The moment the pair stepped into the grand banquet hall, a ripple of anticipation stirred the air.
Aurina, with her disarming charm, glided toward the table of ladies, her innocent, radiant face instantly captivating them.
Her presence was like a spark in dry grass, igniting giggles and warm smiles from the noblewomen and maidens alike.
“…And then, clippity-cloppity-clop!”
Aurina sprawled across the lap of a gracious lady, her tail swaying and tapping the table in a playful mimicry of hoofbeats.
“I looked up, and there was my loyal steed—Richard, of course!”
She paused, tilting her head to gaze at the lady whose lap she’d claimed as her pillow.
The woman wore a goose-yellow gown, its bodice accentuating her generous curves.
Her hand, poised with a spoon over her plate, had long since stilled, while two young noblewomen leaned closer, hanging on Aurina’s every word.
After a moment, the buxom lady prompted, “And then what happened?”
“This dragon’s belly is rumbling!”
Aurina declared with a pout.
“A dragon needs meat to recover her strength.”
“How can we let a child go hungry? Quick, Sophia! Tell the cooks to roast a hearty cut of meat and bring it here at once!”
A lovely maiden with an oval face, either out of shyness or restraint, sat nearby, her eyes stealing glances at the scene.
Aurina’s sharp senses caught her curiosity.
Propping up her legs, she chirped, “Dear sister, my feet are all tingly—could you lend me your lap to rest them?”
The oval-faced maiden nodded with poised grace, her beauty luminous, her skin fair with a rosy flush, her neck as elegant as a swan’s.
She was a focal point of the young knights’ admiring gazes, her silk-gloved hands adjusting her chair as she slid closer.
Aurina, without hesitation, draped her legs across the maiden’s lap.
“You’re barefoot?” the maiden asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“Aren’t they dirty?”
“Because I’m a true dragon!”
Aurina wiggled her toes, revealing soles as pristine as fresh snow.
The ladies and maidens crowded around, their curiosity piqued by her flawless feet.
“So clean, like porcelain from some far-off Eastern land,” one remarked.
“Not a speck of dust!” another marveled.
Even the reserved oval-faced maiden couldn’t resist.
“Is this some kind of magic?”
“Because I’m a dragon!”
Aurina grinned, nudging her foot closer.
“Want to give them a pinch?”
The maiden hesitated, then reached out, her gloved fingers gently squeezing Aurina’s foot.
From a distance, a young noble boy tugged at the skirt of an elderly woman with silver-streaked hair.
“Grandmother Mary, look! She’s got her feet on the table!”
“Mind your manners and eat your meal,” Lady Mary scolded.
“But last time, you had the servants spank me for that! Why can she do it and not me?”
“You’re not a dragon,” came the curt reply.
The boy whimpered, sulking over his plate, sneaking glances at his stern grandmother, whose cloudy old eyes sparkled as she watched Aurina.
Meanwhile, Aurina had become the heart of the gathering, drawing an ever-widening circle of admirers.
Soon, nearly every lady and maiden in the hall had flocked to her side.
She graciously allowed them to pinch her cheeks, framing it as a rare privilege, and the women, far from minding, took turns circling her with delighted laughter.
Reclining on a fresh lap-pillow, Aurina praised the beauty of her new “throne,” coaxing more giggles, while her tail playfully shifted from one lady’s embrace to another’s.
“Your tail is so strong, and the scales are so smooth!” one exclaimed.
“Your horns are like polished ivory!” another cooed.
Aurina, mid-bite, devoured half a roast chicken, her cheeks puffing out comically.
The buxom lady stomped her foot like a giddy girl.
“If only my children could eat with such gusto!”
“Madam,” Aurina said, reaching through the lady’s ample décolletage to tweak her chin, “are you even twenty yet?”
The lady laughed.
“I’m twenty-two, dear, and a mother of two.”
“If you’d borne dragonkin, they’d surely inherit my magnificence.”
The lady sighed.
“If only they had a tenth of your charm.”
Aurina’s thoughts drifted to her own barren state, her youthful face clouding with a sigh.
“If only my dragonhood remained, I could’ve sown dragonseed to ease your regrets. Such a pity.”
The ladies stifled their laughter behind delicate handkerchiefs, their mirth echoing across the hall.
On the other side of the room, young knights sat at their table, casting envious glances at the cluster of beauties surrounding Aurina.
“All the lovely maidens and ladies are gathered at one table,” one grumbled.
“Should we still teach that Richard fellow a lesson?”
“What’s the point of winning?” another knight sighed.
“They wouldn’t spare us a glance.”
The knights had planned to humble Richard, to prove the man lauded by the ladies was nothing special.
But with the women’s attention so thoroughly captured, their motivation fizzled.
“Dragons sure are popular,” Richard remarked from nearby.
“I was worried she’d be shunned.”
“She’s just a child—sweet-tongued, pretty, and adorable,” a broad-nosed knight said.
“Goddess bless, but they should pay more mind to valiant knights, even if it’s just that dragon-slaying hero who drowned a princess in a privy.”
“Eating here, and you bring up something so vile?” an eagle-nosed knight snapped.
“Best not mention it,” Richard said evenly.
“Ended up with fifty thousand gold in debt—awkward for everyone.”
“Stranger, you are…?”
The broad-nosed knight turned, his eyes catching the smith’s mark on Richard’s gleaming armor.
