowning themselves in alcohol to distract themselves from their worthless and miserable existences? Goldlust is like that. Except they collect treasure instead of alcohol, they're a lot less picky about which places they embarrass themselves in and after they pass out, they're out for two centuries."
I nodded at the grim sight.
Indeed, I saw it far too easily.
A dragon sated, asleep, and thoroughly clogging up room within the Royal Villa's vault.
There were practical applications to possessing a sleeping dragon, of course–stewards accidentally leading our nobility down several wrong hallways while also accidentally locking all the doors behind them being one of them. But not at the cost of our wealth being used as a mattress.
Why, that'd simply be awful. What would my troll do? It'd be a professional insult to make him guard what a dragon already was.
"No worries, though~" said Coppelia, uttering the only words to make me worry. "I can fix this!"
Thus … she lifted up her scythe.
I was horrified.
"Excuse me! You surely cannot mean to murder your employer? That is not a precedent I wish to set!"
"Eh? I'm not going to murder him! I'm just going to hit him really hard!"
"... That isn't trying to murder him?!"
"Ahaha~ don't worry. There's no way that's anything more than a tickle. And for the big guy, it'll be aimed right above his brows. One scratch there and it's back to snoozing!"
"Coppelia, this is a dragon, not a cat."
"... Would you prefer it if this was a cat?"
I thought for a moment.
"No," I admitted.
Coppelia gave an unabashed giggle.
Then, she raised her arms and stretched, before promptly bounding away with graceful ease.
Paying as little care to mortal danger as she did bakery signs not to touch the products, she leapt fearlessly like a moth to a flame.
Higher and higher she went, her lithe form going unseen against the commanding presence of the dragon as it exited the realm of dreams. And then with an unnecessary twist in the air, she came down with her scythe held high above her in a tickle which looked remarkably like a normal attack.
"Dusk falls anew, the last light amidst paling faith. Luna Form, 6th Stance ... [Moonlit Divider]."
So normal, in fact, that only a falling piano offered a harsher entry back into the world of slumber.
Her scythe cleaved the air, leaving behind a trail of light to defy the same shadows which wreathed it. A sight usually guaranteeing that something which existed now wouldn't in a few moments.
Instead–
Plink.
An unscathed dragon was the result.
Her scythe struck with all the force of a toothpick against a boulder, comically bouncing off the scales at the crown of its head. However, that didn't mean there was no effect.
The golden eyes blinked.
Once, twice, three times … until finally the lids began to close once again.
I was stunned. As was Coppelia.
"Huh," she said while idly hanging off the tip of a horn. "I wasn't expecting that to happen."
"... Does that mean it actually worked?"
"Maybe. And that's a problem."
"Why is that a problem?"
"Because these things never work."
A sudden inhalation of breath from the dragon confirmed her well-founded fears.
All at once, a wave of gold crowns rushed towards its snout. The eyes which had begun to close remained half-lidded. And cheeks which had no means to form expressions nevertheless grew taut, the wrinkles becoming apparent even through the scales.
And then … an altogether different crease appeared upon its face.
One I'd seen often. Most keenly by the Holy Church's highest representative as he was led through the Royal Villa's expansive gardens, all of us having forgotten about his debilitating pollen allergy. Again.
This … This dragon.
Why, it was about to do something unfathomable!
… And the direction it faced was where a princess stood and a fallen librarian now lay!
Horrified at what was to come, I turned at once towards the helpless figure beside me.
Without thought, I moved at once.
My limbs obeyed naught but instinct as I hurriedly leaned down, reached out towards the defenceless girl, and with no regard to my own safety, bravely grabbed Dawning Summer and scampered away.
"Hm … hmmmpph!"
The flame which was unleashed was like the heart of a volcano bursting asunder.
A sudden belt of molten lava erupted from the dragon's maw, joined by a plume of smoke blacker than tar as it charred the very air. But this was no mage's replica. It was a force unrestrained, able to melt the coldest steel along with the anvil which forged it.
And now it was billowing towards me like a streaking comet.
The temperature rose as though an open kiln had been dropped into a cupboard. Yet for all the light which now filled the cavern, all I saw was the blackness of death. A premonition written in every tale to involve a dragon's flame.
To be struck by dragonfire was to enjoy a brief cremation without ceremony.
That was poor enough. But this was somehow worse.
This … This was a sneeze!
Not even a stream of flame sent out in anger … but an allergic reaction to Coppelia!
To die to a dragon in righteous combat was at least inoffensive. But to die to a dragon due to it being tickled behind the ears? Why, that was so humiliating my ghost would never find rest amidst all the laughter!
No. I refused to contemplate it.
Dragon or not, my end would come at a time and place of my choosing. And my schedule was currently so filled I didn't need to look at it. Every action I took ticked something off.
All except death because a dragon didn't use a handkerchief.
Thus, raising Starlight Grace, I …
Fwooooooooooooosh.
… looked to the side as Dawning Summer promptly caught fire in my other hand.
"Wha–?!"
To my utter shock, what was a summer's glow now became a living brand.
One which drew all the molten snot towards it like rain towards a gutter.
Alight with the fury of a hearthfire doused with kindling and lamp oil, the sword bloomed as the dragonfire was absorbed … no, devoured.
Ribbons lashed the air as though cast forth from a whip, while embers dripped from the tip like a thousand fireflies.
A sight so beautiful and mesmerising, I could do nothing but immediately toss Grandmother's sword to the ground, before promptly kicking dirt over it in order to smother the sudden flames.
It … It was terrifying!
"S-Stop! Stop at once!" I told the sword, increasing the pace of my shovelling. "Stop! You are only to burst into flames on demand! And only at a level which doesn't overshadow my own brightness!"
Far from obeying its new owner, the sword only continued to merrily burn. A flame so wildly impractical even the hilt was now entirely wreathed.
That, as it turned out, was the least of my problems.
"Hrrhmmmmmmm."
Smoke and flames exited the dragon's snout once more. Except this time, it wasn't to signal another sneeze.
Our dragon was now very much awake.
Bwoomph. Bwooomph.
The sound of drums filled the cavern.
One by one, clawed legs wide enough to turn a hill giant into its own artisanal purée lifted from its bed, then slammed back into the gold.
Like a princess sampling a new bath mat, the dragon's great legs languidly tested the fine texture and the cooling metal.
Coppelia finally swung away as the dragon rose.
Higher and higher it went. A visage of regal power wrapped in the displeasure of one who was clearly not an early riser. As the dragon presented itself upon its hind legs, not a single missing scale was there to be exploited. And yet for all its majesty, it was still besmirched by a great blemish.
Those eyes doused in the foreign colour of gold, clashing with the green of its birth.
"GWWAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR."
It roared.
A bellow so visceral, so primal it shook through the arms covering my ears.
The ground itself quaked along with my limbs as the world threatened to end. Dust and bits of stone came falling down. And also Coppelia as she landed beside me, enthusiastic smile at the ready.
"Safe~" She turned to me and nodded. "... Okay! You get to decide! How do you want to be carried?"
I gingerly released my ears, still hearing the bellowing.
"Excuse me?"
"Over my shoulder or under my arm? You get to pick how you want to escape the giant fireball by the big grumpy dragon when he notices us in about five seconds."
My mouth widened.
"C-Coppelia! … There are more appropriate ways to carry me than either as a rug or as a sack!"
"... Like as a fruit slime? Because that's less carrying and more throwing and catching you as I go."
An appalling suggestion … and not because experiencing that at least once sounded the slightest bit intriguing.
"There will be no need to carry me," I declared, turning my frown towards the dragon as its tail scooped up a line of glittering coins. "We are not escaping."
"Now that's just pessimistic. We're really good at escaping explosions."
"Yes … Yes we are. But that's beside the point. I do not mean to escape from this dragon. Not if it means seeing him again along with my mother asking why I seem to know him. I intend to put this entire Ouzelia debacle behind me. Not punt it down the road."
"GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR."
A second bellow filled the cavern.
No … not just a bellow, but a yawn.
Accompanied by a stretching of wings, they swept outwards like a pair of windmills. The shadows were even greater. An endless mural of darkness painted upon the cavern wall behind by the light of two swords.
One of which I was still trying to put out.
For a moment, even my loyal handmaiden could only blink at me.
However, any doubts she harboured were given no leave to fester. Nothing could break the strength of my noble intentions. And even less my wish to avoid association with this land of oddballs at all costs.
Thus, she nodded … then offered all her assistance by sitting atop her fallen colleague.
"Wooooooooooooooo!!" Coppelia raised an arm in cheer. "It's time! The next stage of [Ball Of Doom]!"
"E-Excuse me! Please do not spread that name unnecessarily! It is not [Ball Of Doom]! It is a delicate gardening technique! … Furthermore, I am still in the process of refining the current iterations …"
"No problem! Cheap and underhanded is also good!"
"A slanderous insinuation. I am as fair and honourable as the kingdom I represent. And so long as your apple strudels are funded directly from our personal funds, that is the official line."
"Got it~ how do you plan on fairly beating the really big dragon, then?"
I looked up at the dragon in question.
It didn't take a forum of sages to know that there was only one answer–I didn't.
After all, if a princess could simply defeat a dragon, I wouldn't count them as my natural foes.
However … that didn't mean I had no contingencies in place.
On the contrary, it was precisely because I was a princess that I was uniquely suited to the task ahead.
Knights may have lances and heroes outrageous amounts of luck. But I had a weapon greater than both.
Not for slaying dragons. But for surviving them.
"I've no means of felling this dragon. But I've no need to. It is time to perform Emergency Dragon Protocol #57."
Coppelia nodded with excitement, fists tightly scrunched against her chest.
"Ooooh~ I never knew there were contingencies for facing a dragon which wasn't running away faster than the guy next to you!"
"There isn't. For commoners, at least." I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. "Ohohoho … rejoice, Coppelia. And observe. For you shall now see a sight to burn into your memories brighter than any dragon flame. Note what you shall see, but never speak of it again."
"Okie~"
I nodded … and then took a deep breath.
Yes, it was time at last to display my true qualities as a princess.
Thus, I patted myself down, then left the cheering of my audience behind as I strolled towards the disgruntled behemoth of death.
An action so without precedent that the dragon shook away its waking temper to at last see the fragile maiden in its midst.
Within those maddened eyes, the black slits widened with all the right of one appalled at the impertinence of an open thief.
"GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR."
Except I was no such thing.
I was an honoured guest.
And so I ignored the bellowing, trained as I was by the echoes in the Royal Villa whenever my father stubbed his toe against a door. I ignored the embers dribbling from the jaws, accustomed to the flames regularly seen exiting Clarise's observatory. And I ignored the gaze of unremitting death, seeing only a pale imitation of my etiquette tutor when she found me admiring the vines beneath a window.
The dragon was unimpressed.
A neck stretched out as its entire frame lowered.
The rows of guillotine teeth were revealed, each capable of grinding a chimney until it was indistinguishable from the soot it bore. Within its maw, an endless darkness was punctuated only by the heart of a flame so ancient it could melt the Summer Fae.
And against it all, I lifted Starlight Grace … then idly sheathed it away.
I offered a polite smile instead.
"Salutations," I said with a nod, knees slightly bent, lifting the very hem of my skirt in a perfectly angled curtsy. "I am Princess Juliette Contzen, 5th in line to the Kingdom of Tirea. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
The dragon stilled.
The smoke exiting its orifices didn't lessen. But the shadows behind its wings did.
A moment later … it blinked.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Except this time, it wasn't the allure of gold it saw.
No … it was something far rarer, beyond the worth of any trove or the beauty of any trinket. Something which shone brighter than the lustre of any coin or jewel.
A candle in the darkness, washing away the delirium of greed.
… Me.
Ohhohohohoho!
Here it was! My ultimate ability!
[Princess Presence]!
Indeed … I did not need my healing fingertip for this!
All I required was my own aura … a light so warm and gentle, that a fourth blink later, neither curse nor madness could hold sway!
Like the first breath after a deep plunge, the dragon shuddered, sending not the tremor of a quake, but a song as calming as a summer draft through the air.
The shadows rescinded. The veil of avarice was lifted from its eyes.
And what remained was as smooth as the finest jade.
After all–
Gold spoke to its greed. Yet I spoke to its heart.
A princess without equal, even in the realm of fairy tales.
Thus … the dragon promptly reached out and wrapped a claw around me.
I nodded and smiled.
Yes.
This was indeed better.
There was little which needed to be said. Even those who had never known the terror of a badger nibbling upon a purple azalea knew the tale of dragons.
Where liches and receptionists fought to climb higher upon the ladder of children's nightmares, they did so only as paupers elbowing each other over rungs which dragons had long soared over. They were kings of earth and sky, residing not upon the world, but over it.
And here was one so regal it could only be woken by a princess's gentle presence.
Like a mountain of emeralds given life, the dragon slowly shifted. A waterfall of coins cascaded down its enormous form, the odd few becoming stuck between its scales.
Golden eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, gazed without focus at the modest hoard serving as a bed.
Its response was the same as mine. A wrinkling of the nose. Except this one came with a cloud of smoke. As its nostrils flared, twin plumes able to warm the temperature of the cavern rushed out, darkening what little sky could be gleaned from the fissure high above.
A moment later–it turned its head.
Cheeks as hard as bedrock and horns more pointed than any lance came to rest against the bed of gold. Yet any hope this was a pillow to help it return to slumber was lost.
Even as its head rested, its eyes did not.
The haze lessened. The slit of its pupils narrowing as the starch began to fade. And a gaze filled with a familiar greed began to count each and every coin.
Indeed … I knew this look well.
After all, there was only one thing which could surpass even a dragon's greed. And that was the hubris of every dignitary to have laid eyes upon my father's throne.
I preferred none of them.
Thus, I turned to Coppelia and nodded.
"Very well. We have a dragon."
"We sure do~! Look, isn't he nice and cuddly? And by nice and cuddly, I mean huge and spiky."
"He'll certainly require one of the larger tea tables, yes."
"You can probably give him any. I think he's in a good mood. Normally, he'd have yelled at us and demanded pancakes for waking him up already. Isn't this wonderful?"
A fresh plume of smoke billowed from the corners of the dragon's maw. A telltale sign of someone so averse to being woken that no words of complaint could suffice.
I sympathised. But even that went only so far.
"What is wonderful would be a greeting," I said with a rueful shake of my head. "For a dragon to be so mesmerised by gold that neither thought nor gift is spared to a visitor harks to the days they rained terror and destruction upon the continent, sending all life fleeing before them."
Coppelia nodded.
After a moment, she remembered to turn off her smile as well.
"And that is bad." Coppelia paused, waiting in case I had to correct her. "Very, very bad."
"Indeed, it would be terrible. The hedgehogs would have free reign to multiply with abandon."
"That's exactly what I meant. If all human towns and the smells they constantly make were erased, the rest of us would be overwhelmed with the scent of fresh flowers and happiness."
"Happiness is already prevalent throughout my kingdom. It is mandatory while my subjects are shielded by the warmth of my family. We do not require competition from a dragon's flame."
Coppelia leaned down and poked at her fallen colleague.
One whose final test was failed by the lack of any gloating.
Instead, she was taking the place of the previously sleeping dragon, her idle smile galling but insufficient as she closed her eyes to the world's dissatisfaction. Only the key on her back moved, the individual clicks now discernible as the turns slowed.
"You'll need to ask Fleur once she exits emergency napping mode. Which you should hope is soon. I'm actually not too sure what the big guy will do now, since she was the one with the reins and all."
"If she had the means to goad this dragon into doing whatever she wished, then surely you do as well?"
"Eeehh … I dunno, she was always his favourite. Maybe because she did small things like all the finances, the scheduling, the management and the pancake restocking. I don't think I'm getting through. Not with this goldlust. That's a pretty serious thing."
"I see … is it a disease, then?"
"Nope. A disease can be cured. This is worse. You know how peasants like drowning themselves in alcohol to distract themselves from their worthless and miserable existences? Goldlust is like that. Except they collect treasure instead of alcohol, they're a lot less picky about which places they embarrass themselves in and after they pass out, they're out for two centuries."
I nodded at the grim sight.
Indeed, I saw it far too easily.
A dragon sated, asleep, and thoroughly clogging up room within the Royal Villa's vault.
There were practical applications to possessing a sleeping dragon, of course–stewards accidentally leading our nobility down several wrong hallways while also accidentally locking all the doors behind them being one of them. But not at the cost of our wealth being used as a mattress.
Why, that'd simply be awful. What would my troll do? It'd be a professional insult to make him guard what a dragon already was.
"No worries, though~" said Coppelia, uttering the only words to make me worry. "I can fix this!"
