Lesson 3: Every dragon needs a lesson in trying to be princessy. And then… no… haa…
—
The kingdom of Aurelmont was doing its absolute best not to panic.
This was difficult, because there was a dragon in the mountains.
Not a hypothetical dragon.
A real one.
A very large one.
And, according to the increasingly frantic reports passing through the capital, a very picky one.
Diana stood with Nagisa on a white stone balcony overlooking the city below and watched the panic try, and fail, to disguise itself as civic order.
The streets were still full.
Market stalls still sold fruit and bread and bolts of cloth.
Knights still marched in patrols.
But everywhere Diana looked, she could see the tension.
Offerings had been piled at every shrine in the district.
The blacksmith quarter was overrun with soldiers demanding spearheads and arrow tips.
A wagon full of sheep rolled nervously toward the western gate under double guard.
And in the square below, two men were nearly shouting each other into apoplexy over whether the kingdom should send tribute to the dragon or put together another hunting party.
"That one has a point," Diana said, pointing to the man advocating tribute.
"The other one also has a point," Nagisa replied.
Diana frowned. "But the points contradict each other!"
"Welcome to politics."
Diana ignored that and leaned over the balcony. "So the dragon just... woke up?"
Nagisa nodded.
"If I remember correctly, his name is Vespen, the ancient mountain dragon. He slept for a long time, woke up recently, and decided the nearby kingdom had accumulated a great many lovely things while he was away." She gestured vaguely at the city. "Livestock, heirlooms, wagons of silver, fine tapestries, the occasional wandering noble, a pair of opera singers, three enchanted mirrors, and one baker's daughter who made the mistake of picking flowers too close to the lower cliffs."
Diana whipped around in horror. "He kidnapped a baker's daughter?"
"Mm."
"Is she okay?"
Nagisa thought for a second.
"Reportedly yes. He dressed her in pearls and put her on a velvet chair beside a pile of emeralds because he liked her hair."
Diana stared.
"That is somehow worse."
"It's certainly more annoying. If he were simply burning villages, the kingdom would be less divided. But a dragon who steals beautiful things and arranges them decoratively creates more complicated arguments."
Down below, as if on cue, a nobleman in blue threw his hands into the air and shouted something that was probably either "appease him" or "slay him," while three nearby merchants shouted back.
Diana crossed her arms. "So what's the lesson?"
Nagisa smiled.
This, Diana had learned by now, was never a good sign.
"This time around, it's all about followers," Nagisa said. "How to gain them properly."
Diana blinked.
"Followers?"
"Yes. Devotion. Loyalty. Reverence. Pick your preferred word." Nagisa folded her hands behind her back. "You have spent the last two lessons attempting to solve things in the loudest, most catastrophic way possible. This time I want you to do something smaller."
Diana pointed to the mountains beyond the city, where jagged peaks cut across the sky like broken teeth.
"Smaller than the dragon?"
"Much smaller than the dragon. Ideally nothing at all to do with the dragon."
Diana's face fell.
Nagisa continued, enjoying herself entirely too much.
"This kingdom needs a champion," Nagisa said. "Someone visible. Bless a knight with courage, or a healer with steadier hands, or a shepherd with the strength to keep going. Help one person rise, then help that champion help others. After that, you do the ten thousand little kindnesses... protect patrols, ease frightened hearts, guide messengers, keep people steady through the crisis. That is how gods earn followers who matter. Not by showing off directly."
Diana considered that.
For a moment, she even looked like she was considering it sincerely.
Then she looked back at the mountains.
Nagisa saw the glance.
Of course she did.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Nagisa said immediately.
"I didn't even say anything."
"your thoughts were not hidden at all. Call it a goddess' hunch."
"I was not..." Diana sighed, seemingly giving up the charade. "Okay, but counterpoint. If I stop the dragon, wouldn't that be helping all of them at once."
Nagisa closed her eyes for a moment like somebody choosing patience out of sheer moral discipline.
"Counter-counterpoint," she said, opening them again, "And then what? When the dragon falls, are you just going to announce that to the people? Telling them "I, the great goddess, have slain the dragon for you!"? How do you think the people will react?"
Diana pouted. "They would be happy I am sure."
