Chapter 114

Gasping, Elise jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. Sweat plastered her forehead. She’d perspired so much during the night that a chill ran through her. Instinctively, she burrowed deeper under the covers, the remnants of her dream clinging to her.

Andrei’s horrified murmur echoed in her ears: “You… you’re not pregnant, are you?”

Pregnant? The color drained from Elise’s face. Freya’s words came rushing back: dragonkin fetuses absorbed their mother’s magic power to grow. Could that be why her magic kept retreating whenever she tried to use it?

“No,” she whispered, instinctively placing a hand on her flat stomach. “No, I checked before leaving. It’s not possible…”

Elise hugged herself tightly, burying her head in the pillow, a desperate denial forming in her chest. Though a pit had formed in her stomach at Andrei’s words, a memory surfaced – her period last month. Brief, yes, but there were definitely bloodstains. Her periods had always been irregular, so a faint stain wasn’t unusual. Besides, Freya had even shaken her head solemnly the next day.

Recalling these details two or three times, a wave of calm washed over her. Yes, she thought, it can’t be pregnancy. There must be something else wrong with me. There had to be another explanation. Her missing magic – it had to be because of that dragon constantly at her side. It had to be.

Three days had passed in Koseratie, and Elise felt a renewed surge of strength. Idling was no longer an option. She brushed aside the unsettling thoughts lingering from her dream and rose with purpose.

The dragon, perched by the window gazing out at the scenery, drew her attention. “Becky,” Elise called, “we need to prepare for departure.”

“Naturally,” the dragon replied promptly, almost as if it had been anticipating her words. “Our destination is Norella in the east, where we can catch a ship.”

“The only port in Norella that dispatches trade ships south is Latium Harbor,” the dragon continued, seamlessly channeling Ivetsa’s knowledge. “They depart monthly, with the next voyage in fifteen days. If we leave today, we’ll arrive just in time.”

The dragon’s ability to access and mimic human memories was undeniable. Over the past few days, its impersonation of Ivetsa had grown increasingly convincing. Information that only Ivetsa possessed now flowed flawlessly from its lips.

“Ready to leave, then?” the dragon inquired, its voice adopting a subtle hint of Ivetsa’s inflection.

Elise hesitated, a flicker of anxiety crossing her features. “…No,” she finally said, shaking her head. “If you’re here, then a detour through the east is unnecessary. You could take me directly to Regal.”

The dragon’s eyes widened in a mock display of innocence. “Me? What magical capability do I possess?” It was infuriating. This creature, practically the wellspring of all magic, could whisk her to Andrei with a mere gesture, yet it feigned ignorance.

The dragon’s sly smile sent shivers down Elise’s spine. “Of course,” it drawled, “if I’m feeling particularly cooperative, I might exert a little more effort.”

The subtext was clear: cooperation was a two-way street. Without getting what it desired, it seemed content to simply play maid.

‘What does it want from me?’ Elise thought, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. ‘Does it expect me to play some lover’s role, like Gallian?’

While she knew the founding myths by heart, Gallian had lived seven hundred years ago. Historical records offered little glimpse into the man himself. With no idea what qualities Sameshita had loved in him, Elise couldn’t mimic the man even if she wanted to.

A few days of rest had seemingly tempered her desperation. Unlike her initial blind determination to reach the south at any cost, Elise wouldn’t embrace or kiss the dragon for the world, even under threat of death. She’d never even kissed her own husband! Such an act would be a last resort, a desperate measure for a truly dire situation.

“So, you’re essentially saying you’d stand idly by if I were in danger?”

“I would, of course, offer what protection I can, though my abilities are admittedly limited,” the dragon replied, its tone feigning humility.

“Shut up! My Ivetsa wouldn’t speak in such a way!” Elise snapped, her frustration flaring at the dragon’s duplicity. How infuriating to feel such annoyance directed at the very face of the gentle and kind Ivetsa it mimicked!