Thus … she lifted up her scythe.
I was horrified.
"Excuse me! You surely cannot mean to murder your employer? That is not a precedent I wish to set!"
"Eh? I'm not going to murder him! I'm just going to hit him really hard!"
"... That isn't trying to murder him?!"
"Ahaha~ don't worry. There's no way that's anything more than a tickle. And for the big guy, it'll be aimed right above his brows. One scratch there and it's back to snoozing!"
"Coppelia, this is a dragon, not a cat."
"... Would you prefer it if this was a cat?"
I thought for a moment.
"No," I admitted.
Coppelia gave an unabashed giggle.
Then, she raised her arms and stretched, before promptly bounding away with graceful ease.
Paying as little care to mortal danger as she did bakery signs not to touch the products, she leapt fearlessly like a moth to a flame.
Higher and higher she went, her lithe form going unseen against the commanding presence of the dragon as it exited the realm of dreams. And then with an unnecessary twist in the air, she came down with her scythe held high above her in a tickle which looked remarkably like a normal attack.
"Dusk falls anew, the last light amidst paling faith. Luna Form, 6th Stance ... [Moonlit Divider]."
So normal, in fact, that only a falling piano offered a harsher entry back into the world of slumber.
Her scythe cleaved the air, leaving behind a trail of light to defy the same shadows which wreathed it. A sight usually guaranteeing that something which existed now wouldn't in a few moments.
Instead–
Plink.
An unscathed dragon was the result.
Her scythe struck with all the force of a toothpick against a boulder, comically bouncing off the scales at the crown of its head. However, that didn't mean there was no effect.
The golden eyes blinked.
Once, twice, three times … until finally the lids began to close once again.
I was stunned. As was Coppelia.
"Huh," she said while idly hanging off the tip of a horn. "I wasn't expecting that to happen."
"... Does that mean it actually worked?"
"Maybe. And that's a problem."
"Why is that a problem?"
"Because these things never work."
A sudden inhalation of breath from the dragon confirmed her well-founded fears.
All at once, a wave of gold crowns rushed towards its snout. The eyes which had begun to close remained half-lidded. And cheeks which had no means to form expressions nevertheless grew taut, the wrinkles becoming apparent even through the scales.
And then … an altogether different crease appeared upon its face.
One I'd seen often. Most keenly by the Holy Church's highest representative as he was led through the Royal Villa's expansive gardens, all of us having forgotten about his debilitating pollen allergy. Again.
This … This dragon.
Why, it was about to do something unfathomable!
… And the direction it faced was where a princess stood and a fallen librarian now lay!
Horrified at what was to come, I turned at once towards the helpless figure beside me.
Without thought, I moved at once.
My limbs obeyed naught but instinct as I hurriedly leaned down, reached out towards the defenceless girl, and with no regard to my own safety, bravely grabbed Dawning Summer and scampered away.
"Hm … hmmmpph!"
The flame which was unleashed was like the heart of a volcano bursting asunder.
A sudden belt of molten lava erupted from the dragon's maw, joined by a plume of smoke blacker than tar as it charred the very air. But this was no mage's replica. It was a force unrestrained, able to melt the coldest steel along with the anvil which forged it.
And now it was billowing towards me like a streaking comet.
The temperature rose as though an open kiln had been dropped into a cupboard. Yet for all the light which now filled the cavern, all I saw was the blackness of death. A premonition written in every tale to involve a dragon's flame.
To be struck by dragonfire was to enjoy a brief cremation without ceremony.
That was poor enough. But this was somehow worse.
This … This was a sneeze!
Not even a stream of flame sent out in anger … but an allergic reaction to Coppelia!
To die to a dragon in righteous combat was at least inoffensive. But to die to a dragon due to it being tickled behind the ears? Why, that was so humiliating my ghost would never find rest amidst all the laughter!
No. I refused to contemplate it.
Dragon or not, my end would come at a time and place of my choosing. And my schedule was currently so filled I didn't need to look at it. Every action I took ticked something off.
All except death because a dragon didn't use a handkerchief.
Thus, raising Starlight Grace, I …
Fwooooooooooooosh.
… looked to the side as Dawning Summer promptly caught fire in my other hand.
"Wha–?!"
To my utter shock, what was a summer's glow now became a living brand.
One which drew all the molten snot towards it like rain towards a gutter.
Alight with the fury of a hearthfire doused with kindling and lamp oil, the sword bloomed as the dragonfire was absorbed … no, devoured.
Ribbons lashed the air as though cast forth from a whip, while embers dripped from the tip like a thousand fireflies.
A sight so beautiful and mesmerising, I could do nothing but immediately toss Grandmother's sword to the ground, before promptly kicking dirt over it in order to smother the sudden flames.
It … It was terrifying!
"S-Stop! Stop at once!" I told the sword, increasing the pace of my shovelling. "Stop! You are only to burst into flames on demand! And only at a level which doesn't overshadow my own brightness!"
Far from obeying its new owner, the sword only continued to merrily burn. A flame so wildly impractical even the hilt was now entirely wreathed.
That, as it turned out, was the least of my problems.
"Hrrhmmmmmmm."
Smoke and flames exited the dragon's snout once more. Except this time, it wasn't to signal another sneeze.
Our dragon was now very much awake.
Bwoomph. Bwooomph.
The sound of drums filled the cavern.
One by one, clawed legs wide enough to turn a hill giant into its own artisanal purée lifted from its bed, then slammed back into the gold.
Like a princess sampling a new bath mat, the dragon's great legs languidly tested the fine texture and the cooling metal.
Coppelia finally swung away as the dragon rose.
Higher and higher it went. A visage of regal power wrapped in the displeasure of one who was clearly not an early riser. As the dragon presented itself upon its hind legs, not a single missing scale was there to be exploited. And yet for all its majesty, it was still besmirched by a great blemish.
Those eyes doused in the foreign colour of gold, clashing with the green of its birth.
"GWWAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR."
It roared.
A bellow so visceral, so primal it shook through the arms covering my ears.
The ground itself quaked along with my limbs as the world threatened to end. Dust and bits of stone came falling down. And also Coppelia as she landed beside me, enthusiastic smile at the ready.
"Safe~" She turned to me and nodded. "... Okay! You get to decide! How do you want to be carried?"
I gingerly released my ears, still hearing the bellowing.
"Excuse me?"
"Over my shoulder or under my arm? You get to pick how you want to escape the giant fireball by the big grumpy dragon when he notices us in about five seconds."
My mouth widened.
"C-Coppelia! … There are more appropriate ways to carry me than either as a rug or as a sack!"
"... Like as a fruit slime? Because that's less carrying and more throwing and catching you as I go."
An appalling suggestion … and not because experiencing that at least once sounded the slightest bit intriguing.
"There will be no need to carry me," I declared, turning my frown towards the dragon as its tail scooped up a line of glittering coins. "We are not escaping."
"Now that's just pessimistic. We're really good at escaping explosions."
"Yes … Yes we are. But that's beside the point. I do not mean to escape from this dragon. Not if it means seeing him again along with my mother asking why I seem to know him. I intend to put this entire Ouzelia debacle behind me. Not punt it down the road."
"GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR."
A second bellow filled the cavern.
No … not just a bellow, but a yawn.
Accompanied by a stretching of wings, they swept outwards like a pair of windmills. The shadows were even greater. An endless mural of darkness painted upon the cavern wall behind by the light of two swords.
One of which I was still trying to put out.
For a moment, even my loyal handmaiden could only blink at me.
However, any doubts she harboured were given no leave to fester. Nothing could break the strength of my noble intentions. And even less my wish to avoid association with this land of oddballs at all costs.
Thus, she nodded … then offered all her assistance by sitting atop her fallen colleague.
"Wooooooooooooooo!!" Coppelia raised an arm in cheer. "It's time! The next stage of [Ball Of Doom]!"
"E-Excuse me! Please do not spread that name unnecessarily! It is not [Ball Of Doom]! It is a delicate gardening technique! … Furthermore, I am still in the process of refining the current iterations …"
"No problem! Cheap and underhanded is also good!"
"A slanderous insinuation. I am as fair and honourable as the kingdom I represent. And so long as your apple strudels are funded directly from our personal funds, that is the official line."
"Got it~ how do you plan on fairly beating the really big dragon, then?"
I looked up at the dragon in question.
It didn't take a forum of sages to know that there was only one answer–I didn't.
After all, if a princess could simply defeat a dragon, I wouldn't count them as my natural foes.
However … that didn't mean I had no contingencies in place.
On the contrary, it was precisely because I was a princess that I was uniquely suited to the task ahead.
Knights may have lances and heroes outrageous amounts of luck. But I had a weapon greater than both.
Not for slaying dragons. But for surviving them.
"I've no means of felling this dragon. But I've no need to. It is time to perform Emergency Dragon Protocol #57."
Coppelia nodded with excitement, fists tightly scrunched against her chest.
"Ooooh~ I never knew there were contingencies for facing a dragon which wasn't running away faster than the guy next to you!"
"There isn't. For commoners, at least." I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. "Ohohoho … rejoice, Coppelia. And observe. For you shall now see a sight to burn into your memories brighter than any dragon flame. Note what you shall see, but never speak of it again."
"Okie~"
I nodded … and then took a deep breath.
Yes, it was time at last to display my true qualities as a princess.
Thus, I patted myself down, then left the cheering of my audience behind as I strolled towards the disgruntled behemoth of death.
An action so without precedent that the dragon shook away its waking temper to at last see the fragile maiden in its midst.
Within those maddened eyes, the black slits widened with all the right of one appalled at the impertinence of an open thief.
"GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR."
Except I was no such thing.
I was an honoured guest.
And so I ignored the bellowing, trained as I was by the echoes in the Royal Villa whenever my father stubbed his toe against a door. I ignored the embers dribbling from the jaws, accustomed to the flames regularly seen exiting Clarise's observatory. And I ignored the gaze of unremitting death, seeing only a pale imitation of my etiquette tutor when she found me admiring the vines beneath a window.
The dragon was unimpressed.
A neck stretched out as its entire frame lowered.
The rows of guillotine teeth were revealed, each capable of grinding a chimney until it was indistinguishable from the soot it bore. Within its maw, an endless darkness was punctuated only by the heart of a flame so ancient it could melt the Summer Fae.
And against it all, I lifted Starlight Grace … then idly sheathed it away.
I offered a polite smile instead.
"Salutations," I said with a nod, knees slightly bent, lifting the very hem of my skirt in a perfectly angled curtsy. "I am Princess Juliette Contzen, 5th in line to the Kingdom of Tirea. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
The dragon stilled.
The smoke exiting its orifices didn't lessen. But the shadows behind its wings did.
A moment later … it blinked.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Except this time, it wasn't the allure of gold it saw.
No … it was something far rarer, beyond the worth of any trove or the beauty of any trinket. Something which shone brighter than the lustre of any coin or jewel.
A candle in the darkness, washing away the delirium of greed.
… Me.
Ohhohohohoho!
Here it was! My ultimate ability!
[Princess Presence]!
Indeed … I did not need my healing fingertip for this!
All I required was my own aura … a light so warm and gentle, that a fourth blink later, neither curse nor madness could hold sway!
Like the first breath after a deep plunge, the dragon shuddered, sending not the tremor of a quake, but a song as calming as a summer draft through the air.
The shadows rescinded. The veil of avarice was lifted from its eyes.
And what remained was as smooth as the finest jade.
After all–
Gold spoke to its greed. Yet I spoke to its heart.
A princess without equal, even in the realm of fairy tales.
Thus … the dragon promptly reached out and wrapped a claw around me.
I nodded and smiled.
Yes.
This was indeed better.
Last edited:
- Location
- Argentina
Let me guess, the Dragon doesn't recognise her as a Princess?
The Turing test for dragons!
Chapter 311: Forbidden Texts
New
As a princess, I had little room for regret.
To do so was to betray the expectations of all around me.
My conviction needed to be as unyielding as the way I slept, able only to be broken by a tug of my duvet, a swishing of the curtains and a blast of sunlight melting my face.
Indeed, if the maids who delivered me tea and snacks in the middle of the afternoon saw I was flopping around with indecision, that would just look sloppy.
However, that hardly meant I made no mistakes.
The time I secretly consumed several punnets of strawberries freshly imported from the Summer Kingdoms? … That wasn't one of them. But my time spent doubled over during the mandatory tea party which followed was.
The tummy ache was so debilitating I was unable to fall asleep. There have been many trials I've experienced. Remaining conscious while the daughters of mere barons poorly lied to one another was amongst the worst of them.
Up until now, this was my most recent cause for introspection. Eating enough strawberries to result in an upset stomach. A lapse of judgement so unforeseeable that I couldn't bear the sight of them until dessert later that day.
That memory had now been replaced.
"–Hieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"
Yes.
I'd made another blameless mistake.
… Forgetting to prepare a wardrobe.
I couldn't hear whatever delicate groans I was making. And neither could the very large dragon beating its wings. If it could, it'd cease propelling itself and my innocent figure wrapped in its claws to instead offer a chance to make amends.
Instead, off it went.
A colossal figure which flew with elegance and grace as it navigated the slim fissure overhead. Yet as the wind swept past my ears and all the world blurred into a passing sludge, all I could think of was the tragedy ahead.
I'd need to accept whatever amenities had been prepared by a dragon.
A troubling thought. As proficient as they were with stealing away princesses, the accommodation process afterwards was rarely up to standards.
Indeed, as the dragon broke free from the confines of its brief captivity, it was more than the moon shining closer than I'd ever seen that earned my attention.
It was the ruins hiding away the fissure beneath.
Perhaps it was once a castle. Now it was little more than vines and regret clinging to the side of a mountain like cobwebs in a forgotten corner. Shorn of both a rooftop and any sense of privacy, the dragon offered a view of the only thing worse than an inn before the beating of its wings slowed.
Then, I was given a glimpse of the service I could expect ahead.
Pwoooomph!
What remained of a floor was sent in every direction as the dragon landed.
Tiles overrun with nature cracked to reveal the roots underneath. A brave sapling which had hoped to become a tree was felled as the remains of a wall came crumbling down, wooden beams snapping in two and stone blocks practically rolling like a mound of snowballs.
It almost went unseen as the dragon's shadow encompassed it all–myself included.
With less fanfare than when I exited my bathtub, the dragon released its hold.
I dropped enough to stumble as I fell, arms raised outwards as I skipped over a gnarled root which sought to claim my ankle where all its forest brethren had failed.
Then, I sucked in a deep breath.
A fix of my hair and a tug of my cheeks later, I turned my appalled expression towards the dragon, ready to unleash a torrent of flames it could never hope to match.
Clink.
Instead … my knee struck against a small circular table adorned with a red and white checkered tablecloth. One I was reasonably certain could not have survived a dragon landing given the tea set it bore. White porcelain, bisque with a matte finish, inoffensive enough to earn only a wrinkling of my nose. Usually.
Instead, mine was drawn to the steam rising from a pair of tea cups. An exotic aroma boasting of a faraway land, bold and without apology.
Just like the dragon which sat behind it.
"... Tea?"
With a regal voice which shook everything other than the surface of the liquid, the dragon loomed high overhead. Eyes as deep and ancient as the Emerald Sea peered down at me. And then the tea cup sat on my side of the table.
I offered no response other than a frown.
Then, just before the coughing could begin filling the silence, I idly lifted the offered tea cup, examining the scent before taking a sip.
"Hmm."
"What do you think?"
I took in the aroma once more, then gave it a moment's thought.
"The leaves are exceptionally high quality. There is a sweetness which follows the astringency of the first notes, like spring after winter. It is rich, yet unobtrusive. A flavour which yearns to be brash, yet has been tempered and made mellow. There are other ingredients here, small in quantity and finely ground. Flowering buds and hulled seeds. Some I recognise. A few I do not."
I eyed the contents of the liquid.
"... Am I correct in thinking they are not from this continent?"
"You would. This is a blend consisting of 47 varieties of rare flora, some of which began only to mature when I was still an egg. Many of the ingredients can only be sourced from the Fae Realm. You may recognise the touch of who made it."
"Oh? And who would that be?"
"The Spring Queen. This is her favoured tea."
"I see." I took another sip, nodded, then tossed the rest behind my shoulder. "1.5/10."
The dragon watched the flying trail of liquid.
After a moment, a claw was raised. And a tea pot filled with a brew hundreds of years in the making shifted slightly away from me.
"How curious. I would have thought one who bore the boon of the maiden of leaves would be more receptive to her memory. You've a tale woven upon that ring. One I would like to hear."