"Are you sure about that?" Nagisa gave her a pointed look. "Are you sure that they will be happy with a goddess that just slays dragons on a whim?"
Diana turned bright red.
"What do you mean by that?! Of course they...!"
"...would start seeing you as the next dragon of unimaginable power that they will have to bend their lifes to." Nagisa completed her sentence. "You will be no different than the dragon you are slaying. Trust me, I have watched this scene unfold time and time again."
Nagisa then closed her eyes and quietly nodded to herself.
"But that's just my advice. I am going inside to speak with a foreign priestess real quick. I would like you to choose your champion until I come back. How you do it is up to you." She lifted one finger. "Though I will say once again, I would recommend against trying to take down that dragon yourself. Find a suitable hero to do it first. Why not~!"
Diana placed a hand over her chest in affronted innocence.
"Nagisa."
Nagisa stared.
Diana stared back.
Nagisa kept staring.
Diana's shoulders slumped.
"...Fine."
"Good girl."
Diana pointed at her. "Do not call me that."
Nagisa smiled sweetly, turned, and disappeared into dark mist.
The balcony was quiet.
Diana stood there for all of seven seconds.
Then she looked at the mountains again.
"Okay," she whispered to herself. "I know what she said. I heard every single word." She nodded once. "And I am definitely going to help ordinary people."
She paused.
"Right after I solve the dragon thing."
A burst of golden light swallowed her, and she vanished from the balcony.
—
The mountains above Aurelmont looked much more ominous up close.
What had seemed picturesque from the city turned into a brutal maze of cliffs, narrow ledges, and wind sharp enough to sting Diana's cheeks. There were great black scorch marks along the stone. Here and there she found glints of treasure caught in cracks and snowdrifts. Things like silver goblets, a snapped gold chain, a jeweled shoe and a crown with one side bent in.
"See?" Diana told the wind. "This is obviously the real problem."
At last she found the cave.
Found was, perhaps, not the right word.
The mountain practically announced it.
The entrance was enormous, framed by jagged stone and half-buried pillars from some ancient ruin the dragon had apparently decided looked nice there. Torchlight flickered inside, but so did stranger glows in all sorts of colors, like half the treasure of a continent was reflecting firelight back on itself.
Diana stepped inside and stopped dead.
The hoard did not look like a beast's den.
It looked like a deranged royal salon.
Gold was everywhere.
Coins lay in glittering drifts around low tables of carved ivory. Gemstones had been poured into crystal bowls like candy. Velvet curtains hung between pillars of stone. Chandeliers, like actual chandeliers, had been suspended from stalactites by lengths of chain. Enchanted mirrors lined one wall, each reflecting the room with a different tint or angle. Silks spilled over mounds of treasure as if the mountain itself had been redecorated by an extremely vain lunatic.
And scattered among it all were living ornaments.
A noblewoman in a blue gown sat on a heap of cushions with a ruby necklace the size of her fist clasped around her throat, staring at Diana with enormous eyes. Two musicians huddled beside a harp made of silver branches. The baker's daughter, if Diana guessed right, had indeed been draped in pearls and placed on a cushioned chair near a spray of golden candelabras.
All of them looked frightened.
But also none of them looked hurt.
At the center of the chamber, sprawled atop a mountain of gold as if it were a throne built by greed itself, lay Vespen.
He was colossal.
His scales were the color of dark wine and old rubies, with black along the horns and spine. One wing lay half-open over a drift of coins. Smoke curled lazily from his nostrils. Around one claw rested a heap of crowns and scepters, as casually as a man might rest his hand on a cushion.
One molten golden eye opened.
Then the other.
He regarded Diana for a long, thoughtful moment.
"Oh," he rumbled at last, voice so deep it made the treasure hum. "Another shiny thing."
Diana drew herself up to her full height, which was deeply unimpressive in this cave.
"I am not a shiny thing. I am a..."
Vespen's lip curled just enough to show teeth the size of swords.
"Everything is a shiny collectible if claimed and polished enough."
Diana took three determined steps forward and pointed at him.
"I am Diana, goddess of second chances, and you cannot keep stealing people and treating them like furniture!"
One of the musicians quietly scooted farther away from the dragon.
