The day was cool and refreshing, the birds were chirping, the morning sun was creeping high into the sky, and Fiona Swiftheart noted only one thing out of place on her way to the palace:

A lack of celebration and merrymaking.

She had to stop herself and examine the normal bustle of activity outside the kingdom palace, where people came and went on business, and to the adjoining office suites. The building was three floors of fancy granite and marble, stained glass windows, and arcane tapestries fluttering in the wind. The tapestries showed off the emblem of the crown, and a steel-colored griffin with lazy animations on the colorful blue fabric.

The usual chrome-domed knights that stood vigil on the grounds were standing there lazily by the entryway. One of them was leaning on his halberd, like he’d been out hitting the tavern a little too hard, and made a sound like a backed up washing machine, and was holding his head with his free hand. Other than that, it looked like a normal day at the steel-lined doors to the palace of King Greybeard.

“Hey, Greg? Did we get the day wrong? Am I early?” Fiona asked her assistant, who could not stop scribbling in his notebook. He peered up from the paper, a flash of puppy dog brown eyes and light brown hair cleanly cut to medium length, and looking remarkably average. “I mean, It’s Fiersday, right?”

“It’s Fiersday, Fiona,” he sighed. “I, too, am noting a lack of ‘partying’ going on here.”

“That’s okay, we can fix that! I went and beat up a giant dragon lord, stole his stuff, and ended a war! Oh, and I made a dragon cry. That has to be some cosmic-level event!” she declared with a gleeful smile, and took a deep breath while clasping her hands to her chest. She was currently covered in silver and gold armor that fit her elven shape nicely, with greaves and gauntlets to match. “Maybe the guild got here early, and they’re throwing a gala inside!”

“Or maybe, they forgot?” Greg proposed with a raised eyebrow. He kept peering up at the windows as if noticing something she did not. Her pointy ears twitched at his suggestion.

“C’mon, Greg, I went and beat the dragon lord! I saved Fiefdala from an army of cute, adorable little kobolds and their overgrown big brother, pain in the butt dragon. Kind of funny, how that group of plushie rejects gave Greybeard so much trouble, but whatever! Time to get some loot, and show the adventurers guild had his back!” she cackled while rubbing her hands together. But, fashion first. She tucked her wavy red hair behind her long ears–it was always getting so frizzy. “Man, the boys at the guild never thought a lithe elf girl could pull this off, or slay a bunch of monsters, but I proved ‘em wrong!”

“Your exploits are known,” he said drolly. “Actually, you don’t advertise it much. You should do that more.”

“Like, a lot?”

“No, in moderation,” he replied with a hint of a crease to his lips. His gaze wandered to the gold scepter with a black crystal embedded in the holster sitting on her back. “Um, that infernal thing is whispering again.”

“Eh, just ignore it! The stupid dragon probably listened to it in his quest to take over the kingdom, and look how that turned out for him! I just love saying I got his magic stick!” she added while skipping along. “Doug, the evil dragon, lived iiin the swaaamp… and frolicked in the brackish wastes, in a land called Sukitup! Little kobold minions loved that silly drake, and brought him tissues and chocolates, and other coping plates!”

“Please, not again,” Greg groaned audibly. “You have sung that infectious tune for the past two days. We understand you are enthusiastic over this victory.”

“I totally am!” she declared triumphantly while puffing out her chest, and waved at the guards as she walked by. They didn't even ask for her ID. They simply waved her through–she was on a first-name basis with Greybeard now, and everyone knew her here now! “I do feel a bit sad, though. I put all those big-eyed kobolds out of work! I mean, should I have given them a job in the adventurer’s guild–”

“No, and no, please don’t. You have a habit of picking up strays, dangerous pets, and bad habits.” She stuck her tongue out at Greg as the doors swung open to plushily furnished flooring, accent rugs, and beautiful varnished wood paneling inside the palace. “I still say, you should have brought the dragon lord here as a prisoner.”

“We blew up his lair, and took all his stuff! And his guys never wanted to work for him again, once they saw how much I humiliated him! C’mon, don’t be a square, it’s party time!” she declared while waiting at a set of double doors, and a guard in too-shiny armor nodded stiffly. “Six months, Greg! I prepped for that job for six months, and man, was it a cakewalk! I hope they have cake here for the event! And snacks!”

“They will likely have snacks, Fiona.” He let a chuckle escape his lips. “How do you eat so many snacks, and stay apex fit?”

“It’s a girly secret, Greg,” she said with a wink from one eye. She gazed down at her weapon, a shiny maul. The Hammer of Bahn. It had a wicked name. “Yo, Greybeard’s supposed to have a party! Where’s the glitz and glamor, chrome head?” she asked the guard by the business room. They didn’t call it a throne room around here. All work and no fun, she figured.