"I'm certain you do. It is a tale of my patience in the face of overwhelming shamelessness. Far from any gifts of tea, the fae have offered nothing but bricks and audacity so far."
"A high honour. Bricks are far rarer than their tea. Did you try it?"
"No."
"A shame. It's considered quite the delicacy. You should consider partaking the next time you visit the Fae Realm."
"Nothing fills me with more horror. There is no next. I am loath to be kidnapped by the fae. Just as I am by dragons."
A single note of amusement filled the air.
The shortest chuckle. Yet one which could lift wilted flowers from the dirt.
"You are right to be. I have read the tales of dragons. I have even written some myself, albeit under alias. We make for fine villains. Doubly so as far as princesses are concerned. A fortunate thing that I prefer books to princesses, if still princesses to gold."
The dragon offered a dip of its head. A note of gratitude which would be better received had the liquid in the opposing tea cup not vanish as though sipped.
"I noted your presence through the mire, Princess Juliette Contzen. And for your assistance, I offer my appreciation."
"Your appreciation is accepted. So long as it takes a form other than words. As far as I'm aware, I have prevented a future where Ouzelia is now deeply unpopular."
"So it might be. But there are many futures, and Virudaax the Venomous is a title which poorly holds to my scales. One should not allow peer pressure to denote one's path in life. A thought I see you abide by."
"I am a Contzen. And the only path I walk is the one which best suits my kingdom."
The dragon paused, thoughts visibly swirling behind those eyes of jade.
"... Contzen, yes. I have heard much of your family. Many dynasties and kingdoms have risen and fallen, yet yours has remained despite its small–"
"Ahem."
"–despite the many challenges which surround it."
I placed a hand to my chest and proudly nodded.
"Indeed, we are known for our perseverance–just as much as our virtue. Hence why a dragon may be rescued from the throes of an overly proactive subject by my hand."
"Yet in my dreams, I also heard a distant voice. I believe the word … 'extortion' was repeated."
"A side effect of the terrible ordeal you have endured. One you can be rid of by providing an appropriate reward so that I can return to my kingdom. You'll understand, I hope, that there is a difference between virtue and charity?"
The dragon prevented a snort from appearing.
Almost.
The smoke which came out was somehow flung back into its own eyes.
I found it quite amusing.
"I do. More than you would know. Yet I'm afraid I cannot reward charity with fire. Though Fleur did not care for the Queensholme Accords, I do. And I risk a wrath greater than dragons should I burn the towers which look upon your kingdom."
"Good. Because I do not need fire for that. Only time. It's as you say, my family perseveres above all. Fortunately, I'm nothing if not reasonable. And so for my aid as well as time currently accruing, I have a simple request."
I brought my hands together and offered a smile. Something worth more than all the rescuing I could perform. But in this matter, I would allow it as a bonus service.
"I'd like to borrow Coppelia."
The dragon stilled.
It didn't prevent the tea cup from magically draining or refilling again.
"... Is that so? How long for?"
"Not long. Only permanently."
I waited for the immediate agreement.
Oddly, it came in the form of silence.
"I see my librarian has made a reasonable impression on you. I find this curious, considering her job does not require endearing herself to those residing where she goes. Yet while there is much I can offer for politeness, if not obligation's sake, I'm afraid this does not include loaning out my staff."
"Then rejoice, for the task I have in mind is little different to the one she has now."
"Her task involves the procurement of overdue books."
"Overdue forbidden books," I corrected the dragon, while possibly pointing towards my kingdom. "And by wasting her talents elsewhere, you'd be actively depriving yourself of all the darkest texts which remain in my realm. Ones so foul you would never leave the sanctuary of slumber again. And I would be willing to discuss a loan agreement for them all … providing my fair and reasonable stipulations are met."
A moment of silence passed.
And then–any tiles yet to be broken finally cracked.
The dragon rose.
Like a receptionist snapping to attention, it lifted itself upon its hind legs, pouring its shadow over all the ruins. Moonlight bathed its emerald scales. Yet nothing gleamed more than the curiosity a dragon could neither pretend to not possess, nor adhere to.
"I am aware of every book held in your castles, your dungeons, your cathedral and your house of mages. I know of those written and those half-written. Those lost and those which should be lost. All I desire, I have long since come to possess or destroy."
I strained my neck as I looked up.
Then, ignoring the discomfort and the mildly concerning creak … I raised a hand to my lips and smiled.
"Ohohoho … is that what you believe?"
A pair of jade eyes blinked at me. No answer came.
I decided to offer one instead.
"That is a very poor showing," I said simply. "To think you would name my castles and my dungeons, yet you fail to name my libraries."
"Your libraries are unimpressive," came the immediate reply. "I do not mean this as an insult. Most public libraries do not concern themselves with dangerous texts. And those of any worth have long been claimed."
"Then you've no knowledge of the greatest library which exists in my kingdom."
"I know of that in Reitzlake and Aquina."
"Meaning you've no knowledge of that which is found in the Royal Villa. A library which holds the private collection of my family … including forbidden texts so beyond equal, that neither swords nor flames can avail them."
The dragon leaned down slightly.
All of a sudden, its eyes shone with a light more dazzling than any of the stars overhead. A gaze which pierced both darkness and deceit.
And then–
I was met with a blink of disbelief.
"You do not lie."
"Ohohohoo … indeed, I do not. For in the library of the Royal Villa is held the darkest collection of books the world had ever known. And not just a handful. But hundreds."
"... Hundreds? What are they? What is this collection?"
A dragon opened its maws before me. And yet no hint of a flame could be seen.
Only incredulity at the revelation that in my kingdom, forbidden texts which had never known the joy of being read in daylight spanned one bookshelf to the next.
Those which had been written under a veil of darkness, so foul that no matter if I tossed them in a hearth, through a window or down a trapped door, they would always find themselves back upon our shelves.
Yes … they were the root of all evil.
My poetry anthologies!
Everything I'd written before the age of 7 … no, 8 … they were a blot! A stain on my history! … Literally! I had no idea what I wrote!
Naturally, things were different now. My poetry was like the dancing of a swan. But before I'd learned to be graceful, I could only stumble.
If I could off-load them to a dragon … at worst, he'll be so annoyed that he'll set them all aflame, and at best, they'll be locked away in Ouzelia, somewhere so far away even my father could not salvage them!
Oho … ohohooho!
It … It was a perfect plan!
"I have offered enough tidbits," I said, idly brushing nothing from my sleeves. "Know only that the works held in the Royal Villa are those I have privileged access to–as well as any handmaiden in my employ. Should you be interested, I can arrange for Coppelia to send the worst for your consideration. Permanently. In fact, I would refuse to take them back."
The dragon appeared stunned.
Even so, the answer to my generosity was clear.
For a self-professed collector of forbidden works to spurn a private collection accessible only to royalty was unfathomable. And so I presented an amicable smile as the dragon slowly lowered itself.
"You are most curious. Even amongst those of your family."
A pause.
"Was that a–"
"It was a compliment, yes."
The dragon offered a nod, pretending at hesitancy.
"It is a very rare thing for a dragon to part with anything theirs, even in gratitude. Yet in recognition of your aid, I would be willing to allow Coppelia to see to the Hidden Library's interests in your kingdom, providing that is her wish. Despite her assertions, I am not wholly unreasonable … or grumpy."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"Excellent! That is half the payment."
The dragon blinked.
"Half? What do you mean half?"
I pointed to the side with one hand and downwards with the other.
There, a great fissure lay in the centre of the ruins. And leading down from it, a significant pile of gold serving as a dragon's hoard now waiting to be claimed.
Hmm. How curious.
Dragons could do expressions, after all.
Why, their galled face looked remarkably similar to everyone else's.
To do so was to betray the expectations of all around me.
My conviction needed to be as unyielding as the way I slept, able only to be broken by a tug of my duvet, a swishing of the curtains and a blast of sunlight melting my face.
Indeed, if the maids who delivered me tea and snacks in the middle of the afternoon saw I was flopping around with indecision, that would just look sloppy.
However, that hardly meant I made no mistakes.
The time I secretly consumed several punnets of strawberries freshly imported from the Summer Kingdoms? … That wasn't one of them. But my time spent doubled over during the mandatory tea party which followed was.
The tummy ache was so debilitating I was unable to fall asleep. There have been many trials I've experienced. Remaining conscious while the daughters of mere barons poorly lied to one another was amongst the worst of them.
Up until now, this was my most recent cause for introspection. Eating enough strawberries to result in an upset stomach. A lapse of judgement so unforeseeable that I couldn't bear the sight of them until dessert later that day.
That memory had now been replaced.
"–Hieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"
Yes.
I'd made another blameless mistake.
… Forgetting to prepare a wardrobe.
I couldn't hear whatever delicate groans I was making. And neither could the very large dragon beating its wings. If it could, it'd cease propelling itself and my innocent figure wrapped in its claws to instead offer a chance to make amends.
Instead, off it went.
A colossal figure which flew with elegance and grace as it navigated the slim fissure overhead. Yet as the wind swept past my ears and all the world blurred into a passing sludge, all I could think of was the tragedy ahead.
I'd need to accept whatever amenities had been prepared by a dragon.
A troubling thought. As proficient as they were with stealing away princesses, the accommodation process afterwards was rarely up to standards.
Indeed, as the dragon broke free from the confines of its brief captivity, it was more than the moon shining closer than I'd ever seen that earned my attention.
It was the ruins hiding away the fissure beneath.
Perhaps it was once a castle. Now it was little more than vines and regret clinging to the side of a mountain like cobwebs in a forgotten corner. Shorn of both a rooftop and any sense of privacy, the dragon offered a view of the only thing worse than an inn before the beating of its wings slowed.
Then, I was given a glimpse of the service I could expect ahead.
Pwoooomph!
What remained of a floor was sent in every direction as the dragon landed.
Tiles overrun with nature cracked to reveal the roots underneath. A brave sapling which had hoped to become a tree was felled as the remains of a wall came crumbling down, wooden beams snapping in two and stone blocks practically rolling like a mound of snowballs.
It almost went unseen as the dragon's shadow encompassed it all–myself included.
With less fanfare than when I exited my bathtub, the dragon released its hold.
I dropped enough to stumble as I fell, arms raised outwards as I skipped over a gnarled root which sought to claim my ankle where all its forest brethren had failed.
Then, I sucked in a deep breath.
A fix of my hair and a tug of my cheeks later, I turned my appalled expression towards the dragon, ready to unleash a torrent of flames it could never hope to match.
Clink.
Instead … my knee struck against a small circular table adorned with a red and white checkered tablecloth. One I was reasonably certain could not have survived a dragon landing given the tea set it bore. White porcelain, bisque with a matte finish, inoffensive enough to earn only a wrinkling of my nose. Usually.
Instead, mine was drawn to the steam rising from a pair of tea cups. An exotic aroma boasting of a faraway land, bold and without apology.
Just like the dragon which sat behind it.
"... Tea?"
With a regal voice which shook everything other than the surface of the liquid, the dragon loomed high overhead. Eyes as deep and ancient as the Emerald Sea peered down at me. And then the tea cup sat on my side of the table.
I offered no response other than a frown.
Then, just before the coughing could begin filling the silence, I idly lifted the offered tea cup, examining the scent before taking a sip.
"Hmm."
"What do you think?"
I took in the aroma once more, then gave it a moment's thought.
"The leaves are exceptionally high quality. There is a sweetness which follows the astringency of the first notes, like spring after winter. It is rich, yet unobtrusive. A flavour which yearns to be brash, yet has been tempered and made mellow. There are other ingredients here, small in quantity and finely ground. Flowering buds and hulled seeds. Some I recognise. A few I do not."
I eyed the contents of the liquid.
"... Am I correct in thinking they are not from this continent?"
"You would. This is a blend consisting of 47 varieties of rare flora, some of which began only to mature when I was still an egg. Many of the ingredients can only be sourced from the Fae Realm. You may recognise the touch of who made it."
"Oh? And who would that be?"
"The Spring Queen. This is her favoured tea."
"I see." I took another sip, nodded, then tossed the rest behind my shoulder. "1.5/10."
The dragon watched the flying trail of liquid.
After a moment, a claw was raised. And a tea pot filled with a brew hundreds of years in the making shifted slightly away from me.
"How curious. I would have thought one who bore the boon of the maiden of leaves would be more receptive to her memory. You've a tale woven upon that ring. One I would like to hear."
"I'm certain you do. It is a tale of my patience in the face of overwhelming shamelessness. Far from any gifts of tea, the fae have offered nothing but bricks and audacity so far."
"A high honour. Bricks are far rarer than their tea. Did you try it?"
"No."
"A shame. It's considered quite the delicacy. You should consider partaking the next time you visit the Fae Realm."
"Nothing fills me with more horror. There is no next. I am loath to be kidnapped by the fae. Just as I am by dragons."
A single note of amusement filled the air.
The shortest chuckle. Yet one which could lift wilted flowers from the dirt.
"You are right to be. I have read the tales of dragons. I have even written some myself, albeit under alias. We make for fine villains. Doubly so as far as princesses are concerned. A fortunate thing that I prefer books to princesses, if still princesses to gold."
The dragon offered a dip of its head. A note of gratitude which would be better received had the liquid in the opposing tea cup not vanish as though sipped.
"I noted your presence through the mire, Princess Juliette Contzen. And for your assistance, I offer my appreciation."
"Your appreciation is accepted. So long as it takes a form other than words. As far as I'm aware, I have prevented a future where Ouzelia is now deeply unpopular."
"So it might be. But there are many futures, and Virudaax the Venomous is a title which poorly holds to my scales. One should not allow peer pressure to denote one's path in life. A thought I see you abide by."
"I am a Contzen. And the only path I walk is the one which best suits my kingdom."
The dragon paused, thoughts visibly swirling behind those eyes of jade.
"... Contzen, yes. I have heard much of your family. Many dynasties and kingdoms have risen and fallen, yet yours has remained despite its small–"
"Ahem."
"–despite the many challenges which surround it."
I placed a hand to my chest and proudly nodded.
"Indeed, we are known for our perseverance–just as much as our virtue. Hence why a dragon may be rescued from the throes of an overly proactive subject by my hand."
"Yet in my dreams, I also heard a distant voice. I believe the word … 'extortion' was repeated."
"A side effect of the terrible ordeal you have endured. One you can be rid of by providing an appropriate reward so that I can return to my kingdom. You'll understand, I hope, that there is a difference between virtue and charity?"
The dragon prevented a snort from appearing.
Almost.
The smoke which came out was somehow flung back into its own eyes.
I found it quite amusing.
"I do. More than you would know. Yet I'm afraid I cannot reward charity with fire. Though Fleur did not care for the Queensholme Accords, I do. And I risk a wrath greater than dragons should I burn the towers which look upon your kingdom."
"Good. Because I do not need fire for that. Only time. It's as you say, my family perseveres above all. Fortunately, I'm nothing if not reasonable. And so for my aid as well as time currently accruing, I have a simple request."
I brought my hands together and offered a smile. Something worth more than all the rescuing I could perform. But in this matter, I would allow it as a bonus service.
"I'd like to borrow Coppelia."
The dragon stilled.
It didn't prevent the tea cup from magically draining or refilling again.
"... Is that so? How long for?"
"Not long. Only permanently."
I waited for the immediate agreement.
Oddly, it came in the form of silence.
"I see my librarian has made a reasonable impression on you. I find this curious, considering her job does not require endearing herself to those residing where she goes. Yet while there is much I can offer for politeness, if not obligation's sake, I'm afraid this does not include loaning out my staff."
"Then rejoice, for the task I have in mind is little different to the one she has now."
"Her task involves the procurement of overdue books."
"Overdue forbidden books," I corrected the dragon, while possibly pointing towards my kingdom. "And by wasting her talents elsewhere, you'd be actively depriving yourself of all the darkest texts which remain in my realm. Ones so foul you would never leave the sanctuary of slumber again. And I would be willing to discuss a loan agreement for them all … providing my fair and reasonable stipulations are met."
A moment of silence passed.
And then–any tiles yet to be broken finally cracked.
The dragon rose.
Like a receptionist snapping to attention, it lifted itself upon its hind legs, pouring its shadow over all the ruins. Moonlight bathed its emerald scales. Yet nothing gleamed more than the curiosity a dragon could neither pretend to not possess, nor adhere to.
"I am aware of every book held in your castles, your dungeons, your cathedral and your house of mages. I know of those written and those half-written. Those lost and those which should be lost. All I desire, I have long since come to possess or destroy."
I strained my neck as I looked up.
Then, ignoring the discomfort and the mildly concerning creak … I raised a hand to my lips and smiled.