Vespen shifted lazily, the motion sending a small avalanche of coins sliding down the hoard.
"Can and should are different discussions," he said. "You would do well not to confuse them with false delusions of freedom."
"People are not possessions."
"Then why do kings keep putting them in little uniforms and arranging them in neat rows?" Vespen asked. "Why do nobles marry for land? Why do merchants count labor like coins? Everyone possesses what they can. Dragons are simply honest about it."
Diana opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"That is the worst moral philosophy I have ever heard."
"And yet," Vespen said, looking around his hoard with smug satisfaction, "it has furnished this cave beautifully."
Diana's eye twitched.
"You cannot just take beautiful things because you want them."
Vespen tilted his enormous head.
"My dear little goddess, precious things are meant to be treasured." His gaze drifted to the frightened people in the chamber. "I keep them safe. I feed them. I admire them. I have significantly better taste than most courts."
The baker's daughter made a face that strongly suggested this was not as reassuring as Vespen believed.
Diana planted both hands on her hips.
"That is not better."
"It is to me."
"You are a tyrant!"
"And yet, here you are, proclaiming to be a goddess, demanding to take things away from me. Are you sure I am the one to deserve the title of Tyrant?"
Diana felt the familiar hot bubble of frustration rise in her chest.
Why do these people always sound so confident and smug?
Why do they always look down on Diana?
Diana stared at the dragon.
Then at the terrified people arranged around the room.
Then back at the dragon.
"Yes," she said aloud. "Yes, you are a tyrant! And you need to be taken down."
Vespen raised a brow ridge.
"Were you speaking to me?"
"Of course."
"What a pity."
Diana thrust one hand toward him, golden light already gathering in her palm.
"If you insist on collecting others," she declared, "then maybe what you need is a blessing in humility! Maybe you should know what it feels like to become someone weak and precious enough to be treasured instead!"
Vespen stared.
Then he laughed.
The cave shook.
Coins danced.
A chandelier rang like a bell.
"You," the dragon said, once he had enough breath left to speak, "mean to humble me?"
Diana's cheeks flared pink, but she held her pose.
"Yes!"
"Adorable."
And that did it.
Diana's magic surged all at once.
"Then may you become dainty and lovely enough to be someone else's treasure," she shouted, "and learn what it means to be the prize instead of the one hoarding others!"
The blessing hit him like a ray of pure holy energy.
Then everything went wrong.
Every enchanted mirror flashed. Gems blazed. Crowns rang against one another with music that was not music. Magic from a hundred relics woke at once and fed into the spell. Every magical object all at once.
The entire cavern bloomed gold.
Vespen's laughter cut off.
Diana's eyes widened.
"...Oh no."
The first thing Vespen did was scoff.
Naturally.
The light wrapped around his immense body, but the dragon simply drew himself up higher over the hoard, wings flexing wide, smoke pouring from his nostrils.
"Pathetic," he said. "Did you think a dragon of my age would bow to a childish blessing?"
His voice rumbled proudly through the cave.
Then his body began to shrink.
Not quickly.
That would have been too easy.
No, it happened in long, luxurious increments, like the spell was savoring itself.
The mountain of muscle beneath his scales tightened first. The vast bulk of his torso drew inward. His shoulders narrowed, not into weakness but into an elegant refinement that made every line of him look more deliberate.
The great ridged jaw softened at the edges.
His snout shortened.
The heavy brutal angle of his face was slowly, impossibly, becoming fine.
Vespen felt it.
Diana could tell he felt it.
He merely lifted his head higher and said, with immense satisfaction, "Ha. As I thought. I am compressing the spell."
"You're not compressing anything!" Diana cried.
"I very much am."
He braced one claw against the hoard.
It sank into coins that rolled and chimed around him.
The claw itself was changing.
The long hooked talons remained, but the massive digits supporting them slimmed. The terrible brutish size of them refined into something more delicate, more articulate. Jewelry spilled around fingers that were no longer built only for crushing.
Vespen stared at his own hand.
Then smiled in terrible smugness.
"Excellent," he purred. "I have redirected it into a more controlled form."
"That is not what this is!"
The spell climbed.
