“When Aurina hatched from her dragon egg,” Richard began, his voice low and deliberate, “she emerged bare as the day she was born and came straight for me. From that angle… well, I saw everything.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Quite the surprise, I imagine.”
“Exactly!”
Aurina chimed in, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her golden eyes, her chest pressed playfully against Sophia’s as she nodded vigorously.
“The mightiest little bug didn’t even flinch! So, tell me, where did your eyes dart to first?”
“I reacted just fine,” Richard countered, his voice steady.
“I threw my cloak over Aurina to cover her up.”
Sophia’s lips twitched, her gaze darkening slightly.
“So, the cloak I embroidered with gold thread by hand… you just gave it to Aurina?”
“Such generosity!”
Aurina grinned, pulling the cloak from her mouth with a flourish and draping it over her shoulders.
“Thank you for the gift, little bug. This king is most pleased.”
Sophia’s expression grew stormier.
Richard’s hand twitched, an odd itch crawling under his skin.
He clenched his fist, the leather of his glove creaking as it tightened.
Why was his hand so itchy?
“I did try to take the cloak back,” he said, glancing at Sophia.
“But she wouldn’t let it go. You know how dragons are—greedy for anything they can claim.”
Sophia’s face softened, just a fraction.
“Once it’s in my mouth, it’s mine!”
Aurina declared, her voice ringing with triumph.
“That includes your coin purse, by the way.”
“Coin purse?”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp.
“Don’t tell me… the one I gave you to buy clothes when we first met?”
Richard’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, then admitted, “Yes.”
“Take off your helmet,” Sophia said, her voice cold.
Richard obeyed, removing the helm.
Without warning, Sophia’s hand flashed out, delivering a stinging slap across his cheek.
The crack echoed in the room.
Aurina startled, nearly leaping out of her skin, her wide eyes flicking to the longsword at Richard’s waist.
This was the mightiest little bug, after all—such an insult!
Could Sophia withstand even a single Sacred Slash?
That fine chest of hers might not survive the encounter.
But to Aurina’s shock, Richard didn’t move.
Sophia, without a backward glance, wiped at her eyes and stormed out, her voice trembling.
“Don’t follow me. I need to be alone.”
With her warm, reliable presence gone, Aurina flashed Richard an awkward smile, half-expecting the mightiest little bug to unleash his violent authority.
Mother Raya spoke up, her voice gentle but firm.
“Go after her, Richard. The girl’s heart is breaking for you. You should comfort her.”
“What?”
Aurina blinked, tilting her head.
“Mother Raya, are you really his mother?”
“I took him in,” Raya said kindly, her eyes soft as she looked at Aurina.
“Found him in a wooden basin, floating down the river.”
“My birth parents were decent enough,” Richard added, his tone matter-of-fact.
“Most abandoned children get tossed in the river without so much as a basin.”
Instead of chasing Sophia, he donned his helmet again.
“Let’s move on. Aurina, were you here to kidnap Mother Raya?”
“No way!”
Aurina scoffed.
“With my wisdom, I’d never mistake an assassin for your family. Clearly, I was just playing along!”
The domain of truth remained unchanged, steady as ever.
Richard bowed slightly to Aurina.
“My apologies. I misunderstood you. Thank you.”
“Gah!”
Aurina’s eyebrows shot up as she grinned.
“Fine, this king will forgive you. From now on, you’ll serve as my loyal beast!”
“Can I make a different request?”
Richard asked, his voice tinged with caution.
“My fiancée might get the wrong idea.”
“Gah?”
Aurina’s grin faded, her hands planting on her hips.
“As my beast, your job is to obey this king! What does your fiancée have to do with it?”
“No,” Richard said firmly.
“There are already rumors calling me a child-lover.”
Mother Raya chimed in, her tone gentle but admonishing.
“Aurina, you’re still young and don’t understand these things. Richard’s heart is true, but he’s a man with a fiancée.”
“Gah! The mightiest little bug, afraid of a female?”
Aurina huffed, sparks flying from her nostrils.
“I’m going to have a word with this fiancée of yours.”
With that, she spun on her heel, tail swishing as she strode over a fallen body toward the door.
To ride a proper beast, one had to put in the work.
The mightiest little bug was still just a bug—no match for a true dragon like her.
Behind her, Mother Raya’s voice called out, “Richard, I know you feel wronged, but you pursued her. She’s been by your side all this time, never complaining—not about your flaws, not about your wealth.”
“Don’t waste her youth. Find a chance to apologize properly.”
Aurina shut the wooden door, a strange pang of disappointment settling in her chest.
The mightiest little bug, who’d once bested her—by luck, by numbers, and while her foreclaw was numb from sleep—was still the mightiest.
Yet, in the face of a female, he seemed so… weak. She’d never imagined it.
In the courtyard, a group of orphans with congenital disabilities swarmed around her, their voices bright with curiosity.