"Ohohoho … is that what you believe?"
A pair of jade eyes blinked at me. No answer came.
I decided to offer one instead.
"That is a very poor showing," I said simply. "To think you would name my castles and my dungeons, yet you fail to name my libraries."
"Your libraries are unimpressive," came the immediate reply. "I do not mean this as an insult. Most public libraries do not concern themselves with dangerous texts. And those of any worth have long been claimed."
"Then you've no knowledge of the greatest library which exists in my kingdom."
"I know of that in Reitzlake and Aquina."
"Meaning you've no knowledge of that which is found in the Royal Villa. A library which holds the private collection of my family … including forbidden texts so beyond equal, that neither swords nor flames can avail them."
The dragon leaned down slightly.
All of a sudden, its eyes shone with a light more dazzling than any of the stars overhead. A gaze which pierced both darkness and deceit.
And then–
I was met with a blink of disbelief.
"You do not lie."
"Ohohohoo … indeed, I do not. For in the library of the Royal Villa is held the darkest collection of books the world had ever known. And not just a handful. But hundreds."
"... Hundreds? What are they? What is this collection?"
A dragon opened its maws before me. And yet no hint of a flame could be seen.
Only incredulity at the revelation that in my kingdom, forbidden texts which had never known the joy of being read in daylight spanned one bookshelf to the next.
Those which had been written under a veil of darkness, so foul that no matter if I tossed them in a hearth, through a window or down a trapped door, they would always find themselves back upon our shelves.
Yes … they were the root of all evil.
My poetry anthologies!
Everything I'd written before the age of 7 … no, 8 … they were a blot! A stain on my history! … Literally! I had no idea what I wrote!
Naturally, things were different now. My poetry was like the dancing of a swan. But before I'd learned to be graceful, I could only stumble.
If I could off-load them to a dragon … at worst, he'll be so annoyed that he'll set them all aflame, and at best, they'll be locked away in Ouzelia, somewhere so far away even my father could not salvage them!
Oho … ohohooho!
It … It was a perfect plan!
"I have offered enough tidbits," I said, idly brushing nothing from my sleeves. "Know only that the works held in the Royal Villa are those I have privileged access to–as well as any handmaiden in my employ. Should you be interested, I can arrange for Coppelia to send the worst for your consideration. Permanently. In fact, I would refuse to take them back."
The dragon appeared stunned.
Even so, the answer to my generosity was clear.
For a self-professed collector of forbidden works to spurn a private collection accessible only to royalty was unfathomable. And so I presented an amicable smile as the dragon slowly lowered itself.
"You are most curious. Even amongst those of your family."
A pause.
"Was that a–"
"It was a compliment, yes."
The dragon offered a nod, pretending at hesitancy.
"It is a very rare thing for a dragon to part with anything theirs, even in gratitude. Yet in recognition of your aid, I would be willing to allow Coppelia to see to the Hidden Library's interests in your kingdom, providing that is her wish. Despite her assertions, I am not wholly unreasonable … or grumpy."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"Excellent! That is half the payment."
The dragon blinked.
"Half? What do you mean half?"
I pointed to the side with one hand and downwards with the other.
There, a great fissure lay in the centre of the ruins. And leading down from it, a significant pile of gold serving as a dragon's hoard now waiting to be claimed.
Hmm. How curious.
Dragons could do expressions, after all.
Why, their galled face looked remarkably similar to everyone else's.
- Location
- Argentina
Of course there is going to be a fight against a dragon, right? How else will our protagonist keep rising in ranks otherwise?
To bad for him, dragon's much prefer physical confrontation. It is where they excel, due to being dragons.
But a dragon's greatest weakness is their desperation to prove they are more than brutes. For all their wisdom, age, experience they get tricked pretty often.
This is why all of the great dragons of legends were destroyers. Kind of hard to trick a dragon whose response to everyone is "Burn, Crush, Smash, Bite, in any order!"
But a dragon's greatest weakness is their desperation to prove they are more than brutes. For all their wisdom, age, experience they get tricked pretty often.
This is why all of the great dragons of legends were destroyers. Kind of hard to trick a dragon whose response to everyone is "Burn, Crush, Smash, Bite, in any order!"
Chapter 312: The Cost Of Reward
New
Coppelia wore a fixed smile.
Holding her colleague in one hand and her scythe in the other, she blinked at the sight of me idly sipping a tea which had now risen from its previous rating to a balmy 3.5/10 due only to the warmth of my smile.
She then looked at the dragon.
Despite the rather large nature of the spiky, fire breathing behemoth in our midst, his figure could scarcely be seen. Sat in a corner overtaken by shadows, he plucked at a vine on the wall.
A sight as pitiful as it was appropriate.
Tail curled around himself, he huddled in much the same manner as a child seeking to escape the realities of the world.
One where dragon rescue services were at a premium. And the cost of poetry could only be measured in tantrums.
Yes.
The dragon … was sulking.
Ohohohohohohohoho!
"Welcome, Coppelia," I said, gesturing towards the vacant half of the picnic table. "Come join me for subpar tea. I have just concluded negotiations."
My loyal handmaiden looked between me and the dragon.
She blew away a single dishevelled strand of hair from her forehead. Proof of her trials at having climbed or hopped her way up the length of a mountain, luggage in tow as she rushed to my aid.
The gold spilling from her pouch?
Why, it was always there. And so long as she used it to pay for all our next bakery-related expenses, that would always remain the case.
"Huh." Coppelia tilted her head and blinked. "I thought I'd need to whack something. But I guess that's for tomorrow."
A pink-haired librarian in a ruffled pinafore dress promptly flopped down, silent other than for a muffled huff escaping into the ground.
Then, a black scythe twirled in the air before neatly folding between a set of palms, squished together and vanishing in a way a dragon could only wish.
"Tomorrow will be a day of calm," I assured her. "Why, I intend for us to do nothing more than admire the swaying fields of my kingdom."
"Oh, okay. Will they be on fire?"
"There will be no fire." I paused to sip at my tea, emphasising the point. "And if there is, you must seek out and remove all evidence of any flaming tea pots at the scene."
"Got it! Keep everything dangerous for our own uses!"
I smiled, glad that such a diligent handmaiden could be relied upon in times to come.
"Exactly. But until then, the fair fields will be yours to admire. I'm delighted to say that after painstaking negotiations felt entirely by the moping dragon in the corner, I've secured an amendment to your contract regarding your right to undertake work in my kingdom–that is to say, on a long term basis."
"Really?" Coppelia looked towards the dragon, of whom only his back could be seen. "... Wow, I wasn't expecting that. What kind of work?"
"The most difficult."
"Eh?"
I nodded seriously.
Throwing the excess tea behind my shoulder, I gently lowered the cup. It was already filled by the time it was set down.
"It will be the same work as you have conducted thus far. Except far more terrible. You shall soon be faced with the worst my father's court has to offer. Treachery, deception, and the gall of those who sneeze directly into their hands as though that was better than literally anywhere else. Indeed, I shall not deceive you in regards to the scale of the horrors ahead. There is more than an endless mountain of free macarons which await in the Royal Villa. There is also snivelling, poverty and waxed moustaches. Only if you desire to brave the foul stench of those who infest the heart of my realm should you–"
"Woooooooooooo!!" Coppelia raised both arms in the air. "I officially get a holiday!"
"C-Coppelia! This … This is not a holiday!"
"This is amazing! I thought I'd need to stall for so long that the big guy eventually forgot what I was doing! Getting a holiday means I don't need to keep checking for random bonks coming out of nowhere!"
A large, spiky tail which had just been curled around a dragon slowly rose. I shooed it away with a cough.
"This is not a holiday," I repeated. "Merely a formalised arrangement of your time. You shall therefore be allowed to maintain both the title of a librarian–"
"Assistant librarian."
"–and a handmaiden. Know, however, that this means a significant workload. You'll have to assist me while pretending it has anything to do with aiding the library."
Coppelia nodded … all the while spinning on the spot, a leg raised in much the same manner as a clockwork ballerina atop a music box.
"Woooooooooo! I'll get to finish the Coppelia Guidebook!"
I let out a small groan … all the while lifting a tea cup in Coppelia's path. It was promptly slapped into the nether, before reappearing whole upon the picnic table.
Fireballs, explosions and meteors. Yet somehow, the stubbornness of a single tea cup was the most impressive magic I'd seen.
After a few moments, Coppelia decided to come to a stop.
"Okay! I'm done~"
"Excellent. Because so am I. A dragon has been rescued. And so too shall a princess. It's time we return. Now, please tell me you've a way to utilise that unspeakable black window of yours in a way which doesn't induce horror in its passengers."
"Nope~ but I've got good news! I'm pretty sure that thing's one-way only."
Whether I made a groan or sigh of relief, I'd never know.
It was drowned out by the sound of a dragon shifting from its corner of shame.
The wall he'd faced partially crumbled as a neck turned around, until a pair of narrowed green eyes was peering down at an innocently whistling clockwork doll.
"What unspeakable black window?"
"Hm? A black window? Why would I have a black window? Is it for food?"
"Coppelia."
My loyal handmaiden clapped her hands together and beamed.
"Ohhh, that thing! Well, we were sort of in a rush, you know, since you were kidnapped and needed rescuing. That's why I used the Clockwork Repository to–owie."
With a mastery of grace which should be well beyond anything this large, the very tip of a tail poked Coppelia's cheek.
She puffed it back out. Somehow.
"The Clockwork Repository is not for personal transportation. Never do that again."
Coppelia duly nodded, her smile in lieu of any explanation.
One I absolutely did not seek. Especially given the number of years I could count in the dragon's ensuing sigh. I blew away the wisps of smoke as his attention returned to me.
"... Princess. You may rob me of my library staff, but not my pride. As you have arrived for my sake, I shall take it upon myself to ensure your timely … and also safe departure. I have no lack of skilled mages, nor magic myself if need be."
"Oh? How excellent. I'd be all too delighted to accept."
"Very well. Then I suggest–"
"Because I do hope you know a spell for conjuring water."
The dragon blinked.
"Excuse me?"
I turned to Coppelia, trusting in her ability to leave no valuables behind.
"Coppelia? Did you bring Exhibit B?"
"I sure did!"
Clap.
An all too familiar window into the abyss appeared between her palm. And somehow, it was now even more ominous. The darkness came with its own smoke effect, billowing out as though fanned from a forge.
It came from something hotter still.
The undying flames of a dragon, wreathing Dawning Grace as the precious sword was unceremoniously flung to the ground. Coppelia shook and blew at her fingers as she sought to close her Clockwork Repository.
"Look at this," I said, gesturing pointedly at the weapon as it began melting the tile it was on. "This is supposed to be my grandmother's sword. It is now literally on fire."
The dragon leaned towards the result of his doing. Jade eyes narrowed at the molten flames entirely covering the sword from blade to hilt.
Then … the dragon nodded.
"Hmm. Impressive."
"Excuse me?!" I was aghast. "What is impressive about this?! How little I can use it? What am I going to do with a sword I cannot wield to frighten caterpillars without also burning down the leaves they're nibbling on as well?!"
"That is for you to decide," said the dragon, whose tone was filled only with a craftsman's pride. "Though I would usually claim a weapon engulfed by my flames for myself, I offer it as a keepsake. A reminder of my generosity, lasting longer than any gold. Let it not be said that dragons know only greed."
I raised my arms in outrage.
"You sneezed on it!"
"I did not sneeze on it," came the indignant response. "Fate decreed that it should lie in the path of my flames, to be imbued as a weapon able to shape the world and engrave the pages of history. A gift with little equal."
"Gift? What is the gift exactly? The handkerchief which comes with it?"
"It is a priceless heirloom set to burn away the darkness for a thousand years."
"It is already a priceless heirloom set to light the darkness for a thousand years! Except the burning was manageable! This is not! … I demand you fix this at once!"
The dragon's nose wrinkled.
"There is nothing to fix. It is functionally different, yes. But also improved."
"I do not want functionally different! I want exactly the same as before! A sword I can return to a treasury without melting all that is inside it. Why, I can't even pick this up! You may as well have set a barn on fire and given me that instead!"
The dragon paused.
"... Do you want a barn set on fire?"
"No!"
"Well, I cannot help, then. Aside from the fact it is galling to suggest I put out what I bequeathed with my own flames, I lack any spell to do so."
"Very well. Then throw it in a lake so it can be doused."
"No lake can douse this. For dragonfire burns hotter than any water."
I jabbed my finger towards the dragon.
It leaned away slightly.
"In that case, you are now officially in arrears. I am down one enchanted heirloom sword. Unless you can make amends, I am now owed another hoard."
A huff of disgruntlement came from the dragon. All the more so as Coppelia was joyfully waving her arm in front while hopping on the spot.
"Ooh, ooh! Actually, I know somewhere which can douse it!"
"You do not. There is no water which can calm the gift of dragonfire."
"There is! And if you'd taken up the offer to soak your claws the last time you were there, you'd remember about it."
A series of blinks met her statement. And then the sight of a dragon leaning away in sudden doubt, the uncertainty as clear as the moonlight reflecting off each scale.
"That is … unlikely."
"Coppelia?" I sent her a querying look. "To what are you referring to?"
She brought her hands together like a sister in prayer, her bright smile ushering away the night.
"Water drawn from untouched peaks," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "So pure that even water nymphs don't frolic in it. And they frolic in everything–all except this. Water so magical in property, it can calm everything from aching knees to enchanted flames. These are the hot springs surrounding a famous bathhouse, so soothing that the attached gift shop sells samples as reasonably priced healing potions."
My mouth widened.
"A bathhouse … are you referring to the one hiding your workshop?"
"Yup!" Coppelia nodded as memories of a past conversation regarding her workshop's unique public identity resurfaced. "I mentioned before how popular the bathhouse is, right? … Well, that's because of the enchanted hot springs!"
"Coppelia, no matter the efficacy of spring water, it surely cannot quell dragonfire … right?"
"You'd think so. But a full reservation list year round says otherwise. I'm pretty sure there's nothing the hot springs can't fix."
She clicked her fingers, then leaned slightly towards me.
"Plus, you know, I've been meaning to visit. Now's a great chance. You'll love it. I can arrange for you to have a private bath all to yourself. It'll be the best you'll ever experience. An uninterrupted dip in a 3 x 6 metre tub made from naturally fragrant cypresswood followed by dessert, then dinner, then more dessert. Just soaking in the hot spring for 15 minutes will smooth over any imperfections in your skin, opening up your pores and delaying the onset of wrinkles for another decade."
I was rendered speechless. Not least due to the idea that my skin could have imperfections.
Why … the dubiousness of the claims spoke for themselves!
After all, if this spring water was enough to soothe even dragonfire, then that would make it one of the most potent natural things to ever exist. It would be fought over by alchemists the world over. Such a thing was not only highly improbable, but very likely a rumour disseminated by the bathhouse itself.
"Let's go."
Thus, I nodded at once.
If Coppelia had business she wished to see to, then who was I to deny her? As her princess, it would be remiss of me not to maintain her loyalty.
Besides, I was certain there would be other practical benefits to her return.
The fact I was suddenly gulping like a goldfish, lips dry and body trembling?
That was normal.
I always did that.
"We're already in Ouzelia," I said, ignoring the random bouts of giggling Coppelia unfortunately suffered from. "If there's anything still to be done, then we may as well see to it now. The damage is already done. What is another day?"
"Well, it's more than another day. The workshop is pretty far."
"... How far?"
"That far." Coppelia pointed into the distance, where only invisible silhouettes existed beneath the curtain of night. "It's way in the mountains. The proper mountains and not this one. I think it'll take us about three weeks to get there. Longer with the horse."
I was horrified.
"Coppelia! This is the end of our journey in Ouzelia, not the start of another! … As much as I desire for you to visit your workshop for entirely unselfish purposes, there's simply no scenario we won't be stopped by a thousand calamities between here and there."
Indeed, even thinking about it was enough to make me faint!
Nothing good would happen from travelling the length and breadth of Ouzelia. Goodness knows what colour Apple would be if he ate too much of the things here.
And then–
A great shadow loomed overhead.
All of a sudden, I found a pair of immense jade eyes peering down at me. All hint of the brooding malaise was gone, replaced by a curious sense of … enthusiasm.
"Excuse me?" I looked up in suspicion. "What are you doing?"
The dragon chuckled in response … as once again, a claw reached out towards me.
"Making amends."
Holding her colleague in one hand and her scythe in the other, she blinked at the sight of me idly sipping a tea which had now risen from its previous rating to a balmy 3.5/10 due only to the warmth of my smile.
