“Is she your teammate?”
Aurina asked, her voice sharp with curiosity.
“The little white worm who was with you in the dragon’s lair, the one who slashed at… my father?”
“I’ve all but given up correcting your racially insensitive terms,” Richard replied dryly.
“Mostly out of humanitarian concern and, frankly, consideration for your intellectual development—any more of this and you might actually break something.”
“But I’d advise against mocking her. She’s not exactly benevolent. Cross her, and she’ll burn you to ash with a flick of her magic to protect her pride.”
Aurina planted her hands on her hips, defiance flashing in her eyes.
“I’ve never feared magic,” she declared, though her mind drifted, sifting through fragments of her past life.
Each recollection stirred an itch beneath her soles, a primal urge to pin Richard beneath her foot and punish this insolent creature who dared slay her—the mightiest of dragons.
Stomping one white-socked foot against the ground, she tilted her head.
“So, it’s that… horned white worm, isn’t it?”
The memory of that female’s arcane prowess lingered vividly.
Vicious, cunning—she’d nearly finished Richard off in their duel, only to vanish with a teleportation spell when the tide turned.
And when Aurina had rushed to unearth the cave’s entrance, there she was again, ready to fight anew.
That kind of female, Aurina thought, needs to be thoroughly tamed—made to bear the seed of a dragon.
Her tail flicked upward, ambition surging through her veins.
Richard’s gaze narrowed.
“Hold on.
How do you know she has a horn?”
“Gah?”
Aurina froze, her eyes darting nervously as her tail drooped limply.
Richard studied her, this petite figure barely four feet tall, delicate and deceptively adorable.
Despite devouring countless cattle, sheep, and fish, her frame remained unchanged—small, almost fragile.
The only hint of transformation was the subtle curve now softening her once-stick-thin legs.
“Sometimes,” Richard mused, rubbing his chin, “I swear you’re the Dread Dragon reborn. The way you talk, it’s like that ancient terror’s come back to life.”
He chuckled lightly.
“What’s with your face? You’re pale as milk. Are you sick?”
“Gah… too much milk,” she muttered, flustered.
“Was my joke that bad?”
Richard asked, his tone mock-serious as he launched into an explanation.
“See, the humor comes from comparing the millennia-old Dread Dragon to a tiny, cute, and utterly clueless girl. It’s the contrast—it’s supposed to make you laugh!”
Truly, my unparalleled wisdom towers over this so-called mightiest worm!
Aurina thought triumphantly.
“Gahaha!”
She burst into laughter, doubling over.
Richard raised an eyebrow.
“You’re the first person to laugh at my joke explanation without forcing a polite smile. That’s a new one.”
“Gahaha!”
Aurina cackled louder, clutching her stomach as she rolled on the ground twice before springing to her feet, her face alight with confidence.
Richard felt a flicker of warmth.
For the first time, one of his jokes had landed—genuinely.
Others had only ever humored him, their smiles tinged with deference to his status or strength.
Aurina’s laughter faded, and she tilted her head.
“Is she pretty?”
“Beautiful,” Richard admitted.
“Before my fiancée and I met her, we were warned to brace ourselves, to not freeze in awe on the spot.”
Aurina’s brow furrowed, skeptical.
She’d noticed how Richard’s gaze sometimes lingered on her feet or tail.
“How tall is she?”
“Tall,” he said.
“In heels, she’s taller than me.”
“Her legs?”
“Long.”
“Her chest?”
“Not overly full, but perfectly shaped,” Richard replied.
“Why the sudden interest? You’re still a girl, yet you’re asking questions like some young knight.”
Aurina’s mind painted a vivid picture of this flawless human female.
Without a word, she turned and stormed out the door.
“Aurina? Where are you going?”
Richard called after her.
“This king is off to bid farewell to my mates!” she shouted back.
“Hurry up,” Richard said.
“We’re leaving soon.”
Aurina sprinted down the corridor, her heart racing at the thought of conquering yet another female.
Over the past few days, the noblewomen and maidens had gathered for a banquet, the manor’s ample rooms accommodating them all.
“My wives!”
Aurina announced, bursting through the door to find a gaggle of ladies chattering in the hall.
“Is that Aurina?”
“Come here, darling!” called the buxom matron, opening her arms.
Like a cat, Aurina leapt into her embrace, sparking envious glances from the others.
“What’s wrong?” the matron asked, ruffling Aurina’s hair.
“This king must leave,” Aurina declared.
“A pity I couldn’t leave you all with dragonlings. But don’t grieve too much. When you see a shooting star in the sky, know that it’s me, returned!”
Her words sparked a roar of laughter.
With no men present, the women shed their usual decorum, forgoing fans and handkerchiefs to cover their mirth.
