Ophelia massaged the bump on her head.
That didn't actually happen too often. Ophelia's head was tough. Worryingly tough. She'd had everything thrown at it, mostly since people couldn't do much else.
Whether it was forest bandits on their first day robbing merchants or a gladiator carrying as much fame as weaponry, pretty much everyone decided to just throw stuff at her instead of fighting her.
Sometimes, throwing stuff at her was an actual strategy. Like spears and knives. But usually, it was to distract her while running away very fast. And that included valuables.
She now had a collection of untouched coin pouches and jewellery at home.
Despite having no qualms about burglary and thievery, Ophelia felt shockingly uneasy about taking advantage of the stuff people threw at her. She didn't really feel like she'd earned anything. And so in the hopes that the same forest bandit or gladiator ever wanted their stuff returned, she was ready to give everything back.
Especially since nothing really hurt her. Things that shouldn't bounce off her head simply did. Enough that she stopped caring as much as she should.
The pillar, though.
That definitely didn't bounce off her.
“...... Uuugh, the bump isn't going away …...”
As she sat on the edge of one of Aquina's clay rooftops, Ophelia touched the bump on her head and winced.
It really did hurt.
Granted, smashing into a pillar should hurt. In that case, this was normal. But Ophelia wasn't normal. She was an A-rank sword saint. And despite what people thought, it wasn't combat skill which really bridged the gap between B-rank and A-rank.
It was being really tough.
Because if Ophelia wasn't tough, she'd be seeing Great-Grandma's scowl right about now.
Still, the bump on her head hurt. And no wonder. Because if there was one thing stronger than her head, it was her legs. And she'd propelled herself into that pillar like her ducks diving for the nice seeded bread.
Ophelia was fast.
When she danced, not even colours could keep up with her. Everything was a blur.
But the biggest blur?
It was her.
Ophelia swung her legs from the edge of the rooftop as she watched the pretty girl hurrying away from the clockwork doll and the newly arrived mage, seeming distraught as she walked as fast as she could without actually breaking into a sprint.
There was a lot Ophelia wanted to ask. How her hair was so shiny. How her skin complexion was so smooth. How she smelled so nice despite the rest of everywhere else smelling like cows. And also how her [Yuleblade Dance] had been sidestepped with such contemptuous ease.
And if she wasn't recoiling with cringe as she thought back on their fight, she'd hop right down and ask her.
Ophelia didn't put any stock in her rank or her title. But bragging about her signature ability and then falling over pretty much killed her soul, even if it didn't kill her body.
It was extremely embarrassing–and also utterly shocking.
When she danced, she spun, and when she spun, she sent her bladework everywhere. Evading Ophelia in the middle of her technique was like dodging a tornado, but the E-rank adventurer had done it with alarming ease.
It was, just like the way she held her sword, extremely unorthodox.
Ophelia was by no means the court swordswoman, but even she held a sword properly. Or at least what she thought was properly.
In the end, who was she to judge?
She'd been bamboozled. And not just her.
Because as embarrassing as being casually tripped up into a pillar was, it was nothing compared to being defeated by having a duck thrown in your face.
Now that was hilarious. But also spectacular. Because not only had Duck A somehow survived, but that girl's [Spring Breeze] technique was A-rank at the minimum.
Perhaps even S-rank.
It'd gone right through dragon fire. Or something that was an imitation of it. But even a parody of dragon fire was nothing to laugh at. There were very few things classified as SS-rank in combat difficulty, and dragons were one of them.
Meaning that girl possessed both S-rank sword techniques and reactions.
And that was nuts.
Because even as Ophelia watched her scarper away, she still couldn't sense a single morsel of world ending doom about her aura. She truly was a hidden gem.
Seeing this, Ophelia shivered–
“Heh heheh heheheh ...”
And then jumped in joy.