She then looked at the dragon.
Despite the rather large nature of the spiky, fire breathing behemoth in our midst, his figure could scarcely be seen. Sat in a corner overtaken by shadows, he plucked at a vine on the wall.
A sight as pitiful as it was appropriate.
Tail curled around himself, he huddled in much the same manner as a child seeking to escape the realities of the world.
One where dragon rescue services were at a premium. And the cost of poetry could only be measured in tantrums.
Yes.
The dragon … was sulking.
Ohohohohohohohoho!
"Welcome, Coppelia," I said, gesturing towards the vacant half of the picnic table. "Come join me for subpar tea. I have just concluded negotiations."
My loyal handmaiden looked between me and the dragon.
She blew away a single dishevelled strand of hair from her forehead. Proof of her trials at having climbed or hopped her way up the length of a mountain, luggage in tow as she rushed to my aid.
The gold spilling from her pouch?
Why, it was always there. And so long as she used it to pay for all our next bakery-related expenses, that would always remain the case.
"Huh." Coppelia tilted her head and blinked. "I thought I'd need to whack something. But I guess that's for tomorrow."
A pink-haired librarian in a ruffled pinafore dress promptly flopped down, silent other than for a muffled huff escaping into the ground.
Then, a black scythe twirled in the air before neatly folding between a set of palms, squished together and vanishing in a way a dragon could only wish.
"Tomorrow will be a day of calm," I assured her. "Why, I intend for us to do nothing more than admire the swaying fields of my kingdom."
"Oh, okay. Will they be on fire?"
"There will be no fire." I paused to sip at my tea, emphasising the point. "And if there is, you must seek out and remove all evidence of any flaming tea pots at the scene."
"Got it! Keep everything dangerous for our own uses!"
I smiled, glad that such a diligent handmaiden could be relied upon in times to come.
"Exactly. But until then, the fair fields will be yours to admire. I'm delighted to say that after painstaking negotiations felt entirely by the moping dragon in the corner, I've secured an amendment to your contract regarding your right to undertake work in my kingdom–that is to say, on a long term basis."
"Really?" Coppelia looked towards the dragon, of whom only his back could be seen. "... Wow, I wasn't expecting that. What kind of work?"
"The most difficult."
"Eh?"
I nodded seriously.
Throwing the excess tea behind my shoulder, I gently lowered the cup. It was already filled by the time it was set down.
"It will be the same work as you have conducted thus far. Except far more terrible. You shall soon be faced with the worst my father's court has to offer. Treachery, deception, and the gall of those who sneeze directly into their hands as though that was better than literally anywhere else. Indeed, I shall not deceive you in regards to the scale of the horrors ahead. There is more than an endless mountain of free macarons which await in the Royal Villa. There is also snivelling, poverty and waxed moustaches. Only if you desire to brave the foul stench of those who infest the heart of my realm should you–"
"Woooooooooooo!!" Coppelia raised both arms in the air. "I officially get a holiday!"
"C-Coppelia! This … This is not a holiday!"
"This is amazing! I thought I'd need to stall for so long that the big guy eventually forgot what I was doing! Getting a holiday means I don't need to keep checking for random bonks coming out of nowhere!"
A large, spiky tail which had just been curled around a dragon slowly rose. I shooed it away with a cough.
"This is not a holiday," I repeated. "Merely a formalised arrangement of your time. You shall therefore be allowed to maintain both the title of a librarian–"
"Assistant librarian."
"–and a handmaiden. Know, however, that this means a significant workload. You'll have to assist me while pretending it has anything to do with aiding the library."
Coppelia nodded … all the while spinning on the spot, a leg raised in much the same manner as a clockwork ballerina atop a music box.
"Woooooooooo! I'll get to finish the Coppelia Guidebook!"
I let out a small groan … all the while lifting a tea cup in Coppelia's path. It was promptly slapped into the nether, before reappearing whole upon the picnic table.
Fireballs, explosions and meteors. Yet somehow, the stubbornness of a single tea cup was the most impressive magic I'd seen.
After a few moments, Coppelia decided to come to a stop.
"Okay! I'm done~"
"Excellent. Because so am I. A dragon has been rescued. And so too shall a princess. It's time we return. Now, please tell me you've a way to utilise that unspeakable black window of yours in a way which doesn't induce horror in its passengers."
"Nope~ but I've got good news! I'm pretty sure that thing's one-way only."
Whether I made a groan or sigh of relief, I'd never know.
It was drowned out by the sound of a dragon shifting from its corner of shame.
The wall he'd faced partially crumbled as a neck turned around, until a pair of narrowed green eyes was peering down at an innocently whistling clockwork doll.
"What unspeakable black window?"
"Hm? A black window? Why would I have a black window? Is it for food?"
"Coppelia."
My loyal handmaiden clapped her hands together and beamed.
"Ohhh, that thing! Well, we were sort of in a rush, you know, since you were kidnapped and needed rescuing. That's why I used the Clockwork Repository to–owie."
With a mastery of grace which should be well beyond anything this large, the very tip of a tail poked Coppelia's cheek.
She puffed it back out. Somehow.
"The Clockwork Repository is not for personal transportation. Never do that again."
Coppelia duly nodded, her smile in lieu of any explanation.
One I absolutely did not seek. Especially given the number of years I could count in the dragon's ensuing sigh. I blew away the wisps of smoke as his attention returned to me.
"... Princess. You may rob me of my library staff, but not my pride. As you have arrived for my sake, I shall take it upon myself to ensure your timely … and also safe departure. I have no lack of skilled mages, nor magic myself if need be."
"Oh? How excellent. I'd be all too delighted to accept."
"Very well. Then I suggest–"
"Because I do hope you know a spell for conjuring water."
The dragon blinked.
"Excuse me?"
I turned to Coppelia, trusting in her ability to leave no valuables behind.
"Coppelia? Did you bring Exhibit B?"
"I sure did!"
Clap.
An all too familiar window into the abyss appeared between her palm. And somehow, it was now even more ominous. The darkness came with its own smoke effect, billowing out as though fanned from a forge.
It came from something hotter still.
The undying flames of a dragon, wreathing Dawning Grace as the precious sword was unceremoniously flung to the ground. Coppelia shook and blew at her fingers as she sought to close her Clockwork Repository.
"Look at this," I said, gesturing pointedly at the weapon as it began melting the tile it was on. "This is supposed to be my grandmother's sword. It is now literally on fire."
The dragon leaned towards the result of his doing. Jade eyes narrowed at the molten flames entirely covering the sword from blade to hilt.
Then … the dragon nodded.
"Hmm. Impressive."
"Excuse me?!" I was aghast. "What is impressive about this?! How little I can use it? What am I going to do with a sword I cannot wield to frighten caterpillars without also burning down the leaves they're nibbling on as well?!"
"That is for you to decide," said the dragon, whose tone was filled only with a craftsman's pride. "Though I would usually claim a weapon engulfed by my flames for myself, I offer it as a keepsake. A reminder of my generosity, lasting longer than any gold. Let it not be said that dragons know only greed."
I raised my arms in outrage.
"You sneezed on it!"
"I did not sneeze on it," came the indignant response. "Fate decreed that it should lie in the path of my flames, to be imbued as a weapon able to shape the world and engrave the pages of history. A gift with little equal."
"Gift? What is the gift exactly? The handkerchief which comes with it?"
"It is a priceless heirloom set to burn away the darkness for a thousand years."
"It is already a priceless heirloom set to light the darkness for a thousand years! Except the burning was manageable! This is not! … I demand you fix this at once!"
The dragon's nose wrinkled.
"There is nothing to fix. It is functionally different, yes. But also improved."
"I do not want functionally different! I want exactly the same as before! A sword I can return to a treasury without melting all that is inside it. Why, I can't even pick this up! You may as well have set a barn on fire and given me that instead!"
The dragon paused.
"... Do you want a barn set on fire?"
"No!"
"Well, I cannot help, then. Aside from the fact it is galling to suggest I put out what I bequeathed with my own flames, I lack any spell to do so."
"Very well. Then throw it in a lake so it can be doused."
"No lake can douse this. For dragonfire burns hotter than any water."
I jabbed my finger towards the dragon.
It leaned away slightly.
"In that case, you are now officially in arrears. I am down one enchanted heirloom sword. Unless you can make amends, I am now owed another hoard."
A huff of disgruntlement came from the dragon. All the more so as Coppelia was joyfully waving her arm in front while hopping on the spot.
"Ooh, ooh! Actually, I know somewhere which can douse it!"
"You do not. There is no water which can calm the gift of dragonfire."
"There is! And if you'd taken up the offer to soak your claws the last time you were there, you'd remember about it."
A series of blinks met her statement. And then the sight of a dragon leaning away in sudden doubt, the uncertainty as clear as the moonlight reflecting off each scale.
"That is … unlikely."
"Coppelia?" I sent her a querying look. "To what are you referring to?"
She brought her hands together like a sister in prayer, her bright smile ushering away the night.
"Water drawn from untouched peaks," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "So pure that even water nymphs don't frolic in it. And they frolic in everything–all except this. Water so magical in property, it can calm everything from aching knees to enchanted flames. These are the hot springs surrounding a famous bathhouse, so soothing that the attached gift shop sells samples as reasonably priced healing potions."
My mouth widened.
"A bathhouse … are you referring to the one hiding your workshop?"
"Yup!" Coppelia nodded as memories of a past conversation regarding her workshop's unique public identity resurfaced. "I mentioned before how popular the bathhouse is, right? … Well, that's because of the enchanted hot springs!"
"Coppelia, no matter the efficacy of spring water, it surely cannot quell dragonfire … right?"
"You'd think so. But a full reservation list year round says otherwise. I'm pretty sure there's nothing the hot springs can't fix."
She clicked her fingers, then leaned slightly towards me.
"Plus, you know, I've been meaning to visit. Now's a great chance. You'll love it. I can arrange for you to have a private bath all to yourself. It'll be the best you'll ever experience. An uninterrupted dip in a 3 x 6 metre tub made from naturally fragrant cypresswood followed by dessert, then dinner, then more dessert. Just soaking in the hot spring for 15 minutes will smooth over any imperfections in your skin, opening up your pores and delaying the onset of wrinkles for another decade."
I was rendered speechless. Not least due to the idea that my skin could have imperfections.
Why … the dubiousness of the claims spoke for themselves!
After all, if this spring water was enough to soothe even dragonfire, then that would make it one of the most potent natural things to ever exist. It would be fought over by alchemists the world over. Such a thing was not only highly improbable, but very likely a rumour disseminated by the bathhouse itself.
"Let's go."
Thus, I nodded at once.
If Coppelia had business she wished to see to, then who was I to deny her? As her princess, it would be remiss of me not to maintain her loyalty.
Besides, I was certain there would be other practical benefits to her return.
The fact I was suddenly gulping like a goldfish, lips dry and body trembling?
That was normal.
I always did that.
"We're already in Ouzelia," I said, ignoring the random bouts of giggling Coppelia unfortunately suffered from. "If there's anything still to be done, then we may as well see to it now. The damage is already done. What is another day?"
"Well, it's more than another day. The workshop is pretty far."
"... How far?"
"That far." Coppelia pointed into the distance, where only invisible silhouettes existed beneath the curtain of night. "It's way in the mountains. The proper mountains and not this one. I think it'll take us about three weeks to get there. Longer with the horse."
I was horrified.
"Coppelia! This is the end of our journey in Ouzelia, not the start of another! … As much as I desire for you to visit your workshop for entirely unselfish purposes, there's simply no scenario we won't be stopped by a thousand calamities between here and there."
Indeed, even thinking about it was enough to make me faint!
Nothing good would happen from travelling the length and breadth of Ouzelia. Goodness knows what colour Apple would be if he ate too much of the things here.
And then–
A great shadow loomed overhead.
All of a sudden, I found a pair of immense jade eyes peering down at me. All hint of the brooding malaise was gone, replaced by a curious sense of … enthusiasm.
"Excuse me?" I looked up in suspicion. "What are you doing?"
The dragon chuckled in response … as once again, a claw reached out towards me.
"Making amends."
- Location
- Argentina
No clue why the princess was acting like a fish? Like it was a bit funny but feels like an orphaned punchline.
Gulping goldfish is cute! ... Although I can change it if it doesn't make sense too!
- Location
- Argentina
Maybe jumping like a little girl who had too much sugar? Trying to not walk to the sauna? I dunno.
Chapter 313: Footprints In The Water
New
The soft grass cradled the back of my head.
A sweet fragrance tickled my nose as I was gently roused from my slumber. Eyes slowly blinking open, I winced against the sunlight filtering through the tree leaves overhead, then relaxed to the warmth pressing against me like a warm duvet.
A familiar scene. But an unfamiliar place.
For as my fingers brushed against the grass, I could no more fool myself into believing this was my own orchard as I could the Winter Queen's bed as my own.
Fragrant as the mountain wildflowers were, none grew in the shade of the Royal Villa's walls. No scent of apples or snowdrops were here to whisk me home.
But it was enough to lighten the darkness. If only for a moment.
My fingers clenched against a tuft of grass as a terrible dream swept across my mind.
One filled with the rushing of wind as a great pair of wings fought against the weight of the sky, and what gentle complaints I had were lost to the sound of a certain handmaiden's gleeful laughter … along with the snorting of a horse as we were lifted across the face of a smirking moon.
Yes.
It truly was a terrible dream.
Yet as comforting as this bed of grass was, none could compare to what awaited me home. An orchard nurtured to hold my precise weight better than even the backs of those who tearfully and gratefully helped me measure this metric so it remained true.
I blinked at the ceiling of dancing leaves, and let out a sigh.
Indeed, there would be no fooling my senses today, kind as the deception was.
But just in case–
Apple snorted beside me.
Turning my head slightly, I saw my noble steed nibbling away at the grass, intent on reminding me that any not my own was worthy only as feed.
A fitting notion.
He'd yet to see my orchard, true. But when he did, I had little doubt he'd regard it in the same manner as the visiting nobility viewed the random splodge of paint on a wall a certain princess at just 2-years-old carefully composed.
A treasure to be admired. Without touching. And with no questions asked.
"Rise and shine~"
Something I needed to remind Coppelia before she saw it.
I turned to my other side. And there I saw a smile to eclipse the sunlight.
Coppelia was sitting beside me.
Except that whereas my legs were partially resting atop a bundle of daffodils, hers were paddling away, helping to fan the scent of sea salt and a fragrant grove.
I sat up, blowing a leaf from the front of my hair.
And then I blinked at the sight of a square wooden basin, its shallow pool of turquoise water almost entirely hidden to the steam.
Scarcely large enough to fit the wishes of a single duck, it was like a well dug into the earth which nobody could quite be bothered to finish.
Coppelia didn't mind.
Sat upon the wooden edge, she poked at an unseen base. A smile filled up my vision like a curtain drawing to a close. All the more so as she looked on in amusement while I took in a deep breath … before groaning with a rumble of my tummy.
The last part of me to wake up.
And all it wished to do was permanently go back to sleep.
"Coppelia."
"Present!"
"Let's never do this again."
"You mean being carried by a dragon through the sky who was definitely rolling around more than needed while two out of three of us were having an absolutely amazing time?"
"Yes. And by that I mean Ouzelia. Let's never do Ouzelia again."
Coppelia giggled as she sent a flick of water away like a mermaid slapping her fin.
Unlike a princess, she was accustomed to all the methods those of her homeland had to repeatedly spin her around. There was only one joy to be had from that. And it was the speed at which my memories of the ordeal were also tossed to the wayside.
Or in this case, dropped from the clouds.
"You say that, but wait until you experience the best thing Ouzelia has to offer … the number one reason to return as voted on by clockwork dolls within a 1 square metre radius!"
A toe peeked out from the surface of the world's smallest pond.
Seeing it, I was briefly reminded of a young princess who occasionally played upon the shores of the lake beside her home, before one day seeing that what appeared beside her toe was the waving claw of a carnivorous blood crab.
What I didn't see, however, was either a workshop or a bathhouse.
I shifted around slightly, all the while patting myself down to ensure only my wings were missing. Off went the clinging grass, if not my fatigue.
I shooed Apple away as he offered the assistance neither my hair nor attire required.
However, aside from my gluttonous horse, no attendants came hurrying while tripping and sweating to provide my morning entertainment.
"Coppelia, I don't see anything."
"You don't see my toe?"
"I do see your toe, yes. But what I don't see is a workshop. Or a popular bathhouse reserved year around. I notice the dragon isn't here either."
"Yup! The big guy flew off."
"Excuse me? What do you mean he flew off?"