His neck shortened, thick draconic power melting into regal posture. The chest that had once looked built to break castle gates narrowed, then drew inward, then swelled outward again in a completely different shape. Beneath a sliding sheet of ruby-dark scales, his torso was restructuring itself into a graceful humanoid silhouette.
The shift was almost obscene in its elegance.
The brutal heaviness of the dragon's upper body compressed into a slim waist and a high proud chest. Shoulders softened just enough to seem refined without ever becoming meek. His belly tightened flat. His hips began to widen.
Diana stared despite herself.
Vespen, even halfway transformed, was becoming beautiful in the most infuriating way possible.
He caught her staring.
That smug dragon grin returned.
"Yes," he said, voice beginning to lose some of its monstrous depth. "I look magnificent. Thank you for noticing."
Then the magic snapped sideways.
Into Diana.
She yelped as gold raced up her legs.
"Wha...! Not again...!"
The chamber seemingly erupted in loud defiance.
Heat climbed her calves, then her thighs. It wasn't really painful, but it was very insistent, reshaping muscle and bone in long fluid strokes. Her hips tugged wider. Her posture straightened against her will. Something prickled at her back.
She reached behind herself just in time to feel cloth forming where none had been a second earlier. It quickly became stiff lapels, fitted seams and crisp cuffs. Black and burgundy fabric flowed over her body in neat tailored lines, as if an invisible staff of royal dressmakers had all fallen upon her at once.
"Why am I being dressed?" Diana squeaked.
Vespen, currently losing half his original body mass while pretending this was all intentional, laughed again.
It came out lighter this time.
Almost musical.
He ignored it completely.
"Because," he said grandly, "the spell has realized it cannot touch me and seeks another role in the tableau."
Diana pointed at him wildly. "You are literally turning into a human!"
"I will never be a human! I am a dragon!" he roared, although significantly less menacing than before.
Then the transformation surged once more.
His hindquarters drew inward next, massive draconic bulk folding and condensing as if the spell were turning raw majesty into concentrated luxury. His hind legs shortened, thick muscles streaming into long elegant thighs. Knees reversed their direction, then slid and reformed. His stance shifted from quadrupedal dominance toward upright grace.
The great wings at his back shrank, but not into uselessness. They restructured themselves into finer, narrower shapes. Still unmistakably draconic, but now decorative as much as fearsome, with translucent membranes like dark stained glass.
His horns curled inward slightly, slimming into smooth regal arcs that looked almost like a crown designed by nature.
And through all of it, Vespen kept lifting his chin.
"You see?" he said, voice fully caught between a purr and a lady's laugh now. "I am the most refined draconic being the world has ever known!"
His body gave a sharp, involuntary shudder.
He gasped.
The sound was high and soft.
Distinctly feminine.
A long curtain of hair spilled down his back, rich as poured wine with streaks of molten gold, cascading past shoulders that were no longer built like siege engines but like sculpture.
Diana stared.
"Oh, you did not win," she said, almost breathless with disbelief.
Vespen blinked once.
Then smiled with sudden, overwhelming satisfaction.
"Of course I did. I always win."
He rose higher atop the hoard.
Not with the grounded weight of a dragon.
But with poise.
With posture.
With one elegant hand resting against his chest as if he had spent a lifetime practicing the gesture.
The remaining scales along his body softened in texture, brightening from deep wine-red into a lustrous ruby sheen that gleamed like enamel over silk. Gold gathered at the edges of his horns, along his nails, at the delicate points of his wings. Jewelry from the hoard shivered and lifted, drawn by the spell into orbit around him before settling one piece at a time. Bracelets, rings, a jeweled collar appeared around him, as did a circlet that hovered near his brow and then clicked into place like it had found its rightful home.
Diana's own changes rushed forward in answer.
Small ruby horns pushed up through her hair. A tail spilled from the back of her fitted coat with a whip-like flick. Two compact dragon wings unfurled from her back, folding neatly as soon as they formed. Her body slimmed into composed, servant-like grace, every line of her suddenly too polished, too poised, too perfectly arranged.
The suit finished itself around her.
Black coat with gold buttons.
A fitted vest of deep crimson.
A white cravat at her throat.
Sharp gloves to hide her now clawed hands.
High boots to hit her pawed feet.
