Chương 55: Princess Melody's Dragon's Maids

[Sunrise] sat in what was by far the most luxurious parlor any of them had ever seen, and that included Ellesea, who was a noble. The teleportation spell that brought them here had long since faded, but between the awe-inspiring feat of magic and the majestic furnishings surrounding them, they were left speechless. To be fair, they were in a palace. Jessica was the first to flop down onto a couch, mentally spent to the point of physical exhaustion.

"Jessica!" Y'cennia hissed.

"You're going to get it dirty! Sit up straight!" Jessica obliged, but only because Alastair took a seat next to her and forced her to move out of his way since she was taking up the whole couch.

"Eh, does it really matter?" she asked. She sounded defeated and apathetic.

"What's the difference between me and dirt? To the owner of this couch, we might as well be the same."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Alastair scolded.

"You do yourself a disservice."

"Did you see who that was?" Jessica asked and finally pulled herself together to stare at the rest of her team.

"That was the White Witch. If half the stories about her are true, we're less than dirt next to her."

"I'm…not sure I've heard those," Y'cennia admitted.

"You grew up in the Republic, right?" Ellesea asked, earning a nod from the catkin.

"Makes sense. You probably have your own political drama to worry about. Supposedly, she's the strongest mortal [Mage] alive."

"I heard she's not mortal," Jessica countered.

"That she likes to pretend she is, but the game is sort of up since she doesn't age. Or, or, or…I've heard she kills people, drinks their blood, and that's how she stays forever young."

"She's a witch, not a vampire," Ellesea rolled her eyes.

"And didn't you learn about her in school? Moeldywn Eutevor, the Forgotten Princess? She's the only reason the royal family is alive."

"Eh, by killing all of her enemies, maybe," Jessica shrugged.

"I dunno. Most kids at my school either played hooky or left to get apprenticeships. If they worked for their families, they could start as early as 12. Be grateful I know math."

"Oh, I am," Ellesea sighed. As if that should be considered some great achievement. Perhaps, in some places, it was, but not in any of the circles Ellesea had ever mingled in. Regardless, that didn't change the legendary status of their unexpected host. The truth was, most commoners, and probably more than a few nobles, cared much more about the current members of the ruling family than any in the past, no matter how important they might be to the kingdom… if they cared at all.

Jessica did take the rebuke to not defile the furniture seriously, though, so she stood up, made sure she wasn't dusty or leaving giant stains behind, and began surveying the room. It was, as they expected, some sort of parlor or lounge, perfect for sticking guests in an out-of-the-way location while they waited for whatever function or event they were meant to attend.

Since [Sunrise] never anticipated visiting the castle when they woke up that morning, they couldn't say they were waiting for anything specifically, though they understood that the White Witch gathered them there for a reason.

"What do you think she was talking about?" Y'cennia eventually asked.

"With all that stuff about being 'claimed by a dragon,' or becoming her extended family?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," Ellesea said calmly.

"Our titles match. We both seem to have become entangled in Melia's twisted web in our own ways. I'd want to meet any inheritors of a similar title, too, if I were the only one who had it and found out after many decades of confusion that it was drastically messing with my life."

"And isn't that the hardest part to believe?" Y'cennia countered.

"For a princess, even one of a lesser degree or one that isn't set to inherit everything, you'd almost expect a powerful dragon to leave their mark on them. It's like something out of a fairytale."

"I think the real question you're trying to ask is 'why'," Alastair stated.

"Or more specifically, 'why us.' I don't think there's an answer to that. Call it chance, if you must."

"Or fate?" Jessica asked pointedly. Alastair shrugged.

"I won't deny I can easily imagine the hands of the gods playing us like puppets. But don't mistake a divine plan for direct meddling. You and I, we might be inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but that does not mean we cannot be used. Nor does it mean all interference by the gods is inherently evil or blessed; it simply is." Alastair gave a small chuckle.

"Though I suppose it is troublesome for those involved, more often than not."

"Do you think it really changed her?" Y'cennia asked in a small voice.

"That it'll change us?" Alastair himself was full of doubt, or maybe overwhelming uncertainty, so he said nothing. Ellesea looked much more grim.