"I mean he flew off. But not towards the library, so I'm pretty sure he's off kidnapping a mage or something. Don't worry, dragons keep their promises."
"I … I see? Did he not say anything?"
"I mean, he looked like he was going to prod you awake. But then he saw the drool coming from your mouth and then sort of flew off while pretending not to notice."
My hand wiped away the evidence which had long since disappeared.
"Hmm. How strange that he would immediately leave without even a glance. Yet I cannot guess the wisdom and absolute discretion of dragons. Did he simply abandon us in the middle of some desolate hinterlands, then?"
"Hey! These are my desolate hinterlands!"
"My apologies. Did he drop us off in the middle of your desolate hinterlands?"
"Nope~ he dropped us off exactly where we needed to be."
I nodded.
Indeed, I absolutely did not understand.
"I see … was that not supposed to be a workshop masquerading as a bathhouse?"
"Yup~ and here we are!" Coppelia waved with both arms towards the smallest bath I'd ever seen. "Welcome to a place of wonders, happiness and dreams, where all your weariness can be washed away … the best bathhouse in Ouzelia!"
Despite my tiredness, I gasped at once.
For a moment, it was all I could do but cover my mouth as I stared into the wooden basin, filled with just enough water to quench Apple's thirst for an entire gulp.
Why … all this time, I had made a grievous error!
Coppelia had been raised in the strangest of places. A secret workshop and then a hidden library. Just as she had no idea what a crème brûlée with a golden glaze which wasn't simply burned was, she too had no idea what constituted a bath or a pond.
For her to think that a little wooden square counted as anything more than a box …
Truly, for all her knowledge, she knew so little.
"Coppelia." I shuffled forwards, then reached out and planted my hands on her shoulders. "I see I have erred. All this time, I had thought it was I who needed to reach the Royal Villa. But I see your need is greatest."
"Eh?"
"Once we've arrived, I shall direct you to the largest bath available. I know it is difficult to imagine, but it is large enough that you can do more than only sink your legs in. It is designed for your entire figure to be submerged. But do not be frightened. I shall supervise you. Drowning would be an undignified way to go."
Such was the shock of this revelation, Coppelia could do nothing but tilt her head.
Yet after a moment, she merely offered her usual smile.
"Oh, that's okay. I can stay underwater for ages. Also I feel like I should tell you that I know what a bath is. Did I mention the workshop is also a bathhouse?"
"Yes, Coppelia, you did."
I duly pointed around me. At the mountains. Which could all be seen due to nothing building-shaped blocking them.
"A bathhouse which, unless it's truly the most exclusive location I've ever had a dragon dump me in, is entirely absent."
"Ahahaha~ well, about that, the bathhouse is gone."
I tapped my ears. And then blinked as well.
Even so, I didn't know which was functioning worse.
"Excuse me? … How could a bathhouse be gone?"
Coppelia giggled, then pointed to the back of a wooden sign which had already been partially chewed upon by Apple. I shuffled from my spot without bothering to stand, then stretched the last few inches to read the message from underneath.
I placed my face in my palms.
It wasn't enough to blur out the words I'd already read.
"Coppelia … what is this?"
"This is a very poorly written apology sign. Not a word about compensation. Our baths are good, but our customer service could be a bit better."
"Yes, that much is true … but what is this about relocating?"
Coppelia blinked at me, for all the world as though the idea of an entire bathhouse vanishing was the slightest bit unusual.
She tilted her head in thought, then shrugged.
"Well, it's not like spring water just heats itself. Sometimes we use magic, but since hiring mages is expensive, we usually just move to whichever mountain has the friendliest fire elementals."
"Your bathhouse can do that? What? Teleport wholesale?"
Coppelia waved away my question with a look of bemusement.
Apparently, this was where the line was drawn.
"Nope, it's nothing like that. You've met the big guy, but you haven't met the old guy. He can build anything. And a portable, collapsible and cartable bathhouse is the easiest thing he's made."
"... Coppelia, are you certain this is a bathhouse and not a travelling circus?"
"Of course. It's way better than a circus. It can fit in a single carriage. That means it can go anywhere. Who knows, maybe it'll even visit your orchard?"
I smiled.
"That would be an act of aggression and will not be tolerated."
Coppelia giggled, despite the fact I'd not said a word in jest. Wars had been started for less.
Then, she flicked another droplet of water with her foot.
"Well, that's the bad news. The good news is that there's probably a little killer fire elemental still somewhere underneath. Come try this. It feels amazing."
I peered down at the only remains of a nomadic workshop.
My shoulders fell, and not at all due to the thought of dipping my legs into a bucket.
"Coppelia, I was told there would be a private bath. Plus dessert, dinner and then dessert. I see a puddle."
"But it's a great puddle. Trust me!"
She patted the wooden edge next to her. I noted the splashes of water she was less than discreetly trying to wipe away.
After a moment, I rolled my eyes … before telling Apple not to eat my boots as I tip-toed over, the grass scrunching beneath my bare soles.
Setting myself down, I stretched my legs over the surface of the basin.
The steam tickled my skin. And then the water as I dipped in my heel. A few dabs later, I bravely allowed my legs to submerge.
"Hmm."
"Well, what do you think?"
I considered the sensation with a frown.
The warmth stopped at my knees, leaving the rest of myself to feel the comparative cold as what had just been a balmy morning was suddenly diminished. As I lifted a leg, the chill seemed to slap against it, made worse by the unease of feeling like I was somehow failing to submerge the rest of myself.
Thus, I took a deep breath.
And then–
"... Aaaaaaaaaaaahh …"
This … This was incredibly relaxing?!
"Heheh, what'd I say?" Coppelia let out a satisfied smile, then raised a finger like a tutor about to poke a point into my head. "This hot spring might be tiny, but the satisfaction isn't~"
"W-Why was this as relaxing as a full bath?! What sorcery is this?!"
"Only the sorcery of having a mountain breeze, happy toes and the soothing knowledge that you are now immune to work."
"Immune? What do you mean?"
"While in this mode, nobody is allowed to bother you for work related reasons. It's common knowledge. If you're bathing in a hot spring, it means you're relaxing after doing something which deserves said hot spring. Just touching it with your foot is enough to qualify. You are now invulnerable to work."
I nodded as understanding flooded me at once.
There was plenty Coppelia said which I failed to easily comprehend. But this logic right here?
Flawless.
"Very well. I see I've been lax in my thinking. Thank you for opening my eyes. I will commission one to be built in my bedroom at once."
"Ooh~ I like that! Nobody can make you do your princess things while you're busy relaxing. Except there's one problem."
"No, Coppelia. There are no problems."
"Do you have any fire elementals underneath your bedroom?"
"... Where there is a will, there is a way."
"Well, I hope your will involves hiring a mage to keep a flame permanently lit."
I pursed my lips.
That was certainly possible. But there was a reason I didn't have my bath constantly warmed.
It was an exceptionally noisy affair.
Whether it was the servants labouring as they carried the freshly drawn water up my tower or a visiting archmage forced to prove their credentials, there was clearly little relaxation to be had if a simple footbath faced the same issues.
Unless–
"Oho …"
"Eh?"
"Ohoho …"
"Wait, let me move before you–"
"Ohhohohohohohoho!!"
Only halfway escaped from the footbath, Coppelia was forced to lean away to avoid my hand as I raised it to my lips, barely covering my smile.
Why … if it was only a source of heat I required, then that was as simple as ringing my servant's bell … but for one which was both long lasting and silent, did I not now happen to have such a means gifted to me?
… Indeed, I could use my grandmother's sword!
With a brand which permanently burns hotter than water, no longer would I need to endure the long waits as I woke up to the sight of my baths already prepared!
Rather … why should I stop there?
Dawning Summer had returned to my family's possession. Yet why would such a fated reunion occur, if not to serve its purpose with renewed vigour?
Yes, to cleanse my kingdom.
Literally so.
The bathhouse I had wanted to fill up the desolate countryside?
Why, that no longer needed to be fuelled by a new forest each and every day!
It could all be heated by dragonfire–that which represented the undying flame of my kingdom's light … and if positioned just right, also a constant eyesore to the Grand Duchess from her tower!
With this sword … I could do away with the mud which plagued my kingdom and stared at it too!
It was … It was wonderful!
"Ohhohohoho!" I clapped my hands together as I turned to Coppelia. "Perhaps … Perhaps this awful detour to this frightening land was not in complete vain!"
"Eh? But didn't we get everything we wanted?"
"Indeed, we now have! I offer my gratitude! You have helped secure the prosperity and hygiene of my kingdom in ways that could never have been imagined!"
"... I feel like I did something bad."
"Nonsense. All you've done is ensure that anybody wishing to use a bathhouse will think twice before coming to Ouzelia for it. Why, to prioritise my kingdom's economy over your own homeland's is a sacrifice you had no need to make. Rest assured, I shall not allow this act of selfless loyalty to pass in vain!"
I beguiled Coppelia with a smile so warm that she herself temporarily forgot how to return it.
Fwuuuush.
And then any she hoped to form was lost to a shadow.
One which erased the morning light.
Like an entire flock of ravens and all their cousins rolled together, the silhouette of a dragon as it flew overhead was recognisable only from the gale it caused. The tiny footbath careened like an ocean in a storm, both water and steam whisking away to reveal the stone bottom underneath.
A moment later–
An immense green dragon descended.
Emerald wings monopolised both ends of the horizon. As great claws slowly found purchase on the grass, it was all I could do to wince while allowing the ensuing gust to dry off my raised legs.
Then, a pair of jade eyes glowed.
"[Empowered Nether Gate]."
Whatever the breeze caused by the dragon's wings, it was bested by the magic it cast.
A door unlike any I'd seen before swirled into existence.
This was not Coppelia's makeshift portal drawn from optimism and a contempt for personal safety. It was magic like I'd rarely seen. Wide enough to fit two carriages abreast, it was a gate rimmed in liquid gold, tempting even the grass towards it.
Yet for all its novelty, what drew me most was the sight beyond it.
A gentle shoreline. A forest blooming amidst spring. And the distant snow-capped mountains, devoid of any dragons or those who would kidnap them.
Like a portrait made of my hopes and dreams, my kingdom glimmered as it waited.
I almost threw myself towards it.
"You are fortunate," said the dragon, the satisfaction evident in his tone. "Few catalysts exist to cast a gate of this complexity. But I have found one from a generous grantor. Your tale here is ended. You may return to your kingdom to resume another, written as it doubtless is with your bold penmanship."
I smiled as I stood up.
And then–I offered another curtsy.
The minimum of formality. And also the stamp to mark my exit.
"Thank you for the hospitality, brief as our meeting is. I hope that when next we share subpar tea beneath the sky, it will be in gentler circumstances."
"As do I, Princess."
I nodded, ready to return.
Thus, I patted down my skirt … and then sat down once more, before dipping my feet into what remained of the hot spring for just a few seconds more.
A sweet fragrance tickled my nose as I was gently roused from my slumber. Eyes slowly blinking open, I winced against the sunlight filtering through the tree leaves overhead, then relaxed to the warmth pressing against me like a warm duvet.
A familiar scene. But an unfamiliar place.
For as my fingers brushed against the grass, I could no more fool myself into believing this was my own orchard as I could the Winter Queen's bed as my own.
Fragrant as the mountain wildflowers were, none grew in the shade of the Royal Villa's walls. No scent of apples or snowdrops were here to whisk me home.
But it was enough to lighten the darkness. If only for a moment.
My fingers clenched against a tuft of grass as a terrible dream swept across my mind.
One filled with the rushing of wind as a great pair of wings fought against the weight of the sky, and what gentle complaints I had were lost to the sound of a certain handmaiden's gleeful laughter … along with the snorting of a horse as we were lifted across the face of a smirking moon.
Yes.
It truly was a terrible dream.
Yet as comforting as this bed of grass was, none could compare to what awaited me home. An orchard nurtured to hold my precise weight better than even the backs of those who tearfully and gratefully helped me measure this metric so it remained true.
I blinked at the ceiling of dancing leaves, and let out a sigh.
Indeed, there would be no fooling my senses today, kind as the deception was.
But just in case–
Apple snorted beside me.
Turning my head slightly, I saw my noble steed nibbling away at the grass, intent on reminding me that any not my own was worthy only as feed.
A fitting notion.
He'd yet to see my orchard, true. But when he did, I had little doubt he'd regard it in the same manner as the visiting nobility viewed the random splodge of paint on a wall a certain princess at just 2-years-old carefully composed.
A treasure to be admired. Without touching. And with no questions asked.
"Rise and shine~"
Something I needed to remind Coppelia before she saw it.
I turned to my other side. And there I saw a smile to eclipse the sunlight.
Coppelia was sitting beside me.
Except that whereas my legs were partially resting atop a bundle of daffodils, hers were paddling away, helping to fan the scent of sea salt and a fragrant grove.
I sat up, blowing a leaf from the front of my hair.
And then I blinked at the sight of a square wooden basin, its shallow pool of turquoise water almost entirely hidden to the steam.
Scarcely large enough to fit the wishes of a single duck, it was like a well dug into the earth which nobody could quite be bothered to finish.
Coppelia didn't mind.
Sat upon the wooden edge, she poked at an unseen base. A smile filled up my vision like a curtain drawing to a close. All the more so as she looked on in amusement while I took in a deep breath … before groaning with a rumble of my tummy.
The last part of me to wake up.
And all it wished to do was permanently go back to sleep.
"Coppelia."
"Present!"
"Let's never do this again."
"You mean being carried by a dragon through the sky who was definitely rolling around more than needed while two out of three of us were having an absolutely amazing time?"
"Yes. And by that I mean Ouzelia. Let's never do Ouzelia again."
Coppelia giggled as she sent a flick of water away like a mermaid slapping her fin.
Unlike a princess, she was accustomed to all the methods those of her homeland had to repeatedly spin her around. There was only one joy to be had from that. And it was the speed at which my memories of the ordeal were also tossed to the wayside.
Or in this case, dropped from the clouds.
"You say that, but wait until you experience the best thing Ouzelia has to offer … the number one reason to return as voted on by clockwork dolls within a 1 square metre radius!"
A toe peeked out from the surface of the world's smallest pond.
Seeing it, I was briefly reminded of a young princess who occasionally played upon the shores of the lake beside her home, before one day seeing that what appeared beside her toe was the waving claw of a carnivorous blood crab.
What I didn't see, however, was either a workshop or a bathhouse.
I shifted around slightly, all the while patting myself down to ensure only my wings were missing. Off went the clinging grass, if not my fatigue.
I shooed Apple away as he offered the assistance neither my hair nor attire required.
However, aside from my gluttonous horse, no attendants came hurrying while tripping and sweating to provide my morning entertainment.
"Coppelia, I don't see anything."
"You don't see my toe?"
"I do see your toe, yes. But what I don't see is a workshop. Or a popular bathhouse reserved year around. I notice the dragon isn't here either."
"Yup! The big guy flew off."
"Excuse me? What do you mean he flew off?"
"I mean he flew off. But not towards the library, so I'm pretty sure he's off kidnapping a mage or something. Don't worry, dragons keep their promises."
"I … I see? Did he not say anything?"
"I mean, he looked like he was going to prod you awake. But then he saw the drool coming from your mouth and then sort of flew off while pretending not to notice."
My hand wiped away the evidence which had long since disappeared.
"Hmm. How strange that he would immediately leave without even a glance. Yet I cannot guess the wisdom and absolute discretion of dragons. Did he simply abandon us in the middle of some desolate hinterlands, then?"
"Hey! These are my desolate hinterlands!"
"My apologies. Did he drop us off in the middle of your desolate hinterlands?"
"Nope~ he dropped us off exactly where we needed to be."
I nodded.
Indeed, I absolutely did not understand.
"I see … was that not supposed to be a workshop masquerading as a bathhouse?"
"Yup~ and here we are!" Coppelia waved with both arms towards the smallest bath I'd ever seen. "Welcome to a place of wonders, happiness and dreams, where all your weariness can be washed away … the best bathhouse in Ouzelia!"
Despite my tiredness, I gasped at once.
For a moment, it was all I could do but cover my mouth as I stared into the wooden basin, filled with just enough water to quench Apple's thirst for an entire gulp.
Why … all this time, I had made a grievous error!
Coppelia had been raised in the strangest of places. A secret workshop and then a hidden library. Just as she had no idea what a crème brûlée with a golden glaze which wasn't simply burned was, she too had no idea what constituted a bath or a pond.
For her to think that a little wooden square counted as anything more than a box …
Truly, for all her knowledge, she knew so little.