Springing up from the edge of the rooftop, she leaped high into the air, somersaulting all the dust and grime off her backside. She jumped, she danced, she twirled and she covered her now slightly wonky nose as blood starting leaking out. But that's fine!
Because Ophelia never got the chance to bleed her own blood, and the sensation made her ecstatic.
It was so … warm! And the taste! It was horrific!
She loved it!
It'd been years since anyone in this kingdom came even remotely close to challenging her. And now this adventurer had appeared like a light in a storm of boredom. Could Ophelia have taken the fight a little more seriously? Sure. But it wasn't like she hadn't tried.
She'd actually lost.
And that was amazing.
Because Ophelia ... now had a goal to work towards!
A rush of excitement surged through her.
Suddenly, the thought of training didn't fill her with despair. The idea of adventuring didn't echo for miles in the form of her groans.
She finally found what she was looking for.
A rival!
Ophelia the Snow Dancer wasted no time.
Like a young elf on her first day about to murder a trespasser in the forest, she shook off what remained of the muck on her and silently turned away from the edge of the roof. She had things to do, places to be and a lot of things to kill. Seriously. There was going to be so much murdering. Blood everywhere. Fountains of it. She could tell.
But first–she had to go shopping.
Yes, even if that meant being mobbed.
She needed new stuff. New boots. New gloves. Maybe actual armour. Ophelia needed to become stronger. And that meant she needed to dress stronger.
She needed to become S-rank.
It was a wild thought. But she thought she could do it. She just had to go kill a dragon or something. That was hard. But Ophelia was in a great mood. And if being smashed into a giant pillar didn't kill her, then neither could a dragon stomping on her … right?
Pumping her fist in joy, Ophelia the Snow Dancer turned on the spot.
She was ready!
For the first time in years, she felt the euphoria of being busy! There was so much to do and so little time! After all, it wouldn't do if Ophelia only became stronger after the pretty human girl succumbed to all the diseases that they loved dying from.
And that meant no time for sorting out her fan mail, unblocking the fireplace, expanding the pond or speaking to the mysterious figure leaning against the chimney next to her.
“Snow Dancer,” said the girl, teasing a scarlet smile against pale skin. “You look better in the rumours.”
Despite the sunshine blaring upon the roof, the shadow cast by the chimney contained an unnatural darkness, as though beholden to the one hiding within it.
But only partly.
After all, what was mystery, if nothing was ever revealed?
Ophelia, however, was in a hurry.
And so–she unsheathed her luminous sword.
“Really?” she said, mildly impressed at the dedication she saw. “Cloak and shadows taken a bit far, don't you think?”
Despite the light emanating from her blade, it failed to penetrate the darkness cast over this girl's figure. Only the faint silhouette of a smile could be seen. A shadow amongst shadows.
“Cloak and shadows is all I have. It's depressing. Do you know how rarely I appear? If I don't have my air of mystery, I may as well not exist.”
Ophelia didn't hesitate.
“Then I'm out. I like secret deals and stuff. It's cool and mysterious. And that's 100% me. But I like to know who I'm speaking to when I make my illicit deals.”
“Is that a term of negotiation?”
“Obviously. If I don't know what you look like, then how am I supposed to murder you after you betray me?”
The girl smiled. A heartbeat passed, during which Ophelia angled her sword towards the darkness.
And then–
The shadow dissipated beneath the spring glare.
Ophelia blinked as she took in the form of a girl slightly older than the one retreating into Aquina's distance.
She possessed pale skin made whiter by the redness of her lips, and hair darker than the shadows which had just departed. Her eyes were of different colours. One golden and one scarlet. And yet they almost failed to be her most striking features.
That would be the uniform she wore.
It was weird–and also a bit racy.
Garter belt and stockings. Now that was brave. Ophelia had confidence. But wearing that in public was something else. Maybe that's why she was in the shadows. The short skirt patterned as a roulette wheel certainly didn't do much to help her dignity. Nor the sleeveless blouse and the open waistcoat. If it wasn't for her red tie, Ophelia was pretty sure this girl would be arrested for public indecency.