“What happened?” they asked.
Aurina plucked the grass-woven crown from her head and placed it on a boy with a cleft lip.
She cleared her throat, her voice commanding.
“Listen well, for this king will tell you how it went!”
With a flourish, she launched into a vivid tale, her tail swishing and hands gesturing wildly as she recounted her heroic deeds.
The orphans gazed at her, their eyes wide with awe, as if staring into a starlit sky filled with endless, thrilling legends.
Through Aurina’s words and gestures, they glimpsed a world of wonder.
Aurina was so caught up in her storytelling that she nearly forgot about convincing Sophia.
The orphans, enthralled, began to echo her energy.
“So cool!”
“Aurina!”
“Call me Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty Aurina is so amazing!”
One orphan, his leg shorter than the other, sighed wistfully.
“If I’d been brave enough to open that door earlier, I could’ve seen Your Majesty leap over the wall. Even if I’d died, it would’ve been worth it!”
“Children,” Sophia’s voice cut through, calm but firm as she appeared with her tower shield in hand.
“Those legendary battles? Better to hear them than see them. Better to see them than live them. They’re terrifying and bloody.”
“Sophia, big sister!”
Aurina’s face lit up as she raised her hands, weaving through the crowd of orphans to throw herself at Sophia.
“I was just looking for you!”
Aurina seemed to carry a light of her own, blooming like a rose among weeds.
To Sophia, this rose didn’t scorn the weeds around her.
She’d seen plenty of beautiful children, their innocence not yet tempered by society’s rules, who wore their malice and disdain for disabled orphans openly, without the veneer of politeness or hypocrisy.
Their cruelty was so blatant it made one long for the pretense of kindness.
But Aurina was different, like a little angel.
Sophia was certain those bright golden eyes held no contempt for the orphans.
Aurina grabbed Sophia’s hand, and if not for the tower shield between them, she might’ve playfully weighed Sophia’s chest with both hands.
Sophia smiled, her earlier gloom dissipating.
“You really get along with them, Aurina.”
“Get along?”
Aurina tilted her head, puzzled.
“Is that special?”
“Most people see them as monsters.”
The orphans crowded closer, calling Sophia’s name with joy.
They knew she wouldn’t throw stones or order a carriage to run them over.
Aurina didn’t care much for Sophia’s inexplicable fondness.
As the ten-time champion red dragon, she was used to winning female admiration.
What Sophia didn’t know was that Aurina saw all humans as mere bugs crawling on the ground.
Missing a limb, having a shorter claw—what difference did it make?
Perhaps only in taste.
Except for Richard.
He was the mightiest bug.
“Big sister Sophia,” Aurina said bluntly, “I want to ride Richard.”
Sophia’s smile froze.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Richard listens to you,” Aurina explained.
“I can’t beat him, but I want to ride on his head. He used to bow to my majesty, but now… ugh.”
She mimicked Richard’s sigh.
“That’s not my business,” Sophia said, her voice tight.
“It’s his choice. You’re just a child—”
“You’re jealous,” Aurina interrupted, her tone matter-of-fact.
“I know. I heard the other bugs chattering. You and Richard care about such silly things.”
Sophia’s face flushed crimson.
Under Aurina’s candid gaze, she turned away, feeling oddly exposed.
The orphans, unaware of the full context, saw only a brave girl who wanted to ride Richard for fun, and Sophia denying her.
To them, it was as serious as being refused a toy.
“Big sister Sophia, let her play!”
“Yeah, let her ride him!”
“Come on, please!”
Amid the chorus of young voices, Sophia sighed.
“I was going to say it’s improper. But you’re right, Aurina.”
She met Aurina’s “innocent” golden eyes, where adults often saw pure honesty.
Sometimes, a child’s words carried surprising weight.
In those clear eyes, Sophia’s jealousy and pettiness stood out like a fly’s corpse on a porcelain plate.
She hadn’t realized an ancient, wicked dragon lurked beneath that youthful exterior.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia said.
“You can ride Richard, as long as he agrees. I shouldn’t let rumors cloud my trust in him.”
“Go tell him!”
Aurina grabbed Sophia’s hand, dragging her toward the stone house.
A quarter of an hour later, in a cluttered storeroom of the orphanage, two surviving assassins stared unblinkingly at the trio—Richard, Sophia, and the dragon.
Their gazes were resolute, as if whips and branding irons were mere dogtail grass and butter.
Richard, fingers interlaced and propping up his chin, said, “So… that’s why Aurina’s riding on my shoulders?”
Sophia looked away.
Aurina, perched triumphantly on Richard’s shoulders, her white-stockinged legs dangling over his chest, leaned forward with an imperious air.
“Speak!” she demanded, tapping his helmet.
“Any treasure? Where’s it hidden? Got family? How much ransom can they pay?”