"Coppelia." I shuffled forwards, then reached out and planted my hands on her shoulders. "I see I have erred. All this time, I had thought it was I who needed to reach the Royal Villa. But I see your need is greatest."
"Eh?"
"Once we've arrived, I shall direct you to the largest bath available. I know it is difficult to imagine, but it is large enough that you can do more than only sink your legs in. It is designed for your entire figure to be submerged. But do not be frightened. I shall supervise you. Drowning would be an undignified way to go."
Such was the shock of this revelation, Coppelia could do nothing but tilt her head.
Yet after a moment, she merely offered her usual smile.
"Oh, that's okay. I can stay underwater for ages. Also I feel like I should tell you that I know what a bath is. Did I mention the workshop is also a bathhouse?"
"Yes, Coppelia, you did."
I duly pointed around me. At the mountains. Which could all be seen due to nothing building-shaped blocking them.
"A bathhouse which, unless it's truly the most exclusive location I've ever had a dragon dump me in, is entirely absent."
"Ahahaha~ well, about that, the bathhouse is gone."
I tapped my ears. And then blinked as well.
Even so, I didn't know which was functioning worse.
"Excuse me? … How could a bathhouse be gone?"
Coppelia giggled, then pointed to the back of a wooden sign which had already been partially chewed upon by Apple. I shuffled from my spot without bothering to stand, then stretched the last few inches to read the message from underneath.
Dear customers,
Due to the migration of the fire elementals providing heating to the springs, the bathhouse will be relocating to a new premises. Reservations will reopen during the winter season after the completion of necessary renovations. All current reservations are cancelled.
We apologise for the inconvenience.
Management.
Due to the migration of the fire elementals providing heating to the springs, the bathhouse will be relocating to a new premises. Reservations will reopen during the winter season after the completion of necessary renovations. All current reservations are cancelled.
We apologise for the inconvenience.
Management.
I placed my face in my palms.
It wasn't enough to blur out the words I'd already read.
"Coppelia … what is this?"
"This is a very poorly written apology sign. Not a word about compensation. Our baths are good, but our customer service could be a bit better."
"Yes, that much is true … but what is this about relocating?"
Coppelia blinked at me, for all the world as though the idea of an entire bathhouse vanishing was the slightest bit unusual.
She tilted her head in thought, then shrugged.
"Well, it's not like spring water just heats itself. Sometimes we use magic, but since hiring mages is expensive, we usually just move to whichever mountain has the friendliest fire elementals."
"Your bathhouse can do that? What? Teleport wholesale?"
Coppelia waved away my question with a look of bemusement.
Apparently, this was where the line was drawn.
"Nope, it's nothing like that. You've met the big guy, but you haven't met the old guy. He can build anything. And a portable, collapsible and cartable bathhouse is the easiest thing he's made."
"... Coppelia, are you certain this is a bathhouse and not a travelling circus?"
"Of course. It's way better than a circus. It can fit in a single carriage. That means it can go anywhere. Who knows, maybe it'll even visit your orchard?"
I smiled.
"That would be an act of aggression and will not be tolerated."
Coppelia giggled, despite the fact I'd not said a word in jest. Wars had been started for less.
Then, she flicked another droplet of water with her foot.
"Well, that's the bad news. The good news is that there's probably a little killer fire elemental still somewhere underneath. Come try this. It feels amazing."
I peered down at the only remains of a nomadic workshop.
My shoulders fell, and not at all due to the thought of dipping my legs into a bucket.
"Coppelia, I was told there would be a private bath. Plus dessert, dinner and then dessert. I see a puddle."
"But it's a great puddle. Trust me!"
She patted the wooden edge next to her. I noted the splashes of water she was less than discreetly trying to wipe away.
After a moment, I rolled my eyes … before telling Apple not to eat my boots as I tip-toed over, the grass scrunching beneath my bare soles.
Setting myself down, I stretched my legs over the surface of the basin.
The steam tickled my skin. And then the water as I dipped in my heel. A few dabs later, I bravely allowed my legs to submerge.
"Hmm."
"Well, what do you think?"
I considered the sensation with a frown.
The warmth stopped at my knees, leaving the rest of myself to feel the comparative cold as what had just been a balmy morning was suddenly diminished. As I lifted a leg, the chill seemed to slap against it, made worse by the unease of feeling like I was somehow failing to submerge the rest of myself.
Thus, I took a deep breath.
And then–
"... Aaaaaaaaaaaahh …"
This … This was incredibly relaxing?!
"Heheh, what'd I say?" Coppelia let out a satisfied smile, then raised a finger like a tutor about to poke a point into my head. "This hot spring might be tiny, but the satisfaction isn't~"
"W-Why was this as relaxing as a full bath?! What sorcery is this?!"
"Only the sorcery of having a mountain breeze, happy toes and the soothing knowledge that you are now immune to work."
"Immune? What do you mean?"
"While in this mode, nobody is allowed to bother you for work related reasons. It's common knowledge. If you're bathing in a hot spring, it means you're relaxing after doing something which deserves said hot spring. Just touching it with your foot is enough to qualify. You are now invulnerable to work."
I nodded as understanding flooded me at once.
There was plenty Coppelia said which I failed to easily comprehend. But this logic right here?
Flawless.
"Very well. I see I've been lax in my thinking. Thank you for opening my eyes. I will commission one to be built in my bedroom at once."
"Ooh~ I like that! Nobody can make you do your princess things while you're busy relaxing. Except there's one problem."
"No, Coppelia. There are no problems."
"Do you have any fire elementals underneath your bedroom?"
"... Where there is a will, there is a way."
"Well, I hope your will involves hiring a mage to keep a flame permanently lit."
I pursed my lips.
That was certainly possible. But there was a reason I didn't have my bath constantly warmed.
It was an exceptionally noisy affair.
Whether it was the servants labouring as they carried the freshly drawn water up my tower or a visiting archmage forced to prove their credentials, there was clearly little relaxation to be had if a simple footbath faced the same issues.
Unless–
"Oho …"
"Eh?"
"Ohoho …"
"Wait, let me move before you–"
"Ohhohohohohohoho!!"
Only halfway escaped from the footbath, Coppelia was forced to lean away to avoid my hand as I raised it to my lips, barely covering my smile.
Why … if it was only a source of heat I required, then that was as simple as ringing my servant's bell … but for one which was both long lasting and silent, did I not now happen to have such a means gifted to me?
… Indeed, I could use my grandmother's sword!
With a brand which permanently burns hotter than water, no longer would I need to endure the long waits as I woke up to the sight of my baths already prepared!
Rather … why should I stop there?
Dawning Summer had returned to my family's possession. Yet why would such a fated reunion occur, if not to serve its purpose with renewed vigour?
Yes, to cleanse my kingdom.
Literally so.
The bathhouse I had wanted to fill up the desolate countryside?
Why, that no longer needed to be fuelled by a new forest each and every day!
It could all be heated by dragonfire–that which represented the undying flame of my kingdom's light … and if positioned just right, also a constant eyesore to the Grand Duchess from her tower!
With this sword … I could do away with the mud which plagued my kingdom and stared at it too!
It was … It was wonderful!
"Ohhohohoho!" I clapped my hands together as I turned to Coppelia. "Perhaps … Perhaps this awful detour to this frightening land was not in complete vain!"
"Eh? But didn't we get everything we wanted?"
"Indeed, we now have! I offer my gratitude! You have helped secure the prosperity and hygiene of my kingdom in ways that could never have been imagined!"
"... I feel like I did something bad."
"Nonsense. All you've done is ensure that anybody wishing to use a bathhouse will think twice before coming to Ouzelia for it. Why, to prioritise my kingdom's economy over your own homeland's is a sacrifice you had no need to make. Rest assured, I shall not allow this act of selfless loyalty to pass in vain!"
I beguiled Coppelia with a smile so warm that she herself temporarily forgot how to return it.
Fwuuuush.
And then any she hoped to form was lost to a shadow.
One which erased the morning light.
Like an entire flock of ravens and all their cousins rolled together, the silhouette of a dragon as it flew overhead was recognisable only from the gale it caused. The tiny footbath careened like an ocean in a storm, both water and steam whisking away to reveal the stone bottom underneath.
A moment later–
An immense green dragon descended.
Emerald wings monopolised both ends of the horizon. As great claws slowly found purchase on the grass, it was all I could do to wince while allowing the ensuing gust to dry off my raised legs.
Then, a pair of jade eyes glowed.
"[Empowered Nether Gate]."
Whatever the breeze caused by the dragon's wings, it was bested by the magic it cast.
A door unlike any I'd seen before swirled into existence.
This was not Coppelia's makeshift portal drawn from optimism and a contempt for personal safety. It was magic like I'd rarely seen. Wide enough to fit two carriages abreast, it was a gate rimmed in liquid gold, tempting even the grass towards it.
Yet for all its novelty, what drew me most was the sight beyond it.
A gentle shoreline. A forest blooming amidst spring. And the distant snow-capped mountains, devoid of any dragons or those who would kidnap them.
Like a portrait made of my hopes and dreams, my kingdom glimmered as it waited.
I almost threw myself towards it.
"You are fortunate," said the dragon, the satisfaction evident in his tone. "Few catalysts exist to cast a gate of this complexity. But I have found one from a generous grantor. Your tale here is ended. You may return to your kingdom to resume another, written as it doubtless is with your bold penmanship."
I smiled as I stood up.
And then–I offered another curtsy.
The minimum of formality. And also the stamp to mark my exit.
"Thank you for the hospitality, brief as our meeting is. I hope that when next we share subpar tea beneath the sky, it will be in gentler circumstances."
"As do I, Princess."
I nodded, ready to return.
Thus, I patted down my skirt … and then sat down once more, before dipping my feet into what remained of the hot spring for just a few seconds more.
Last edited:
- Location
- Argentina
New Juliette sticker!
Juliette: Candy colored swirling socks? Oh my this Protagonist is quite daring!
Chapter 314: Mutual Understanding
New
Virudaax the Learned was a well-respected dragon.
That's not to say that all dragons weren't well-respected. They were. Dragons were big. They had claws, teeth, wings and the ability to roast food without needing to impose upon somebody else's kitchen.
That meant they warranted a certain kind of respect.
The type that involved anything unfortunate enough to be born with only two legs running away while shrieking at the top of their lungs, often while tripping up whoever was nearest to them.
Virudaax never understood why they did that.
Dragons were noble creatures. And while that didn't mean they wouldn't eat those running away from them, it did mean they possessed a certain standard regarding which of those running away they ate. And somebody still running away was far more palatable than somebody now covered in mud and wet stuff on the ground.
Not that Virudaax had ever eaten anyone fleeing from him.
Mostly because he never had the chance.
He was a different dragon. And so was the respect afforded to him.
Unlike his peers, people didn't flee from him.
Far from it, they went towards him, often with armfuls of books while hoping to receive an equivalent number of books in return.
Virudaax the Learned was the curator of the Hidden Library.
Even before the Queensholme Accords were inked, he eschewed the burning, looting and cackling those around him enjoyed as afternoon hobbies. He was a scholar and a student before he was a dragon.
And what he taught and learned were the mysteries of all things.
The meaning of life. The workings of magic. The origins of the world. And the reason halflings grew tiny amounts of hair behind their ears, despite it serving no practical purpose.
As a result, Virudaax knew many things.
Not as much as he wished. But more than all the living sages in Ouzelia combined.
He was a library unto himself, his ancient mind a constant vortex of knowledge. Of theories. Of contradictions. Of possibilities.
Except now.
Now, Virudaax was experiencing a sensation he hadn't felt for a very long time.
He wasn't thinking at all.
Instead, he was blinking at the figure of a tiny human princess as she strolled through his [Empowered Nether Gate] … having first tried and failed to encourage her horse to enter first.
Indeed … for the first time in at least two centuries, maybe three centuries, Virudaax the Learned was stumped.
He'd met princesses in his time, of course. Daughters of tyrants and beggars, and those destined to become tyrants and beggars in turn.
He'd known their pull towards him, for dragons were made of stories as much as blood, and few things littered the pages of fairy tales more than the fate of princesses.
Frankly, he'd thought them overrated.
But this one … this one was enough to pique his interest.
And the interest of a dragon was rarer than the treasure they guarded.
Fleur's unfortunate, if well-intended idea to fundraise for the library through inciting a pillaging spree across the continent was always doomed to fail. Nothing could shackle a dragon. Not even desire. The lust for gold could never overcome the call for freedom spun by the gulls who shared the same sky.
Given just a few years, he was certain he'd have blinked awake, none the worse for wear other than the gold and jewels weighing him down.
Instead, he'd been practically shaken back into the world … and what it took was a princess whose presence shone as vividly as his own scales.
That was why–
Just as the horse trotted through the gate, he swept out his tail, blocking the way for the only one remaining.
Coppelia turned around, head tilted slightly as she offered a smile bereft of shame.
"Heheh~ second thoughts, huh?"
"Most certainly not. I shall not renege on an arrangement once made."
"Oh, okay. Because I was expecting this to be the bit where you ask me if I fancy staying a bit longer to tidy some shelves while pushing a heap of gold towards me."
"I have utterly no intention of bribing you."
"Great. Because that also wouldn't work. Wink, wink."
Virudaax swished the tip of his tail slightly. Coppelia instinctively ducked her head.
"I've neither a reason nor a wish to prevent your leave. Your contract still holds. You remain an assistant librarian. Your place of employment has merely relocated. For now. This is not a holiday."
"Hey! Work that's fun is work that's productive! Did you see how I got that really hard to find book and all that debt back? I'm amazing!"
"One task is complete, but another appears. I intend to thoroughly pore over every page to be found in the home of Tirea's royalty. And so shall you."
Coppelia's smile suddenly became very fixed.
"Hmm? I thought I was just punting things through the thingy?"
"You are not punting anything." Virudaax wrinkled his snout. "You will treat every book you find with the respect which is warranted. And as Fleur will be busy cleaning shelves for the foreseeable future, now is the time you shall begin taking up additional responsibilities."
A look of horror sprouted upon Coppelia's face.
"Are … Are you threatening me with a promotion?"
"It is not a threat. It is an honour. One which I certainly have not decided upon yet."
"Oh, thank goodness. I thought I saw my life beginning to flash."
Virudaax narrowed his eyes as he leaned forwards.
"You have not done enough work for that. Begin by cataloguing every book under the possession of Tirea's royal family."
"By cataloguing, you mean–"
"Find everything. Search out every crevice, every corner, every bucket. Even for us, the abodes of royalty are often off-limits. I shall not see this exchange squandered. Do not allow a page to be missed. I have been promised the finest forbidden works hidden to even my eyes. I intend to read them–no matter where they seek to hide."
To Virudaax's puzzlement, Coppelia responded with a look bordering on hesitation.
In fact … it looked almost like pain.
It lasted for only a moment.
With a smile which persisted no matter how often he wrinkled his nose at her, his librarian gave a fervent nod, promising to deliver what was owed for her time.
"Got it! I'll be sure to look everywhere! No cabinet, pantry or mixing bowl still filled with cake dough will be safe!"
Virudaax almost sent out another huff.
Instead, he considered Coppelia's momentary lapse of misgiving.
For one of his own librarians to display such a reaction could only mean one thing. She already had an inkling of what awaited. And it was beyond anything he had read.
More than ever, the ancient dragon was now intrigued … almost as much as he was concerned.
"This princess … how exactly did you come to be acquainted?"
"We met in a forest. She blew it up."
Virudaax paused.
Hermit or not, he was still a dragon. And he knew enough prudence to understand that some details were better left for historians to concern themselves with. Particularly if it involved a letter of complaint heading his way.
The problem was the trinket Coppelia now bore.
The fae, after all, did not issue letters. They issued wrath as unremitting as the seasons. Or gifts laced in debt.
He hoped the ring she wore was the former.
"Please tell me the forest did not belong to the fae."
"Don't worry, it was just a normal forest. If it was bigger, the explosion would have been a lot bigger."
"I hope that's not indicative of any feud you've encouraged. I note you carry an object belonging to them. Somehow."
Coppelia frowned, then leaned away.
"Mine," she said as she hugged her hand.
"I do not want your ring," he said with a sigh. Several trees bent away from him at once. "I want to know how it was attained. The fae are easily amused, but not easily deceived. Their ire would ruin the library's reception, to say nothing of the entry outside. The patio was only just repaved."
"Oh, in that case, you don't need to worry. I didn't do anything."
"... The princess, then."
"Yup! No idea what she did. But I bet it involved extortion. And also that laughter."
Virudaax let out a tiny, earth shuddering groan.