Still, her hat was cool.
The tiniest hat in the world, decorated with a playing card, sticking to the side of her head without falling.
Ophelia could push against gravity. But this girl could control it. She kept her hat from falling off her head. Now that was cool. What was [Gravity Reversal] compared to aesthetics?
“Satisfied?” she queried.
Ophelia thought about it.
“How about a twirl?”
The girl lightly pushed off from the chimney, then did as asked.
A full spin allowing her skirt to flutter and her hair to float beneath her hat.
“Now?” she asked, as she casually dumped herself back against the wall.
Ophelia nodded emphatically. She already had a new idea for her next outfit. Although hers probably wouldn't involve garter belts … maybe.
“Not bad. Let me guess, you don't spend a lot of time in public?”
“Never. Can you tell? I feel far too exposed. And you have no idea what I'm wearing underneath as well. It's disgraceful.”
“Uniform non-negotiable, huh? That's going to be a problem.”
“Then you may relax. This uniform is mine only. A special uniform for a special role. I'm required to search out strong candidates to join my super secret organisation. Preferably those recently defeated and thus easy to manipulate. How does that sound to you?”
“Hmmmmmmmmm ...”
Ophelia scratched her cheek as she considered the proposal.
She'd always wanted to work for a secret organisation. Who didn't? But it sounded like a lot of hassle. And she'd only just committed herself to achieving S-rank. That probably couldn't happen while she was off being sneaky with villainous plots.
“Thanks. But I'm gonna pass.”
The girl raised an eyebrow.
“Was asking me to twirl necessary, then?”
“Nope.” Ophelia beamed without a shred of apology. “But you don't get what you don't ask for, right?”
The girl's smile was unfaltering. A true professional.
“Quite so. Then let me ask you again, but in a different manner. How do you feel about working under the auspices of Lotus House?”
Ophelia gave a small hum.
“That depends. Do I get to fight everyone in Lotus House?”
“Officially, no.”
“Unofficially?”
“... Disagreements happen. Frequently.”
Ophelia gave a small tilt of her head as she considered the prospects of working for the kingdom's considerably larger neighbour.
On one hand, she probably wouldn't be bored. On the other, if she wanted to work for Lotus House, then she would've done so already.
In the end, she was a free bird, and her pond was the world.
One that had just gotten bigger.
“I've only just finished unofficially working for someone. And that didn't really turn out too well. For him, that is. I'm great! ... Just ignore the bump on my head.”
The girl most certainly didn't ignore the bump on her head. She made a point of looking at it before responding.
“So I see. A pity about the Duke.”
“Really?”
“No. But he had his uses.”
Oh, Ophelia had no doubt that was the case.
The Duke was never the brightest star in the sky. And trying anything with the fae dug pretty low in the idiot barrel. But that's why she went along with it. She wanted to see the results when calamity inevitably bit him.
But even so, he'd dug so low that he was now a puddle on the floor.
That the Grand Duchy of Granholtz was involved was the least of surprises. It'd been a good thirty years since the Grand Duchess had annexed the last kingdom. And Tirea made some pretty good sandwiches.
“A bit of chaos here. A bit of civil war there. A bit of fae sprinkled on top. Your Grand Duchess loves to see it, doesn't she?”
The roulette girl swayed slightly as she leaned innocently against the chimney. Ophelia continued measuring the distance between them.
“The Grand Duchess? I cannot speak in regards to her mind. Hers is far too great for mine to contemplate. And also far away. She sits in her White Tower, with no thought to spare for the ambitions of a countryside duke in a tiny kingdom by the sea.”
The very small patriotic part of Ophelia wanted to complain at that. Tirea wasn't tiny. It was just cozy. Just like the cottage she still needed to lock up before she left.
Thus, she smiled as she turned away from the girl.