"I think we'd be fools to dismiss the possibility outright," she said.

"The touch of a powerful being should not be underestimated. Especially one capable of granting system titles. I find it a more believable explanation of the queen's miraculous magical talent and extreme longevity than vampirism."

"For one, true vampires are monsters," Alastiar added.

"I think the term for people who get turned without dying is called 'afflicted'. Sunlight doesn't instantly reduce them to ash, but they don't handle it well. Just one look at Melody in the garden should dispel that theory. And besides…the Inquisitors keep a very tight vigil over the Crimson Court. I doubt they'd let one slip under their noses for so long, especially in such a position of power."

"Yeah, but maybe that's the point?" Y'cennia asked.

"Maybe she's so strong they can't do anything about her?"

"And what?" Ellesea countered.

"They're just…covering it up? I think it's more likely the stories of the White Witch are somewhat exaggerated. Just like the Destroyer of Worlds."

"That is true," Alastair chuckled.

"I still have a hard time picturing that tiny gnome as a world-ending threat. And that's with us seeing her true form."

"Yeah," Y'cennia eventually grinned.

"You're right. Though from the way the queen was talking about it, I almost got the impression she considers dragons something like a pet. Did you see the way she had Melia draped over her shoulder? If all I saw was her fat tail, I'd think she was an overgrown lizard."

"You might not be all that wrong." The three looked across the room where Jessica had wandered over to a painting hanging on a wall. It was easy to miss since they had been teleported directly into the center of the room on top of an ornately embroidered rug that looked suspiciously like it might be some sort of spell diagram, and the first thing that caught their eyes was the couch, not the many pieces of art along the walls. The others moved closer to take a look. Jessica was right.

The painting was surprisingly large and breathtakingly detailed. It hung in an embellished gold frame, and at first glance appeared to be a landscape of a small black hill rising out of an empty field next to a single tree. Upon closer inspection, things were not exactly as they seemed. The hill, as the team knew too well, was actually a massive dragon curled up on itself like a gigantic cat, its head poking out from under a wing to stare at a table placed in the shade of the solitary tree.

At that table, only a scant few brushstrokes tall, was a masterfully crafted image of a young girl. Though most of her finer details were not visible, it was obvious to the group that the small girl in the purple dress was none other than Moeldywn as a child, sitting daintily with a tea and cake set, raising a hand fearlessly toward the giant beast. The dragon nudged her snout affectionately into the outstretched palm like a well-loved pet craving attention.

Meliastraza was not nearly as large in the painting as they had seen her in real life, or else Moeldywn wouldn't be visible at all. The artist went to great lengths to recreate an elegant tea set, including two saucers, a kettle with a slight wisp of steam rising from the spout, a three-tiered cake tray, and two plates each holding a delicate confection smothered in soft cream. A quick [Inspection] told them a little more, along with a commentary attached by an unknown [Appraiser].

[Teatime With a Dragon] Level: 0 Quality: 5 stars Crafted By: C. Melrose Only the most blessed of individuals may have their cake and eat it too.

*An impressionist depiction of Moeldywn Eutevor, fourth princess of the Eutevor kingdom, attending an exclusive tea party in her private gardens. With a dragon. The subjects were hidden for the initial request, and the artist wanted to refuse. King Philip ordered the painting regardless, threatening exile or execution, and it was eventually completed under duress, sworn to secrecy and forgotten by time.

Jessica wondered whether, if this was a real-life painting as the description suggested, Melia was actually trying to eat the princess' cake, and whether her outstretched palm was meant to keep a greedy mouth at bay. Ellesea studied the description with a mixed bag of feelings, feeling a pang of sympathy for the poor artist, though they were likely compensated handsomely.

Her estimation of their skill rose, if this was what they were able to produce while actively feeling oppressed, since the system rewarded it with a 5-star grade. Seeing the picture put the group into an interesting mood. Here, in the middle of an elegant palace with priceless, ornate furnishings, was a surreal painting of a small child socializing with a giant monster.

Knowing, as they did, that the girl in the picture was never in any danger and that the dragon in question was a sapient, if slightly bizarre creature, they began to see things in a different light. They continued surveying the room, finding the walls arrayed with many more paintings. Most of them were portraits, and nearly all of them of the same young girl.