“A useless maid is hardly what I need,” Elise snapped coldly, her anger simmering. “If you intend to be both rude and voyeuristic while I sleep, then by all means, hire some mercenaries on your way out. I refuse to travel east alone with an incompetent servant.”

Despite the harsh words, her frustration remained unabated. Rezette’s old curses flickered through her mind, tempting her tongue.

Taking a deep breath, she lashed out with a newfound conviction, “If you understand, then get lost!”

Utterling such harsh words for the first time felt strangely liberating.

Shortly after, the dragon found itself unceremoniously ejected from the inn, a secret chuckle escaping its lips. As per Elise’s orders, it was off to find mercenaries to escort them to Norella.

This was, after all, the first time it had observed a human female this intimately. And what it had witnessed was undeniably intriguing. Given Gallian’s human form, it had initially focused its observations solely on the male twin. Now, it seemed the opposite might be the key. The way Elise’s gentle eyes hardened with anger – that mirrored a flicker of its disciple’s spirit.

However, the young man in its faded memories possessed a slyness and mischievousness that this woman lacked. The dragon vividly recalled the transformation – a naive pup, utterly lacking in awareness, maturing into a self-assured watchdog, albeit one masking its youth with a facade of maturity.

The captivating smile that had ensnared even an ancient dragon like itself remained elusive. It hadn’t yet witnessed that expression on Elizabeth’s face. Perhaps a glimpse of that smile would offer clarity. Perhaps a little longer of observation was necessary.

The decision was swift. Letting go of something so precious to someone so close – someone who had approached with terrifying speed – seemed a monumental waste.

Sameshita, casting a long look over the inn thrumming with its magic, raised a hand. With a subtle gesture, as if wiping away dust, the traces of its magic on the inn vanished. The vast magical footprint it had left behind dissolved bit by bit, leaving no evidence of its presence.

This grows more intriguing, Sameshita thought.

Having completed its task, Becky, now human in form, hummed a jaunty tune as it strolled towards the market with a light step.

***

A jolt of realization struck Rezette like lightning. His brow furrowed deeply as he stared intently into the void. Gone. He could no longer track them based on his senses and instincts alone. The faint magical signature of the dragon, which had lingered in the air moments ago, had vanished like a phantom.

Clearly, the dragon was aware of his pursuit and had deliberately erased its trail. The last trace of Sameshita’s magic had been detected in Koseratie, a small, autonomous city nestled between Rotiara and Norella.

Rezette wasted no time. Rotiaran soldiers, led by Ruben Diark, flooded the city walls. Alarmed by the sight of armed knights in broad daylight, ordinary citizens scattered in panicked screams.

The knights meticulously gathered information about unidentified women who had recently stayed in or passed through Koseratie. Innkeepers were subjected to questioning as well, but the search yielded minimal results.

Several fruitless hours later, a glimmer of hope emerged from an unexpected source. The owner of a bustling market tavern timidly raised his hand. “Two days ago,” he stammered, “a young woman came looking to hire mercenaries.”

“Mercenaries?” 

Rezette’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The trembling old man elaborated, “Yes, it just so happened I knew a band of mercenaries passing through Koseratie. I put her in touch with them. Many travelers hire escorts to cross the mountains, so I didn’t think anything of it…”

“How many? How large was the group?” Rezette pressed.

“Oh, I believe there were three or four. Maybe even five…?”

“Their genders? Were they all men?” Rezette cut in, his frustration mounting.

The slow-on-the-uptake man blinked. “Yes, of course. Most mercenaries are men… Except for one. The youngest was a girl. The others were an older leader grieving his wife, a bachelor kicked out by his family, and a young fellow with a fondness for coin…” He hiccupped under Rezette’s withering gaze.

An icy silence descended. The old man cast a desperate look at Ruben and Isaac, but they too were sweating profusely, their mouths clamped shut. Why in the world would the princess do this?

Rezette’s despair deepened with each new detail. Every clue he uncovered felt like walking on hot coals, offering no solace, only growing dread.