The leading knight pulled out a scroll that unfurled far enough to hit the marble floor. The attendant loved to mark the arrivals like he was giving a speech. “I don’t recall anything huge, but I may have missed the memo. Ahem.” the other guard opened the door, to make the call-out. “Now announcing Fiona Swiftheart, first of her name, champion of Fiefdala, conqueror of the dragon lord–”

“Oh my gosh, I have titles?!” she beamed and interrupted the man’s train of thought, and the paper crinkled as he halted his reading. “No wait, I want another one! Fiona, the awesome baker! I want that one, too!” The man scratched his head and looked confused.

“Uh…I don’t give out the titles.”

“Well, who does? Take me to that guy! I want that title, I saved the kingdom, so I want a cool one!” she said with a grin and leaned on her hammer. “Nah, you know what, put it on my schedule. Greg, write that down!”

“Done!” Greg declared and scribbled the task down on her to-do list. She was about to get a major payday, so shopping was next on the list, and she rubbed her hands together gleefully. She’d finally be able to have a girl's night out with her besties! She’d spent all her money on equipment for the task of fighting the dragon lord, but she hadn’t even needed it!

She wondered if she overpaid a little bit, and wondered what she could get for selling this new stuff! It was shiny, and expensive looking! Sadly, gold had been a little lacking in the dragon’s horde. Really lacking. It was like the guy had spent all his money on equipment, weapons, and armor, just to fight her! Which made it funnier when she left him nearly naked in a swamp, and took all his stuff!

The shiny chrome head hadn’t opened the door yet, but had been getting a few whispered messages from an assistant, who poked their head out every couple of minutes. She tapped the haft of her hammer, and leaned on it impatiently. “C’mon, I haven’t got all day! I’ve got shopping to do, and an early retirement to plan for! Did Greybeard decide to surprise me?”

“How can it be a surprise, if they know–you know what, sure, it’s a surprise,” Greg said with a small huff.

The guard talked to the assistant again and smiled. But it was kind of an unpleasant smile. The one that people who had it in for you used, when they tried to be polite in public. “Your presence has been announced, they’ll see you now–”

“Cool, got to go and get my loot! Then I got to go shopping, get a healthy round of drinks, and then a jacuzzi!”

She was buying a jacuzzi with that money. Magic had made life pretty livable in this place, without too much modern technology. The broad doors opened, and she skipped in and saw–

“Hey, who are you?” she demanded. She'd expected Greybeard--regal, middle-aged, handsome, and beardly--to meet her.

What she saw was that smug, handsome blond-haired kid that had been hanging around the king, and he was sitting on the throne! That didn’t bode well, King Greybeard wasn’t going to like people messing with his stuff! She might have seen him around a time or two, but he hadn't introduced himself. She skidded to a halt when she realized that wasn’t his shiny blonde hair she was seeing. It was the crown! “Also, where’s Greybeard? I thought he was tossing some big gala for me! And my buddies in the guild, they helped a ton, too!"

“Dad went on vacation, when he heard Douglas the Red sued for peace. He’s in a hot spring with Mum up in the north. I’m Barry Greybeard, the regent king.” he said with a smile. Not the polite kind of smile, either. It was the smile she got when someone was being a creep, without trying to look like a creep. “I understand your confusion, last minute trip, you know! I got the throne for a bit! It’s all a bit on the down-low, he wanted to make the announcement, but I was like, no, let’s not bother the people! It would just lend to confusion about who was leading the place!”

“Er…yeah.” She leaned on her weapon, and glanced around. There were two pressing concerns in her mind, first, where was the rest of the crowd, and accolades? Heck, what about some food, or some of those little appetizers with bacon? Shouldn’t there be more fanfare for the heroine and her friends, who saved a kingdom?

The second, was: Greybeard was a really bad last name for a guy who magnificently lacked a beard. Well, time to break the ice. And not call him beardless, Fiona thought to herself. “So, Barry, guess what?! The dragon lord’s gone, and I got his magic stick! I mean, I have a magic stick, but not his–you get the idea.”

Her face reddened when she spoke too fast, and she glanced at the powerful artifact, which swirled with dark powers inside the crystal in the end. It was trying to do that thing again, promising her power if she wielded it. This was one item she didn’t mind dumping on someone else. It was dangerous. It kept promising to make her the new dragon lord.

She liked the idea of being a dragon, but she’d beaten up dragons. She probably contributed to putting dragons on a protected species list, with the amount of those bothersome lizards she’d had to chase off, fighting her way through those endless armies. It might be cool to be a dragon lord, but then she’d have scales. Those just didn’t match her complexion.

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Barry laughed that awkward laugh, again. This guy was so socially awkward, and what pole position was he supposed to be on the throne? Fourth? Fifth? Greybeard had a few other kids she had gotten acquainted with. She’d quite frankly lost count, before Barry continued. “So yes, we thank you for your services. You have joined the ranks of heroes of this land, and we are forever in your debt.”