[Princess Moeldywn Ansillica Paratina du Eutevor] Level: 0 Quality: 5 Stars Created By: C. Melrose Elegance and composure in the face of duty.

*A portrait of the youngest royal child and only daughter, at 9 years old. Commissioned to be later replicated for use in securing marriage contracts with allied lands, in the year 637, during the Age of Upheaval.

The now-familiar visage of a bored and calculating young woman stared back at them, her practiced smile hiding her inner thoughts. Small, delicate, and frail; in youth, her nearly silver platinum hair fell in great waves down her back, and her deep blue eyes already held a coldness that could freeze a temperate lake. She was beautiful, but it was as if she already knew her beauty was all her father valued, and that she was trained to use it as a weapon.

A lesson she may have used in the many years that eventually led to the creation of the White Witch. A quick glance around the room told them this was the earliest portrait, but dozens hung along the spacious room's perimeter. Moving to the next, and so forth, and so on, [Sunrise] learned that the king had portraits commissioned nearly every year for almost a decade. According to the system description, the next 8 were painted sequentially, one for every year, before they suddenly stopped.

And in every single one, the subject never changed. Yes, of course, the tiny details did. What exact dress she wore, the individual pieces of jewelry, the position of her hands and the exact angle of her posture all shifted as they ought. But the girl frozen inside of them seemed doomed to remain a child forever.

[Princess Moeldywn Ansillica Paratina du Eutevor] Level: 0 Quality: 5 Stars Created By: A. Leon Unyielding.

*A portrait of the youngest royal child and only daughter, at 17 years old. Commissioned to be later replicated for use in securing marriage contracts with allied lands, in the year 645, during the Age of Upheaval.

A stark contrast from what a seventeen-year-old should look like. And as for the system text itself… for a single word, it said so much. Moeldywn's eyes had not changed on the outside, but they now hid nearly a decade of wisdom, clarity, and a touch of defiance. They had yet to become entirely frozen over by a cold and ruthless heart, if the legends were to be believed (and [Sunrise] was not sure if they were).

The same girl, painted painstakingly by various celebrated masters, slowly watching the world go by without her. It was a sobering thought. Especially once the group reached a point much further down the timeline. For once, the young girl had a genuine, vibrant smile on her face, exuberant and radiant with joy. Her usual gown of deep purples and blues was replaced with a stunning white dress filled with delicate lace and an elegant veil. She stood next to a tall, serene young man, nestled comfortably into his side.

And yet, as ever and as always, she looked like she had aged perhaps a year, two at most, from her very first portrait.

[Queen Moeldywn Ansillica Paratina de Hestia du Eutevor and King Phillip II de Eutevor du Hestia] Level: 0 Quality: 5 Stars Created By: A. Leon A warm heart melts the frost.

*A portrait of Queen Moeldywn Eutevor as she took Duke William Hestia as her husband, whereupon he took on her name to honor her family, becoming King Philip II. Painted in the year 664 of the Eutevor Kingdom, 11 years into the Age of Peace, after the Age of Upheaval ended.

[Sunrise] stared at the painting for a long time, wrestling with many emotions. First, as with every portrait hanging on the walls, they were absolutely stunning, as if the young woman captured by the delicate strokes of a brush might escape her oil-based prison and spring forth to life. The next thought went immediately to the stark, obvious mismatch between the two subjects in the painting.

One, a right and proper noble of the empire; broad of shoulder and thin of gut, honed over a life of in-person leadership, whose receding hairline spoke to a man in whom stress aged him prematurely. He was 27 years old when he took the king's crown; Moeldywn was 37, 10 years his senior. And yet the bride could easily be mistaken for his child. How much hardship had she gone through, enduring stares, misconceptions, and belittlement?

Surely, very few people took her seriously at first glance, and the group began to understand why she crafted a persona so ruthless and cold. To protect this rare smile, which surely wasn't shown to everyone.

They were not left alone with their thoughts forever. As they were lost in thought, a soft knock from across the room rang out, causing Y'cennia to actually jump. The group quickly glanced at each other, the girls huddled a little closer together, and Alastair stood in front of them.