She could jump in the other direction. That's fine, too.
“Great! Well, I hope you guys have fun with plotting but not plotting. I'm going to do my own thing now.”
“... Is that a final decision?”
“Yup.”
Ophelia didn't wait for a reply.
Instead, she instantly swept her sword behind her.
Her arcing slash sung as it pierced the air where the girl had been standing. Only the bright glare of spring illuminating the cracks in the chimney met her blow.
“Huh,” she mused. “That's usually when they backstab me.”
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
Suddenly, a familiar noise greeted her.
Beneath her, Duck A had silently, stealthily waddled all the way up to the rooftop.
Ophelia bent down and scooped it up.
She was surprised Duck A came back for her. She'd left the castle, accepting that her friendly duck probably wasn't exactly her duck. That crystal beak and those shiny icy eyes was proof that it belonged to the Winter Court.
Still … if she didn't ask, she didn't get, right?
“So, what do you say? Wanna go on a dangerous adventure with me? Don't worry, I'll ask Duck B if it wants to come along too.”
Duck A looked at her, then flapped its wings.
Ophelia smiled.
Taking her trusty companion under her arm, she danced across the rooftops of Aquina like a pebble skipping across a pond, disturbing not a single tile. She paused only to pluck at something stuck on the back of her clothes.
A playing card. An ace of hearts.
She turned it around. There was something scribbled on the back. Directions, an address and a secret code. Highly dangerous stuff.
She tossed it down onto the streets below for the first kid to pick up.
She didn't need it. She knew where Lotus House was, after all.
The Grand Duchy of Granholtz.
A place where she could go find a dragon to kill.
Because the next time she saw that adventurer, it was going to be amazing.
Either they'd kill each other or get married.
Ophelia was pretty certain it was going to be one or the other. After all, the aunties wouldn't get off her back just because she hit S-rank.
She'd decide closer to the time which one she wanted.
kayenano
The Dealer.
Affiliation: Lotus House.
Role: Unknown.
Ophelia massaged the bump on her head.
That didn't actually happen too often. Ophelia's head was tough. Worryingly tough. She'd had everything thrown at it, mostly since people couldn't do much else.
Whether it was forest bandits on their first day robbing merchants or a gladiator carrying as much fame as weaponry, pretty much everyone decided to just throw stuff at her instead of fighting her.
Sometimes, throwing stuff at her was an actual strategy. Like spears and knives. But usually, it was to distract her while running away very fast. And that included valuables.
She now had a collection of untouched coin pouches and jewellery at home.
Despite having no qualms about burglary and thievery, Ophelia felt shockingly uneasy about taking advantage of the stuff people threw at her. She didn't really feel like she'd earned anything. And so in the hopes that the same forest bandit or gladiator ever wanted their stuff returned, she was ready to give everything back.
Especially since nothing really hurt her. Things that shouldn't bounce off her head simply did. Enough that she stopped caring as much as she should.
The pillar, though.
That definitely didn't bounce off her.
“...... Uuugh, the bump isn't going away …...”
As she sat on the edge of one of Aquina's clay rooftops, Ophelia touched the bump on her head and winced.
It really did hurt.
Granted, smashing into a pillar should hurt. In that case, this was normal. But Ophelia wasn't normal. She was an A-rank sword saint. And despite what people thought, it wasn't combat skill which really bridged the gap between B-rank and A-rank.
It was being really tough.
Because if Ophelia wasn't tough, she'd be seeing Great-Grandma's scowl right about now.
Still, the bump on her head hurt. And no wonder. Because if there was one thing stronger than her head, it was her legs. And she'd propelled herself into that pillar like her ducks diving for the nice seeded bread.
Ophelia was fast.
When she danced, not even colours could keep up with her. Everything was a blur.
But the biggest blur?
It was her.
Ophelia swung her legs from the edge of the rooftop as she watched the pretty girl hurrying away from the clockwork doll and the newly arrived mage, seeming distraught as she walked as fast as she could without actually breaking into a sprint.