“You’re adorable,” the matron said, pinching Aurina’s cheek.
“Are you off to join Richard’s knightly order and tour the realm?”
“No,” Aurina replied.
“It’s for the Countess of Champagne. They say she’s breathtakingly beautiful. I’m taking my beast of burden to meet her.”
The oval-faced maiden teased, “Our dragon princess is smitten, forgetting all about us!”
Another wave of laughter rippled through the room.
“No matter,” Aurina grinned.
“I’ll come back for you all. And I’m a dragon king—king of kings!”
More giggles followed.
But Aurina’s smile faltered.
Beneath their laughter, she sensed warmth, amusement, affection—but none of the awe or reverence she once commanded.
The matron handed her a handkerchief.
“I sewed this myself.”
“A token of love!”
Aurina declared, kissing the matron’s cheek as familiar ground returned beneath her.
“I’ll treasure it.”
“You’re a clever one,” the matron laughed.
“Tie it to Richard’s lance.”
“Remem—wait, what?”
Aurina’s head snapped up.
“Why?”
“Chivalry,” the matron explained.
“To fight for a lady’s honor is a knight’s dream, even if Richard’s betrothed. He’s loyal and noble; he’d accept your gift. Listen to an old woman, little Aurina—guard your heart carefully.”
Aurina’s mind buzzed.
“Gah?”
She glanced at the others.
The oval-faced maiden nodded.
“You’re young, still naive. But there’s no shame in offering Richard your handkerchief, letting him fight for you. It’s pure, honorable.”
Aurina stammered, “Even you…”
“You’re just a girl,” the matron said, misreading her distress and patting her head.
“No one will think ill of you. A soulmate transcends worldly marriage.”
“Exactly,” the maiden added.
“If a knight as virtuous, gentle, and just as Richard fought for me, I’d seize the chance. You mustn’t let it slip.”
“But—”
“Be practical,” the matron cut in, her tone maternal.
“You’re a dragon, Aurina. To many, you’re a mount to be tamed, a beast to be broken. Only Richard sees you as an equal. Lean on him, earn his full support, and you’ll find your place in this world.”
Aurina didn’t understand—nor did she care to.
Her mind was elsewhere.
She slid from the matron’s embrace, her spirit deflated.
“This king understands.”
Her chest no longer puffed with pride, her tail no longer curled with vigor.
She trudged out the door.
“She’s so young,” the matron sighed.
“Was it too soon to speak of such things? Look how heartbroken she is.”
“No choice,” another replied.
“She’s leaving soon.”
“By the way, did they find the thief who stole that dressing mirror?”
“No, it’s bizarre. How does something that big just vanish?”
Aurina paid no mind to their chatter.
Their perception of her gnawed at her heart.
She reached into her mouth, pulling out a dressing mirror to study her reflection.
A gaunt, feminine face stared back—fragile arms, slender legs, a flat chest devoid of any masculine fire.
She’d believed that, despite being trapped in this frail female form, her inner dragon’s might would let her conquer any female with ease.
But they saw her as nothing more than a young girl.
At a fountain, she gripped its edge, her voice breaking in a mournful, “Gah!”
With a toss of her head, tears flew from her eyes, splashing into the water.
By noon, Richard, having sent word to the Knights of Tyr’s Hand, arrived with Aurina to pay a visit.
She perched on his shoulder, hands propping up her chin, her small face etched with sorrow.
“Look at that ship!” someone exclaimed.
What’s so special about a worm’s boat?
Aurina thought, lifting her eyelids lazily.
But there it was—a colossal vessel moored along the river beside Nabumei City.
So immense it should have run aground, yet it floated miraculously.
Its hull, crafted from the finest oak, gleamed with silver paint that caught the sun’s rays.
Intricate carvings of the Champagne Counts’ legendary deeds adorned the prow.
Colored banners and crests of the Champagne domain fluttered along the sides, dancing in the breeze.
Most striking were the sails—grand, silken, embroidered with intricate dragons, the owner’s wealth woven into every thread.
They billowed like celestial dancers, proclaiming staggering opulence.
It was a fortress on water.
A new pier stretched out, lined with red carpet, flanked by soldiers in full plate armor, halberds in hand, standing proud beneath waving flags.
Aurina’s golden eyes widened, greed glinting within.
“Twenty… twenty-eight thousand gold coins!”
Richard blinked. “Thirty thousand?”
“Just the ship,” Aurina said, rubbing her eyes.
“Its value keeps shifting. So much money…”
Behind a curtain aboard the vessel, Frostsilver’s golden eyes snapped open.
“Who dares covet my wealth?”
She muttered, a chill creeping into her voice, as though a fighter jet’s radar had locked onto her.