A faintly ridiculous but undeniably elegant butler-maid hybrid designed by someone with both impeccable taste and a very questionable sense of humor.
Diana grabbed at the lapels in horror.
"Are these... No! Absolutely not. I shall not be wearing servant clothes."
The words came out primmer than she intended.
She heard it and froze.
Then heard herself add, in a voice sweetened by reflex she did not choose, "My princess—"
She slapped both hands over her mouth.
Vespen turned toward her.
By now he was almost entirely there.
Or rather, she was.
The last traces of the old dragon's monstrous shape flowed upward and inward, leaving behind a tall, breathtaking dragon-girl perched atop the hoard like a jewel given human form. Her waist was narrow, her figure lush and feminine without ever losing the sense of draconic power coiled under the elegance. Her wings framed her like a cape. Her long tail curled around the treasure in lazy possessive loops. The scales remaining across her shoulders, hips, and tail gleamed like a gown made of gemstones. Her face, once terrible, monstrous and predatory, was now devastatingly lovely, with proud eyes, long lashes, soft lips, and a smile so smug it ought to have been illegal.
Vespen looked at Diana.
Then at her own hand.
Then at the enchanted mirrors all around the cave.
One by one, the mirrors reflected the same vision back.
A princess.
A dragon princess.
A perfect one.
Vespen laughed.
No.
Vesperia laughed.
It was airy and aristocratic and landed in the cave with the force of a fan snapped open in a ballroom.
"Ohohohoho~" she sang, lifting one hand delicately to her mouth. "Did you truly think such a petty blessing could affect me?"
Diana just stared.
Vesperia flicked her hair over one shoulder.
"I simply guided it back to you, you fool," she said. "Not that it would have affected me anyway even if you somehow were to be successful. Because all it would have done was increase my already unlimited gracefulness even more! Ohohoho~!"
Diana pointed at her with a shaking finger. "You are a dragon princess now!"
"I have always been a dragon princess," Vesperia replied, with total confidence. "And I always will be... until I am the dragon queen! Ohohohohoho~! Wouldn't you agree, my dear servant?"
Diana's brow furrowed.
She wanted to open her mouth to argue.
Instead she bowed.
Actually bowed.
From the waist.
Gracefully.
"It is just as you say, my princess."
Diana's mind reeled. Something was extremely wrong.
"I knew you would agree, my dear servant!" Vesperia glanced over her shoulder at an empty patch of velvet-draped treasure and said, in the idly commanding tone of someone born to be obeyed, "Now that we straightened that out, we need to rearrange this room a little. I can't believe I was living like this before. Diana, A cushioned seat would look better there."
Diana pivoted at once.
"As you wish, my princess."
She snatched a nearby chair with a velvet cushion, marched three steps, arranged it precisely where Vesperia had indicated, and only then realized what she had just done.
The baker's daughter stared.
The two musicians stared.
Diana stared at the cushion like it had betrayed her personally.
"Wha...?" she whispered.
Vesperia's smile widened.
"Mm. Yes. I think that suits the room much better."
Diana clenched both fists.
"You are not my princess."
"But I am," Vesperia said, with the serene confidence of somebody describing the weather. She reclined atop the treasure, one wing shifting elegantly behind her, the long ruby tail curling through coin and silk. "Clearly."
Diana's teeth ground together.
"You were a male dragon ten minutes ago."
Vesperia blinked in lazy surprise.
"Was I? How quaint. I suppose if you have time for a blooming fantasy like that, that just means that you don't have enough work to do." She glanced at her own reflection and smiled warmly at it. "My dear servant Diana, let's fix the rest of this room. We want to make it as welcoming as possible for when my prince finally arrives Ohohoho"
"Yes, my princess," Diana spoke, and thus the work began.
---
A good hour later, the den was finally cleaned up.
The chandeliers hung straight.
The velvet had been shaken out and rehung.
The scattered piles of treasure had been sorted into something far more elegant.
And all the captured humans had been sent safely on their way long before Nagisa arrived, ushered out by Diana with polite reassurances that Princess Vesperia would no longer be keeping guests by force.
At this point, Diana no longer thought much about obeying.
If Vesperia wanted something adjusted, Diana adjusted it.