There was a lot Ophelia wanted to ask. How her hair was so shiny. How her skin complexion was so smooth. How she smelled so nice despite the rest of everywhere else smelling like cows. And also how her [Yuleblade Dance] had been sidestepped with such contemptuous ease.
And if she wasn't recoiling with cringe as she thought back on their fight, she'd hop right down and ask her.
Ophelia didn't put any stock in her rank or her title. But bragging about her signature ability and then falling over pretty much killed her soul, even if it didn't kill her body.
It was extremely embarrassing–and also utterly shocking.
When she danced, she spun, and when she spun, she sent her bladework everywhere. Evading Ophelia in the middle of her technique was like dodging a tornado, but the E-rank adventurer had done it with alarming ease.
It was, just like the way she held her sword, extremely unorthodox.
Ophelia was by no means the court swordswoman, but even she held a sword properly. Or at least what she thought was properly.
In the end, who was she to judge?
She'd been bamboozled. And not just her.
Because as embarrassing as being casually tripped up into a pillar was, it was nothing compared to being defeated by having a duck thrown in your face.
Now that was hilarious. But also spectacular. Because not only had Duck A somehow survived, but that girl's [Spring Breeze] technique was A-rank at the minimum.
Perhaps even S-rank.
It'd gone right through dragon fire. Or something that was an imitation of it. But even a parody of dragon fire was nothing to laugh at. There were very few things classified as SS-rank in combat difficulty, and dragons were one of them.
Meaning that girl possessed both S-rank sword techniques and reactions.
And that was nuts.
Because even as Ophelia watched her scarper away, she still couldn't sense a single morsel of world ending doom about her aura. She truly was a hidden gem.
Seeing this, Ophelia shivered–
“Heh heheh heheheh ...”
And then jumped in joy.
Springing up from the edge of the rooftop, she leaped high into the air, somersaulting all the dust and grime off her backside. She jumped, she danced, she twirled and she covered her now slightly wonky nose as blood starting leaking out. But that's fine!
Because Ophelia never got the chance to bleed her own blood, and the sensation made her ecstatic.
It was so … warm! And the taste! It was horrific!
She loved it!
It'd been years since anyone in this kingdom came even remotely close to challenging her. And now this adventurer had appeared like a light in a storm of boredom. Could Ophelia have taken the fight a little more seriously? Sure. But it wasn't like she hadn't tried.
She'd actually lost.
And that was amazing.
Because Ophelia ... now had a goal to work towards!
A rush of excitement surged through her.
Suddenly, the thought of training didn't fill her with despair. The idea of adventuring didn't echo for miles in the form of her groans.
She finally found what she was looking for.
A rival!
Ophelia the Snow Dancer wasted no time.
Like a young elf on her first day about to murder a trespasser in the forest, she shook off what remained of the muck on her and silently turned away from the edge of the roof. She had things to do, places to be and a lot of things to kill. Seriously. There was going to be so much murdering. Blood everywhere. Fountains of it. She could tell.
But first–she had to go shopping.
Yes, even if that meant being mobbed.
She needed new stuff. New boots. New gloves. Maybe actual armour. Ophelia needed to become stronger. And that meant she needed to dress stronger.
She needed to become S-rank.
It was a wild thought. But she thought she could do it. She just had to go kill a dragon or something. That was hard. But Ophelia was in a great mood. And if being smashed into a giant pillar didn't kill her, then neither could a dragon stomping on her … right?
Pumping her fist in joy, Ophelia the Snow Dancer turned on the spot.
She was ready!
For the first time in years, she felt the euphoria of being busy! There was so much to do and so little time! After all, it wouldn't do if Ophelia only became stronger after the pretty human girl succumbed to all the diseases that they loved dying from.
And that meant no time for sorting out her fan mail, unblocking the fireplace, expanding the pond or speaking to the mysterious figure leaning against the chimney next to her.
