“Another Princess popped up?” Ailaira Green shifted her gaze to Andrea, who sat beside her in stunned silence. “Do you know her?”
Andrea looked even more bewildered than Ailaira. Swallowing the food stuffed in her mouth, she searched her memory again and again.
“There’s no such person. Since when did the Dragon Clan have a Princess?”
If that really is her identity, I should’ve run into her back when I escaped from Dragon Valley. So why don’t I have any impression at all?
Hearing the dragon in question explain, Yukla also began to doubt if she had gotten her intel wrong. She hesitated, glancing at Ailaira as she muttered in a low voice, “This Visiting Delegation is supposedly headed by this Dragon Clan Princess. Doesn’t seem like a fake identity—otherwise, how could she command the others?”
“Then there’s only one possibility: she’s beaten every dragon of her generation into submission.”
Andrea seemed to recall some internal rules of the Dragon Clan, and quickly added, “The Dragon Clan isn’t like you humans, with clear ideas about mates and children. As long as an individual matures enough to reach adulthood, they can breed.”
“And the process is simple: if two dragons fancy each other, they can just find a cave and start digging. Afterwards, if the female lays dragon eggs, they’re handed over to the Hatchery to be cared for together. After all, newborn hatchlings inherit memories, and the Elders will record the names of their biological parents based on the hatchlings’ descriptions. But it’s just tradition; your rank isn’t actually determined by your lineage.”
“In Dragon Valley, wanting to climb high takes more than just a high concentration of bloodline. You have to be strong enough, too. The current Dragon King got to his seat only by singlehandedly subduing every dragon in Dragon Valley. Only then could he sit at the Court and issue commands.”
Saying this, Andrea stabbed her fork fiercely into a juicy sausage and gnawed at it with an air of gloom, venting her frustration as she grumbled, “So the same goes for this Princess. Only if she managed to defeat all her peers without the old guys interfering could she call herself Princess.”
As Andrea described this, Yukla was busy taking notes—information like this never circulated among humans.
Perhaps The Church’s ancient texts held some record. Ailaira, slicing her bacon carefully and chewing slowly, then asked,
“So, did you ever fight her?”
Andrea shrugged and laughed self-deprecatingly.
“Me? I doubt many even know I’m a dragon at all. When I escaped during a security lapse, I did ambush a few young dragons, but none of them could’ve become Princess material. Someone on that level wouldn’t have been knocked out by me sneaking up on them!”
“Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for a flag.”
Ailaira had a nagging feeling that this Dragon Clan Princess was up to no good.
After all, Dragon Valley had been shut off for years; she’d only ever seen Andrea as a lone dragon wandering the outside world. Now they’d suddenly sent a Princess to human territory, claiming it was a visit—who’d believe that?
Those big shots probably thought the same, which was why only someone on the Saintess’ level could keep things under control.
If she guessed right, the City Lord of this border city must be tearing his hair out by now.
Meanwhile, in the City Hall, the weary City Lord sat at the meeting table, listening to his advisors squabble and sighing endlessly.
“If you ask me, just shove them into The Church’s Teleportation Formation and send them to the Royal Capital. We shouldn’t even touch this hot potato!”
“We don’t have a Teleportation Formation in our city, and the Royal Capital specifically named us to host them. They’re afraid there’s something fishy in the Visiting Delegation, worried it might threaten the Royal Capital’s safety.”
“They’re worried about the Royal Capital but not us? Those visitors are all young elites from various races—and there’s even a Dragon Clan Princess! Who knows what rank she’s reached! How can our City Lord, only fifth-rank, suppress that?”
The City Lord, who’d just been named, could only grimace and resist the urge to throw his troublesome subordinates out.
He rapped on the table, signaling for silence. Pinning his hopes on outside support, he asked, “Haven’t you figured out the delegation’s strength distribution?”
An aide, clutching papers filled with information, handed them over with a headache.
“The one with the highest rank on the surface is the Dragon Clan Princess, only fifth-rank. The rest from other races are around fourth-rank.”
“But according to our spies, there’s been infighting in the delegation, and the Princess’s true strength is definitely above fifth-rank. Her limit…unknown.”
The City Lord tossed the report onto the table, massaging his throbbing forehead. “What about support from the Royal Capital?”
“The Church can’t spare anyone because of the Saintess’ Apostasy, and the royal family has drawn away most manpower because the King launched another War on the Northernmost Lands. Anyone who could solve this mess is tied up.”
The City Lord sighed again, leaning back to stare up at the ceiling mural as he muttered irritably, “Fight, fight, fight—fighting those Demons all day only gets us more land that needs purifying. What’s the point? And in the end, they still can’t lift the Curse of the Princess.”
“Maybe the King’s in a bad mood because the Princess ran away again. Everyone in the Kingdom knows: when the King’s upset, he likes to take his confidants to the Demons’ territory to blow off steam.”
They called it launching a War, but really, it was just the King and a dozen experts going on a campaign—and most of the time those experts just stood by to keep Verlendel IX from getting carried away and refusing to come home.
It only lasted about half a month, and with The Church holding the fort, the Kingdom was usually peaceful. This time, it was only because the Visiting Delegation came on short notice and all sorts of mishaps happened that the responsibility fell on their heads.
“No, maybe those damned foreigners chose this timing on purpose to form their Visiting Delegation. I even suspect the Saintess incident is—”
The City Lord waved a hand to cut off his subordinate’s speculation, frowning. “Let’s not jump to baseless conclusions. Investigation is The Church’s business.
We just need to think about how to entertain these ‘honored guests’ until someone can come and take over.”
“City Lord, someone is here to see you.”
“At this hour? Let them in.”
The City Lord looked up toward the doors of the Meeting Hall, just as a young girl in a Housekeeper’s uniform knocked and entered. She bowed respectfully to the City Lord and greeted him politely, “Good day, City Lord.”
He recognized her—she was often seen following Ailaira Green around. If she had come directly, could it be—
“Did Miss Green send you?”
“Indeed. My lady is aware of your current predicament and specially sent me to ease your troubles.” Jody smiled calmly.
Even with all the city’s most powerful figures gathered in this Meeting Hall, she showed no sign of nervousness or disrespect, her tone even as she continued:
“My lady says, if the City Lord doesn’t know how to arrange things, her home is large, and there’s plenty of room.”
The City Lord’s fingers stopped drumming on the table. He regarded Jody warily, as if trying to see through her to the one behind the scenes.
“Miss Green’s kindness is appreciated, but there’s really no need. My City Hall isn’t staffed by incompetents.”
“My lady says you can report this to the royal family and The Church. They’ll approve.”
“Why?”
Jody’s smile grew, her chest puffing up a little with pride. Even her voice now carried a touch of arrogance.
“It’s simple: because none of you here, together with the entire Visiting Delegation, are a match for my lady.”
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