He had on occasion sought out the fae. He hoped they would never seek him out in turn. A hope he would hold all the way until it inevitably failed. For a princess to bargain with the fae was a tale in itself. Just as it was to approach a waking dragon.
It was a tale he expected to read, once the ink had set.
"I'm aware she provided assistance in retrieving what was owed to us. A point I acknowledged while accepting her offer. I find this human noteworthy. Tell me, what is your opinion regarding this curious princess?"
Coppelia poked her own cheek in thought.
After a moment, she threw her arms up and gave a beaming smile.
"I like her! She's fun!"
Virudaax waited a moment.
Nothing else was offered. Yet rather than his nose wrinkling at the lack of context, he found his entire frame relaxing. A peculiar reaction he understood no more than the pleasing warmth in his throat, despite his flame being still.
He made a mental note to review Mizzirin's Draconic Physiology, 5th edition afterwards to understand what that reaction signified.
He hoped that didn't mean he was dying.
"Anyway, I'm off now!" said Coppelia as she climbed the spikes upon his tail. "You know, before the gate spell which is eating up magical energy like a bonfire closes. But don't worry, I'll gently punt the best or the worst of the forbidden books over."
And just like that, the feeling of relaxation was swept away like a barn.
Virudaax huffed as his librarian hopped over his tail.
As ever, she paused only when deciding which item at the breakfast buffet she wanted to eat first. She instead whistled, never once looking back as she followed after a princess and a particularly unbothered horse.
He gave her a little poke on the way out.
Partly because he felt like it. But mostly to prevent the gate prematurely collapsing should a heroine take the view that it contravened article 31a of the Queensholme Accords regarding endangering the fabric of reality.
A law he always viewed as highly selective.
After all, not only would that make every mage with a spoon a culprit, but few things were as destructive to the natural order of things as the swords carried by those tasked with upholding it.
Virudaax peered up.
"You are late, Miss Rowe."
He waited.
A moment later, he witnessed the sight of a girl on a yellow broomstick descending from the clouds with far more ease than anyone not a witch should be able to boast.
A girl who matched the princess in youth, and equally so in the trials and tribulations of a unique life.
Elise Rowe.
The official heroine of the Duchy of Witschblume.
She wore a waitress uniform along with a professional smile, tempered in the unforgiving gauntlet of both public and customer service. For despite the yellow broomstick and the frilled apron, it was the sword at her back which drew the eyes of all around her.
A dragon's, most especially.
"Actually, I'm not even here," said Elise brightly. "I'm officially on holiday."
"You appear to be wearing a uniform."
"Oh, the holiday is regarding my heroine duties. I'm not on holiday from the café. Which is quite a problem, since Duchess Cadence wrote an edict saying I need to use up all my allowance before I can come back. We've opened up a pop-up branch in Widzenport until then. You should visit. The chiffon cakes are the same as always."
Virudaax thought for a moment.
In truth, he already missed his library. But perhaps this entire incident only occurred because he spent too much time there.
"I shall consider it."
Elise smiled, then looked pointedly to the side.
The grass and the leaves had calmed, yet such was the potency of the spell that had occurred, the fading image of a gate could still be seen even after the magic had waned.
"Did I miss much?" she asked.
"I believe you are in a better position than me to answer that. I have been asleep. You, I imagine, were observing carefully. From a distance which the witches would take issue at, I should add. Did you not feel the need to make yourself known?"
The heroine tilted her head slightly as she hummed.
Whatever her answer, it was unlikely to reference her broomstick's upgraded nature.
"Nope," she said cheerfully, having not actually thought at all. "It seemed impolite to interrupt. This wasn't my tale."
Virudaax snorted. Elise expertly rolled out of the way of the ensuing flame.
"I see you are reliable in defying expectations, much like my own staff. Yet I believe it is best to not allow too many princesses to rescue dragons in need. It would set a hammer to tradition."
"Oh, I don't think that's a concern. Our princesses delight in being kidnapped. There's actually a bidding war going on right now. I saw harps, fancy dresses and example screaming all on display just to woo the best dragon. You should take part."
"Thank you. But I shall pass. It is unlikely that any princess would command my attention as much as the one who has now left."
Elise nodded as she peered at the remains of a footbath.
She less than subtly descended towards it.
"The princess certainly looked the part. Very pretty. Although I couldn't look too closely. My sword was burning so much I thought another Next Great Evil had awoken. Which kingdom was she from?"
"The Kingdom of Tirea."
"Oh, really? I met someone from there not too long ago. An older lady. She was beating up a tribe of marauding centaurs with a shoe."
"I see."
Elise paused, then looked thoughtfully to the horizon.
"... The Kingdom of Tirea. It is a slightly odd place, isn't it?"
"Yes." Virudaax the Learned nodded seriously. "I think so as well."
That's not to say that all dragons weren't well-respected. They were. Dragons were big. They had claws, teeth, wings and the ability to roast food without needing to impose upon somebody else's kitchen.
That meant they warranted a certain kind of respect.
The type that involved anything unfortunate enough to be born with only two legs running away while shrieking at the top of their lungs, often while tripping up whoever was nearest to them.
Virudaax never understood why they did that.
Dragons were noble creatures. And while that didn't mean they wouldn't eat those running away from them, it did mean they possessed a certain standard regarding which of those running away they ate. And somebody still running away was far more palatable than somebody now covered in mud and wet stuff on the ground.
Not that Virudaax had ever eaten anyone fleeing from him.
Mostly because he never had the chance.
He was a different dragon. And so was the respect afforded to him.
Unlike his peers, people didn't flee from him.
Far from it, they went towards him, often with armfuls of books while hoping to receive an equivalent number of books in return.
Virudaax the Learned was the curator of the Hidden Library.
Even before the Queensholme Accords were inked, he eschewed the burning, looting and cackling those around him enjoyed as afternoon hobbies. He was a scholar and a student before he was a dragon.
And what he taught and learned were the mysteries of all things.
The meaning of life. The workings of magic. The origins of the world. And the reason halflings grew tiny amounts of hair behind their ears, despite it serving no practical purpose.
As a result, Virudaax knew many things.
Not as much as he wished. But more than all the living sages in Ouzelia combined.
He was a library unto himself, his ancient mind a constant vortex of knowledge. Of theories. Of contradictions. Of possibilities.
Except now.
Now, Virudaax was experiencing a sensation he hadn't felt for a very long time.
He wasn't thinking at all.
Instead, he was blinking at the figure of a tiny human princess as she strolled through his [Empowered Nether Gate] … having first tried and failed to encourage her horse to enter first.
Indeed … for the first time in at least two centuries, maybe three centuries, Virudaax the Learned was stumped.
He'd met princesses in his time, of course. Daughters of tyrants and beggars, and those destined to become tyrants and beggars in turn.
He'd known their pull towards him, for dragons were made of stories as much as blood, and few things littered the pages of fairy tales more than the fate of princesses.
Frankly, he'd thought them overrated.
But this one … this one was enough to pique his interest.
And the interest of a dragon was rarer than the treasure they guarded.
Fleur's unfortunate, if well-intended idea to fundraise for the library through inciting a pillaging spree across the continent was always doomed to fail. Nothing could shackle a dragon. Not even desire. The lust for gold could never overcome the call for freedom spun by the gulls who shared the same sky.
Given just a few years, he was certain he'd have blinked awake, none the worse for wear other than the gold and jewels weighing him down.
Instead, he'd been practically shaken back into the world … and what it took was a princess whose presence shone as vividly as his own scales.
That was why–
Just as the horse trotted through the gate, he swept out his tail, blocking the way for the only one remaining.
Coppelia turned around, head tilted slightly as she offered a smile bereft of shame.
"Heheh~ second thoughts, huh?"
"Most certainly not. I shall not renege on an arrangement once made."
"Oh, okay. Because I was expecting this to be the bit where you ask me if I fancy staying a bit longer to tidy some shelves while pushing a heap of gold towards me."
"I have utterly no intention of bribing you."
"Great. Because that also wouldn't work. Wink, wink."
Virudaax swished the tip of his tail slightly. Coppelia instinctively ducked her head.
"I've neither a reason nor a wish to prevent your leave. Your contract still holds. You remain an assistant librarian. Your place of employment has merely relocated. For now. This is not a holiday."
"Hey! Work that's fun is work that's productive! Did you see how I got that really hard to find book and all that debt back? I'm amazing!"
"One task is complete, but another appears. I intend to thoroughly pore over every page to be found in the home of Tirea's royalty. And so shall you."
Coppelia's smile suddenly became very fixed.
"Hmm? I thought I was just punting things through the thingy?"
"You are not punting anything." Virudaax wrinkled his snout. "You will treat every book you find with the respect which is warranted. And as Fleur will be busy cleaning shelves for the foreseeable future, now is the time you shall begin taking up additional responsibilities."
A look of horror sprouted upon Coppelia's face.
"Are … Are you threatening me with a promotion?"
"It is not a threat. It is an honour. One which I certainly have not decided upon yet."
"Oh, thank goodness. I thought I saw my life beginning to flash."
Virudaax narrowed his eyes as he leaned forwards.
"You have not done enough work for that. Begin by cataloguing every book under the possession of Tirea's royal family."
"By cataloguing, you mean–"
"Find everything. Search out every crevice, every corner, every bucket. Even for us, the abodes of royalty are often off-limits. I shall not see this exchange squandered. Do not allow a page to be missed. I have been promised the finest forbidden works hidden to even my eyes. I intend to read them–no matter where they seek to hide."
To Virudaax's puzzlement, Coppelia responded with a look bordering on hesitation.
In fact … it looked almost like pain.
It lasted for only a moment.
With a smile which persisted no matter how often he wrinkled his nose at her, his librarian gave a fervent nod, promising to deliver what was owed for her time.
"Got it! I'll be sure to look everywhere! No cabinet, pantry or mixing bowl still filled with cake dough will be safe!"
Virudaax almost sent out another huff.
Instead, he considered Coppelia's momentary lapse of misgiving.
For one of his own librarians to display such a reaction could only mean one thing. She already had an inkling of what awaited. And it was beyond anything he had read.
More than ever, the ancient dragon was now intrigued … almost as much as he was concerned.
"This princess … how exactly did you come to be acquainted?"
"We met in a forest. She blew it up."
Virudaax paused.
Hermit or not, he was still a dragon. And he knew enough prudence to understand that some details were better left for historians to concern themselves with. Particularly if it involved a letter of complaint heading his way.
The problem was the trinket Coppelia now bore.
The fae, after all, did not issue letters. They issued wrath as unremitting as the seasons. Or gifts laced in debt.
He hoped the ring she wore was the former.
"Please tell me the forest did not belong to the fae."
"Don't worry, it was just a normal forest. If it was bigger, the explosion would have been a lot bigger."
"I hope that's not indicative of any feud you've encouraged. I note you carry an object belonging to them. Somehow."
Coppelia frowned, then leaned away.
"Mine," she said as she hugged her hand.
"I do not want your ring," he said with a sigh. Several trees bent away from him at once. "I want to know how it was attained. The fae are easily amused, but not easily deceived. Their ire would ruin the library's reception, to say nothing of the entry outside. The patio was only just repaved."
"Oh, in that case, you don't need to worry. I didn't do anything."
"... The princess, then."
"Yup! No idea what she did. But I bet it involved extortion. And also that laughter."
Virudaax let out a tiny, earth shuddering groan.
He had on occasion sought out the fae. He hoped they would never seek him out in turn. A hope he would hold all the way until it inevitably failed. For a princess to bargain with the fae was a tale in itself. Just as it was to approach a waking dragon.
It was a tale he expected to read, once the ink had set.
"I'm aware she provided assistance in retrieving what was owed to us. A point I acknowledged while accepting her offer. I find this human noteworthy. Tell me, what is your opinion regarding this curious princess?"
Coppelia poked her own cheek in thought.
After a moment, she threw her arms up and gave a beaming smile.
"I like her! She's fun!"
Virudaax waited a moment.
Nothing else was offered. Yet rather than his nose wrinkling at the lack of context, he found his entire frame relaxing. A peculiar reaction he understood no more than the pleasing warmth in his throat, despite his flame being still.
He made a mental note to review Mizzirin's Draconic Physiology, 5th edition afterwards to understand what that reaction signified.
He hoped that didn't mean he was dying.
"Anyway, I'm off now!" said Coppelia as she climbed the spikes upon his tail. "You know, before the gate spell which is eating up magical energy like a bonfire closes. But don't worry, I'll gently punt the best or the worst of the forbidden books over."
And just like that, the feeling of relaxation was swept away like a barn.
Virudaax huffed as his librarian hopped over his tail.
As ever, she paused only when deciding which item at the breakfast buffet she wanted to eat first. She instead whistled, never once looking back as she followed after a princess and a particularly unbothered horse.
He gave her a little poke on the way out.
Partly because he felt like it. But mostly to prevent the gate prematurely collapsing should a heroine take the view that it contravened article 31a of the Queensholme Accords regarding endangering the fabric of reality.
A law he always viewed as highly selective.
After all, not only would that make every mage with a spoon a culprit, but few things were as destructive to the natural order of things as the swords carried by those tasked with upholding it.
Virudaax peered up.
"You are late, Miss Rowe."
He waited.
A moment later, he witnessed the sight of a girl on a yellow broomstick descending from the clouds with far more ease than anyone not a witch should be able to boast.
A girl who matched the princess in youth, and equally so in the trials and tribulations of a unique life.
Elise Rowe.
The official heroine of the Duchy of Witschblume.
She wore a waitress uniform along with a professional smile, tempered in the unforgiving gauntlet of both public and customer service. For despite the yellow broomstick and the frilled apron, it was the sword at her back which drew the eyes of all around her.
A dragon's, most especially.
"Actually, I'm not even here," said Elise brightly. "I'm officially on holiday."
"You appear to be wearing a uniform."
"Oh, the holiday is regarding my heroine duties. I'm not on holiday from the café. Which is quite a problem, since Duchess Cadence wrote an edict saying I need to use up all my allowance before I can come back. We've opened up a pop-up branch in Widzenport until then. You should visit. The chiffon cakes are the same as always."
Virudaax thought for a moment.
In truth, he already missed his library. But perhaps this entire incident only occurred because he spent too much time there.
"I shall consider it."
Elise smiled, then looked pointedly to the side.
The grass and the leaves had calmed, yet such was the potency of the spell that had occurred, the fading image of a gate could still be seen even after the magic had waned.
"Did I miss much?" she asked.
"I believe you are in a better position than me to answer that. I have been asleep. You, I imagine, were observing carefully. From a distance which the witches would take issue at, I should add. Did you not feel the need to make yourself known?"
The heroine tilted her head slightly as she hummed.
Whatever her answer, it was unlikely to reference her broomstick's upgraded nature.
"Nope," she said cheerfully, having not actually thought at all. "It seemed impolite to interrupt. This wasn't my tale."
Virudaax snorted. Elise expertly rolled out of the way of the ensuing flame.
"I see you are reliable in defying expectations, much like my own staff. Yet I believe it is best to not allow too many princesses to rescue dragons in need. It would set a hammer to tradition."
"Oh, I don't think that's a concern. Our princesses delight in being kidnapped. There's actually a bidding war going on right now. I saw harps, fancy dresses and example screaming all on display just to woo the best dragon. You should take part."
"Thank you. But I shall pass. It is unlikely that any princess would command my attention as much as the one who has now left."
Elise nodded as she peered at the remains of a footbath.
She less than subtly descended towards it.
"The princess certainly looked the part. Very pretty. Although I couldn't look too closely. My sword was burning so much I thought another Next Great Evil had awoken. Which kingdom was she from?"
"The Kingdom of Tirea."
"Oh, really? I met someone from there not too long ago. An older lady. She was beating up a tribe of marauding centaurs with a shoe."
"I see."
Elise paused, then looked thoughtfully to the horizon.
"... The Kingdom of Tirea. It is a slightly odd place, isn't it?"
"Yes." Virudaax the Learned nodded seriously. "I think so as well."
Welp. Elise had the chance to intervene, but didn't.
After all, the villainess always gets away. Especially a villainess like Juliette.
I have the sinking feeling that she is a BBEG backup. Like, all she needs is a tragic backstory and BAM!
World class threat, global empress of evil.
Global soap empire.
After all, the villainess always gets away. Especially a villainess like Juliette.
I have the sinking feeling that she is a BBEG backup. Like, all she needs is a tragic backstory and BAM!
World class threat, global empress of evil.
Global soap empire.
- Location
- Argentina
Eh she has to become a Queen first and she definitely doesn't want the job.
Only way she is becoming queen is is every other member of her family cannot do it.
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