“Snow Dancer,” said the girl, teasing a scarlet smile against pale skin. “You look better in the rumours.”
Despite the sunshine blaring upon the roof, the shadow cast by the chimney contained an unnatural darkness, as though beholden to the one hiding within it.
But only partly.
After all, what was mystery, if nothing was ever revealed?
Ophelia, however, was in a hurry.
And so–she unsheathed her luminous sword.
“Really?” she said, mildly impressed at the dedication she saw. “Cloak and shadows taken a bit far, don't you think?”
Despite the light emanating from her blade, it failed to penetrate the darkness cast over this girl's figure. Only the faint silhouette of a smile could be seen. A shadow amongst shadows.
“Cloak and shadows is all I have. It's depressing. Do you know how rarely I appear? If I don't have my air of mystery, I may as well not exist.”
Ophelia didn't hesitate.
“Then I'm out. I like secret deals and stuff. It's cool and mysterious. And that's 100% me. But I like to know who I'm speaking to when I make my illicit deals.”
“Is that a term of negotiation?”
“Obviously. If I don't know what you look like, then how am I supposed to murder you after you betray me?”
The girl smiled. A heartbeat passed, during which Ophelia angled her sword towards the darkness.
And then–
The shadow dissipated beneath the spring glare.
Ophelia blinked as she took in the form of a girl slightly older than the one retreating into Aquina's distance.
She possessed pale skin made whiter by the redness of her lips, and hair darker than the shadows which had just departed. Her eyes were of different colours. One golden and one scarlet. And yet they almost failed to be her most striking features.
That would be the uniform she wore.
It was weird–and also a bit racy.
Garter belt and stockings. Now that was brave. Ophelia had confidence. But wearing that in public was something else. Maybe that's why she was in the shadows. The short skirt patterned as a roulette wheel certainly didn't do much to help her dignity. Nor the sleeveless blouse and the open waistcoat. If it wasn't for her red tie, Ophelia was pretty sure this girl would be arrested for public indecency.
Still, her hat was cool.
The tiniest hat in the world, decorated with a playing card, sticking to the side of her head without falling.
Ophelia could push against gravity. But this girl could control it. She kept her hat from falling off her head. Now that was cool. What was [Gravity Reversal] compared to aesthetics?
“Satisfied?” she queried.
Ophelia thought about it.
“How about a twirl?”
The girl lightly pushed off from the chimney, then did as asked.
A full spin allowing her skirt to flutter and her hair to float beneath her hat.
“Now?” she asked, as she casually dumped herself back against the wall.
Ophelia nodded emphatically. She already had a new idea for her next outfit. Although hers probably wouldn't involve garter belts … maybe.
“Not bad. Let me guess, you don't spend a lot of time in public?”
“Never. Can you tell? I feel far too exposed. And you have no idea what I'm wearing underneath as well. It's disgraceful.”
“Uniform non-negotiable, huh? That's going to be a problem.”
“Then you may relax. This uniform is mine only. A special uniform for a special role. I'm required to search out strong candidates to join my super secret organisation. Preferably those recently defeated and thus easy to manipulate. How does that sound to you?”
“Hmmmmmmmmm ...”
Ophelia scratched her cheek as she considered the proposal.
She'd always wanted to work for a secret organisation. Who didn't? But it sounded like a lot of hassle. And she'd only just committed herself to achieving S-rank. That probably couldn't happen while she was off being sneaky with villainous plots.
“Thanks. But I'm gonna pass.”
The girl raised an eyebrow.
“Was asking me to twirl necessary, then?”
“Nope.” Ophelia beamed without a shred of apology. “But you don't get what you don't ask for, right?”
The girl's smile was unfaltering. A true professional.
“Quite so. Then let me ask you again, but in a different manner. How do you feel about working under the auspices of Lotus House?”
Ophelia gave a small hum.