If Vesperia made a declaration, Diana agreed.
That was simply how the room worked now.
Vesperia reclined atop her hoard with one leg crossed delicately over the other, tail curled through ruby and gold, looking for all the world like she had been born there.
Diana stood beside her in perfect servant posture, one hand folded behind her back and the other resting lightly at her waist.
"A little more to the left," Vesperia said, glancing at a mirror.
Diana moved it half an inch.
"Perfect, my princess."
Vesperia laughed lightly behind her fan.
"You say that, and yet you are doing wonderfully."
"Thank you, my princess."
Then black mist curled through the cave entrance.
Nagisa stepped inside.
She took in the room in one slow sweep.
The polished hoard.
The rearranged velvet and mirrors.
The princess dragon lounging in luxurious triumph.
And Diana, standing beside her like she had always belonged there.
Nagisa lifted one eyebrow.
Then she started laughing.
"Oh," she said, covering her mouth. "Hi, Diana."
Diana sighed.
"Hello, Nagisa."
Vesperia lifted her chin.
"Do try to contain yourself. You are in the presence of royalty."
Nagisa looked over at her thoughtfully.
"Oh my. I do apologize, lady Vesperia, dragon princess," she said. "I hope I am not intruding."
"Naturally," Vesperia replied. "I take it you are an acquaintance of my dear servant?"
Diana nodded at once.
"Naturally, my princess."
Nagisa's smile sharpened.
"And the servant seems to have settled in nicely into your ranks too."
Diana folded her hands a little more neatly.
"I would prefer it if you did not phrase it like that."
"But it is accurate." Nagisa strolled farther into the cave. "Let's see. I told you to choose a champion, bless them, and help the kingdom through a thousand little acts of care." She gestured lightly toward Vesperia. "Instead, you turned the dragon into a princess and yourself into her butler."
"That summary is unhelpful," Diana said.
"It is also correct," Nagisa replied.
Vesperia waved one hand languidly.
"She has been quite useful, actually."
Diana bowed her head automatically.
"I am pleased to be of service, my princess."
Nagisa laughed again.
"Well, on the positive side, you did gain a follower."
Diana blinked.
Then slowly frowned.
"...No, I didn't."
Nagisa looked delighted.
"Well, that's true." She pointed at Diana. "You didn't gain a follower as much as you just became the follower."
Diana opened her mouth.
"Exactly!" Vesperia interjected, "She has become a fine servant to a magnificent mistress. Isn't that right?"
Diana answered at once.
"Indeed. You are a magnificent mistress, my princess."
Nagisa grinned.
"Well, I would usually give you full marks on the spell, given how much devotion it created. Unfortunately, I have to deduct them immediately, because the lesson was to gain a follower, not become one yourself."
Diana looked tired now rather than panicked.
"That still feels cruel."
"It is a little cruel," Nagisa admitted. "But also extremely funny."
Then Diana looked back at Nagisa.
"Then I assume you are not here to undo this...?"
"Oh, absolutely not."
Diana sighed again, softer this time.
"I thought so."
Nagisa smiled.
"You ignored the lesson, escalated immediately, and ended up personally demonstrating the exact kind of devotion you were supposed to inspire in someone else. I think living with that for a while will be educational."
Vesperia gave a delighted little ojou laugh.
"So far, she has pleased me quite well. I shall always allow her to stay! Ohohoho!"
Diana nodded before she could stop herself.
"As you wish, my princess."
Nagisa stepped backward into gathering black mist.
"I wonder, if once, just once, you manage to get through one of these lessons without turning yourself into an example."
Then she vanished.
The cave grew quiet again.
Vesperia glanced to the side.
"Diana. Fan me."
Diana plucked a jeweled fan from the nearest pile of gold and opened it in one smooth motion.
"Yes, my princess."
Vesperia smiled, settled deeper into the velvet and treasure, and sighed in complete satisfaction.
"Honestly," she said, eyes half-lidded, "I do not know how I ever tolerated anything less than this."
Diana fanned her with steady, elegant strokes.
"No doubt your standards were always impeccable, my princess."
"Of course they were. Ohohohoho~"
And somewhere far away, Nagisa was still laughing.