"Yes?" he called out uncertainly. To say he felt awkward answering a door in a palace he had no business loitering in was putting it lightly. But the person knocking on the door seemed to expect a response and turned out to be a maid checking up on them. Each of the group quickly tried [Identifying] the newcomer, but were given nothing, save the fact that the maid was higher level than all of them.

"Welcome," the woman said softly, lacking every bit of edge somebody should have if they discovered intruders in their master's chambers.

"I've been sent to inform you that dinner will be served at 5 o'clock. If you need anything, please pull the bell cord on the wall, and a member of staff will come to assist. Do not hesitate to use it, your comfort is our priority." The maid waited several moments to see if the group had any questions or concerns, but she was lucky to get a nod of acknowledgement from the terrified and bewildered adventurers. After several moments, she gave them a respectful curtsy and let herself out of the room.

"That…was a [Royal Maid]," Y'cennia eventually found her voice first.

"I didn't know they came in [Royal] variants," Jessica squeaked out. Suddenly, she was feeling very dirty and grimy, and desperately hoped she didn't just get judged by some domestic staff many ranks higher than herself.

"Of course they do," Ellesea sighed, sounding mortified and painfully aware of the fact that she was wearing day-old clothes in the middle of the summer after a morning spent riding on a gryphon.

"At least they seem to be expecting us," Alastair said. While that was a little disturbing, it was much better than the alternative of being found trespassing in a private royal residence.

"Yeah, and they're going to give us dinner, too," Jessica perked up, her hunger overcoming her brief bout of timidity. As if to prove her point, her belly growled. She blushed as she ran a hand over her stomach.

"Do you think they'll give us a place to clean up?"

"I think it's likely," Ellesea said.

"It seemed like the Queen wanted us to stay. We might even get rooms for the night."

"We should have asked the maid," Alastair groaned.

"She said to pull the bell cord? Where is it?" It only took a moment to locate the burgundy velvet rope that blended perfectly into the wall next to a small statuette of a dragon on a plinth. Alastair paused briefly to look at the dragon: it was a completely different dragon from Meliastraza. Maybe Melody simply had an affinity for dragons. Alastair tugged firmly but gently, hearing nothing but the snap of the rope as it pulled taut.

Figuring the silence was a feature rather than something broken in the mechanism, Alastair returned to his seat. The group did not have long to wait. Maybe a minute or two later, no more than five, the door opened once more. This time, the knock was perfunctory, a warning that someone was coming in, because whoever was on the other side did not wait to be admitted. Not that anybody in [Sunrise] cared… nor did they think they could stop the intruders even if they wanted. It was not the same maid as before.

Through the door, walking in a very orderly single file line, came three… giants. There was no other word for them. Some might call them maids (and they wore a servant's attire), but they'd be wrong on principle. The three women who entered were simply too big to be allowed. Larger than life. Alastair was a shade over 6 feet tall, and the shortest of the three topped him by a solid foot.

The three ladies entered silently, their footsteps not even echoing on the walls, and arrayed themselves in front of the adventurers as if reporting for duty or awaiting some sort of judgment or inspection. So [Inspect] them the group did, but it told them nothing more about the three than it did about the [Royal Maid], only that they were [Retainers]. Three [Retainers], a shapely elf, an extremely well-built human, and a tiger beastkin.

Each one held themselves with the dignity of the highest caliber of servant selected for a queen's personal staff. Backs straight, faces impassive yet attentive, and not a single wrinkle or fold to be found on their immaculate garb. … it was a little weird that the catkin's uniform was shorter than the others. And as soon as the catkin noticed them staring at her, the spell was broken. She dropped the facade of a demure servant as her eyes lit up with mischief, even as a playful smile crept over her face.

Her gaze zeroed in on Y'cennia like a predator who just found her prey. She shimmered, and fast as lightning, appeared standing directly in front of the [Alchemist], towering over her only an arm's length away.

"Oooh," she cooed playfully, bending forward to peer directly in Y'cennia's face.