“That depends. Do I get to fight everyone in Lotus House?”
“Officially, no.”
“Unofficially?”
“... Disagreements happen. Frequently.”
Ophelia gave a small tilt of her head as she considered the prospects of working for the kingdom's considerably larger neighbour.
On one hand, she probably wouldn't be bored. On the other, if she wanted to work for Lotus House, then she would've done so already.
In the end, she was a free bird, and her pond was the world.
One that had just gotten bigger.
“I've only just finished unofficially working for someone. And that didn't really turn out too well. For him, that is. I'm great! ... Just ignore the bump on my head.”
The girl most certainly didn't ignore the bump on her head. She made a point of looking at it before responding.
“So I see. A pity about the Duke.”
“Really?”
“No. But he had his uses.”
Oh, Ophelia had no doubt that was the case.
The Duke was never the brightest star in the sky. And trying anything with the fae dug pretty low in the idiot barrel. But that's why she went along with it. She wanted to see the results when calamity inevitably bit him.
But even so, he'd dug so low that he was now a puddle on the floor.
That the Grand Duchy of Granholtz was involved was the least of surprises. It'd been a good thirty years since the Grand Duchess had annexed the last kingdom. And Tirea made some pretty good sandwiches.
“A bit of chaos here. A bit of civil war there. A bit of fae sprinkled on top. Your Grand Duchess loves to see it, doesn't she?”
The roulette girl swayed slightly as she leaned innocently against the chimney. Ophelia continued measuring the distance between them.
“The Grand Duchess? I cannot speak in regards to her mind. Hers is far too great for mine to contemplate. And also far away. She sits in her White Tower, with no thought to spare for the ambitions of a countryside duke in a tiny kingdom by the sea.”
The very small patriotic part of Ophelia wanted to complain at that. Tirea wasn't tiny. It was just cozy. Just like the cottage she still needed to lock up before she left.
Thus, she smiled as she turned away from the girl.
She could jump in the other direction. That's fine, too.
“Great! Well, I hope you guys have fun with plotting but not plotting. I'm going to do my own thing now.”
“... Is that a final decision?”
“Yup.”
Ophelia didn't wait for a reply.
Instead, she instantly swept her sword behind her.
Her arcing slash sung as it pierced the air where the girl had been standing. Only the bright glare of spring illuminating the cracks in the chimney met her blow.
“Huh,” she mused. “That's usually when they backstab me.”
Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
Suddenly, a familiar noise greeted her.
Beneath her, Duck A had silently, stealthily waddled all the way up to the rooftop.
Ophelia bent down and scooped it up.
She was surprised Duck A came back for her. She'd left the castle, accepting that her friendly duck probably wasn't exactly her duck. That crystal beak and those shiny icy eyes was proof that it belonged to the Winter Court.
Still … if she didn't ask, she didn't get, right?
“So, what do you say? Wanna go on a dangerous adventure with me? Don't worry, I'll ask Duck B if it wants to come along too.”
Duck A looked at her, then flapped its wings.
Ophelia smiled.
Taking her trusty companion under her arm, she danced across the rooftops of Aquina like a pebble skipping across a pond, disturbing not a single tile. She paused only to pluck at something stuck on the back of her clothes.
A playing card. An ace of hearts.
She turned it around. There was something scribbled on the back. Directions, an address and a secret code. Highly dangerous stuff.
She tossed it down onto the streets below for the first kid to pick up.
She didn't need it. She knew where Lotus House was, after all.
The Grand Duchy of Granholtz.
A place where she could go find a dragon to kill.
Because the next time she saw that adventurer, it was going to be amazing.
Either they'd kill each other or get married.
Ophelia was pretty certain it was going to be one or the other. After all, the aunties wouldn't get off her back just because she hit S-rank.
She'd decide closer to the time which one she wanted.
kayenano
The Dealer.
Affiliation: Lotus House.
Role: Unknown.