“Is that… Big Hammer of Nuremberg’s work?”
Another knight whipped around.
“What? Master Big Hammer’s craftsmanship?”
“Indeed,” Richard confirmed.
“Forged by Nuremberg’s own Big Hammer.”
“Let me see!”
The broad-nosed knight leaned in, running his hand over the armor.
“Not a trace of rust. Could it be eternal steel?”
A gasp rippled through the group.
“Eternal steel—tough, unyielding, and never rusts. A suit for generations!”
The eagle-nosed knight leaned closer.
“How much did this custom piece cost?”
“Big Hammer swore he’d never forge eternal steel, no matter the price,” the broad-nosed knight said, pinching the armor’s edge.
“Twice as thick as standard plate, am I right?”
“Spot on,” Richard replied.
“Big Hammer’s skill is unmatched, but he loathes eternal steel—it’s too stubborn to shape. He only takes single-layer commissions, never multi-layered ones.”
“So this is a fake?”
“Fake?” the broad-nosed knight scoffed.
“This craftsmanship screams Big Hammer. If I owned this, I’d gild the edges, not leave it so plain.”
“He owed me a favor,” Richard said.
“And since I was off to challenge a dragon, he grumbled but forged this to keep me alive.”
“Challenge a dragon?”
The broad-nosed knight studied Richard.
“You wouldn’t be…?”
“Richard.”
An awkward silence fell.
“It’s stuffy in here,” Richard said, unfazed by their earlier jibes.
“Since everyone’s fawning over my dragon, I don’t need to worry about her. Shall we step outside for a spar—on horseback or hand-to-hand?”
A knight with a sly grin piped up.
“If you lose, your armor’s the prize. How’s that?”
Richard chuckled.
“Deal.”
They strode out to the manor’s training yard, clashing in full armor.
None could best Richard.
Afterward, the knight who’d proposed the bet unbuckled his belt and sword, offering them as spoils.
Richard waved them off with a smile, and they settled down to drink—Richard with well water, the knights unbothered.
They tossed axes in a lively game, laughing into the evening.
Back in the hall, the young maidens grumbled that the knights had been oddly absent, their enthusiasm lackluster.
By dusk, someone gifted Richard a warhorse.
Learning of his fifty-thousand-gold debt, the knights brainstormed ways to honorably amass coin.
One mentioned a count plagued by a false dragon, rumored to be a descendant of the Dread Dragon.
True or not, any red-scaled, dragon-blooded beast was presumed kin to that ancient terror.
The count had promised land to any noble-born soul who could slay the beast.
The knights, eager for fame and a chance to escape landless status, rallied.
Richard, needing funds, was promised a share of the reward.
With a mage, a cleric, and a handful of retainers, they formed a plan.
That night, Richard and Aurina stayed at the host’s manor.
Days later, a small band of young knights, dubbing themselves the “Knights of Chivalry,” swore to rid the land of the false dragon.
Within half a month, they returned triumphant, their names ringing with renown.
One lucky knight, now a landed lord, rushed home to recruit settlers and rebuild.
Richard earned a handsome reward, and the knights planned to formalize their order, touring the realm for fame and fortune.
But their success was short-lived.
A royal messenger, flanked by attendants, sought Richard and tossed him a letter with a haughty command: “Defy or obey.”
“What’s this?”
Aurina, roused from her nap atop a pile of gold coins, snatched the letter from the floor.
Richard noted the sender: “The Invincible Sun-Chosen Emperor.”
He didn’t reclaim the letter.
Aurina scanned it, muttering, “…Yanting Empire… some puny insect nation… demands you repay your debt…”
“Impossible,” Richard said.
“The deadline’s far off.”
“…Because you tried to place divine law above secular law… killed a noble and his kin…”
Aurina’s mind stalled.
“What’s this nonsense?”
Richard took the letter, piecing together the tangled web.
After minutes of unraveling, he explained, “The emperor’s mother was a countess, her stepfather a duke. The duke’s first wife’s cousin married a marquis, whose grandfather’s sister was cousin to the great-grandfather of the knight I killed.”
Aurina stared, eyes glazed.
“Legally, it’s a stretch, but he has a case to defend secular law and noble rights,” Richard said.
“If I don’t clear the debt early or surrender you, the empire will declare war on the Knights of Tyr’s Hand.”
“Gah?”
Aurina snapped awake.
“So they’re picking a fight? Let’s just kill him!”
Richard shook his head.
“That’d make me no better than a criminal. I must go to the capital and negotiate—his demand, and mine. If I prove the man I killed was a sinner and I had judgment rights, I’ll win support. Even if he resorts to force, we’ll stand a chance.”
“Gah?”
Aurina huffed.
“You’re so dense. Kill him, and poof—no debt! My genius saves you fifty thousand gold. I’ll generously charge you forty-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine. Deal?”
“No,” Richard said.
“That’d isolate me. Humans are social creatures. And I swore an oath—breaking it makes a paladin no better than a stray dog.”
“Is that why you’re marching into his lair?”
Aurina asked.
Footsteps echoed.
A servant rushed in.
“Lord Richard! The Countess of Champagne has sent a messenger. She demands to meet you by the river.”
“Perfect,” Richard said.
“She’s insufferably proud, but if she backs me, our odds soar.”
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