"A little kitten!" Alastair may have scoffed in disbelief, but nobody heard it over Y'cennia's growl of outrage. Her tail shot out, her ears went rigid, and she hissed in defiance. Before her brain could catch up with her body, she made little claw-hands and tried swiping at the woman in front of her. The [Retainer] laughed jovially, and as if the world was moving in slow motion, she stepped along the side of Y'cennia's arm, spun behind her, and laid a single hand gently on her back.

Then, in a show of unbelievable strength for somebody who was supposed to be a maid, she picked Y'cennia up by the collar, held her out at arm's length, and placed her free hand on her hip, showing her trophy off to the world. Y'cennia instantly went limp, much like a kitten being lifted up by a mother cat, as she froze and tried rebooting her brain. After a second, she realized she was suspended in the air, mortified, as the giant woman behind her laughed without a care in the world.

"L'menia, that is quite enough," said the serene voice of the elf.

"Aww," L'menia pouted, but she set Y'cennia down gently, where she promptly felt her knees give out and sank to her butt.

"You've given our guests a bad impression of us," the giant elf scolded in her musical voice, while the human woman, still silent, simply pulled out a cast-iron frying pan. Without a second thought, she reared back her arm…and smashed the pan straight over the catkin's head with a resounding clang.

"Ouch!" L'menia cried, her hands instantly flying to her smarting head, but her tears were fake as she still smiled. It was the wrong move. The human put away the pan and pulled out a battleaxe almost as wide as Ellesea was tall. L'menia instantly sobered.

"I'll behave! I'll behave!" She stood up straight and waved her hands in front of her in surrender. The human gave a small nod and put the axe away. The elf simply shook her head.

"I apologize," she bowed respectfully to the others.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lethia, and these are my companions L'menia and Layalee. We've been instructed to make your stay as comfortable as possible." It was a bit much for [Sunrise], who all continued to stare at the giant elf in shock. Ellesea in particular gazed up at her in awe. She'd heard of the timeless beauty of the elves, but she'd never seen one up so close.

"So tall," she gasped. The woman stood more than head and shoulders above Alastair; she had to be close to double Ellesea's height. She never felt so small before, not even amidst some of the beefiest brawlers in the guild. Was this how Melia felt all the time when looking up at them?

"Have you never met an elf before?" L'menia asked curiously, to which Layalee simply retrieved her battleaxe.

"I haven't done anything!"

"Insurance," the muscular human said in a high-pitched voice that did not match her stature at all. Jessica finally came to her senses and said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Why does the queen have giant maids?" Maybe it wasn't her senses she'd come to. Lethia gave a small laugh.

"Technically, she does not," she replied serenely.

"Right?!" L'menia said energetically.

"We're [Retainers]!" The strong and silent Layalee placed a hand calmly on L'menia's shoulder, causing her to still. The elf shook her head.

"We are in the service of Lady Meliastraza Obsidianheart. It has come to our attention that you four have been added to the hoard. It is now our pleasure to serve you, as well, for many years to come." The true impact of Lethia's words did not fully sink in, but one thing above all else registered in Jessica's brain. She turned to Al, stars in her eyes, and pumped her fist.

"Hot damn! I think we just got a huge life upgrade!" For the next hour, [Sunrise] found themselves at the mercy of Melia's [Retainers]. Ellesea was more prepared for it than the others, since her family had servants of their own, but none of them were used to being waited on hand and foot.

Alastair, mercifully, did not suffer nearly as much fussing as the girls, since he was a man, but even he was subjected to turning around, on occasion, only to find a gigantic figure standing like a statue, waiting for instruction. The girls had it worse: after being shown to their rooms, they were promptly taken to the baths to be cleaned. If nothing else could be said, the dragon's maids were very thorough.

After being pampered in a soaking pool larger than her original bedroom, Jessica joined Ellesea for a deep-reaching massage, with a scented oil rubdown that turned her body into jelly. They stumbled into the dining hall on wobbly legs, eyes already half closed as they struggled to stay awake. Once they arrived at the table, steaming dishes of delectable meats were placed before them. Barely able to restrain himself from slamming his face into his plate and inhaling his food, Alastair checked on the others.

There were only three settings; one member was missing. Before he could voice his concern, his question was answered. Y'cennia was so thoroughly pampered that she fell fast asleep.