“Hey now, I take cash, checks, or money orders, just ship it to my little apartment in the upper quarter, my mage Bonnie will take care of it,” she replied and glanced around again. Not even a glass of champagne? Boy, this guy was being cheap, she missed Greybeard already, even though he’d been a bit too hot a flirt in front of his wife. It must be a cultural thing in this world. “Barry, where is everyone? I thought there’d be, you know, a celebration. Merrymaking! Wine, mead, those cool kielbasa things that King Greybeard had at that party this spring. I mean, c’mon, it was tough work beating that dude. I still have to finish taking inventory of all that stuff that stupid dragon had!”

“Yes, about that. Cedric, could you give her the envelope?” Barry said with an evil smile. That dummy with the chrome helmet too small for his head bowed stiffly, and handed her an envelope, with some papers inside.

She hated papers like this. Usually, when someone gave you papers like this, it was because you were being sued, pestered by some foreign prince pyramid scheme, or taxes. She read the papers, and her eyes widened as she clenched the doom scroll in her gauntlets. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, it’s unfortunate. The war with the dragon lord drained our coffers. Heroes from across the land have volunteered to tithe a certain percentage of their gains for the year to our treasury. The hero tax, I believe, is what my scribe called it. It’s all there, it’s baked right there in the laws of the kingdom.” Barry oozed smugness with his words. Like he'd been planning this.

She was losing her cool, because it was like seeing the credit card bill was overdrawn, and late. She started hyperventilating, and really could use one of those drinks that someone forgot to bring to this not-party. “Barry, this has to be a mistake. I haven’t been employed by the kingdom, I’ve been freelance, pro bono! I assumed all the risk, and was banking on the reward listed on every flier that you guys posted.” It had to be a mistake!

Barry smiled politely. “Well now, you did acquire a certain amount of items that previously belonged in the possession of the dragon in his hoard--who continues to be an adversary That counts as income, since his possessions were subject to forfeiture.”

Oh, no, this blonde kid was like a lawyer. She hated lawyers, this life and the last. And he was using loopholes to the effect of…

She dropped the papers to the floor, and stammered, wide-eyed at that huge number. She hadn’t racked up a credit card debt like that in her life, even her last mortgage wasn’t that far underwater. She shouted at the top of her lungs, in disbelief, and outrage, and likely woke up the hung-over guard hundreds of feet away with a scream of the doomed.

“I OWE ONE MILLION, SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND, AND THIRTY-EIGHT GOLD?!” Fiona shrilled. “That–I call bullshit! There’s no way I owe that much!”

“Your assistant forwarded the papers of your inventory, as required by the law,” Barry said unapologetically and steepled his fingers together. “You’ll find all that is in order. We also have excluded the current items you are wearing, in a gesture of generosity.”

“But-but–I saved the kingdom! There wouldn’t be a taxman if I hadn’t saved the kingdom! You wouldn’t be sitting on that cushy throne that looked like it came from an Ikea set in the medieval world, without me!” she stammered. “How the hell am I supposed to pay for this, that’s more gold than I’ve ever had at any one point! That’s more gold than this kingdom ever had at any one point!”

She did have one bargaining chip. All that loot! She didn’t need most of it, she could just dump it on them, let them sort it out, and problem solved! The last thing she wanted was trouble with the taxman. She hated them almost as she hated lawyers. Almost. “Barry, just take my cut from the dragon lord's stuff, it should more than cover the bill, even if that were the case!”

“Ah, sorry, the laws are clear. Cash only. Which means, transactions of gold,” he replied, and did that leering smile, like he’d just beaten someone in a completely one-sided battle. “Which means, you’ll need to sell your items. You’re a resourceful woman, I’m sure you’ll find a solution in no time.”

She glanced at the items on her list. “Barry, almost all of these items cost more to make than any one kingdom has in their coffers at any one time! Where am I supposed to find a buyer for these?! I spent all my money on equipment, and the stores won’t take them back because I tossed out the receipts!”

“That’s not a ‘me’ problem, Fiona, that’s a ‘you’ problem, as the commoners say,” Barry responded with a shrug. She glared at that muppet on the throne, and wanted to take her giant hammer, and teach him how humans played croquet back on earth--with earth-shattering hammers, and his head as the ball. But, that would probably cause more problems involving police officers, which were the number three bane of her existence.

She always ended up getting pulled over for speeding. Regicide would probably cost a lot more than a speeding ticket. She even got pulled over for driving her horse too fast! The new plan, my next ride is a dragon! No lawman would dare pull over a dragon, she thought while she directed her ire at Barry. She had a crisis on her hands.

“But, where am I going to find that kind of coin?! I’m a newly broke heroine!” she stated with a slight wail to her tone. “I busted my butt for this kingdom, and then you tax me?! That’s not fair! I was supposed to get fame, fortune, and hot guys to wrap around my finger! Your dad’s gonna get an earful for this!”

“Might I make a gentle suggestion?” Barry called out with a yawn from that lofty perch on his throne. She wanted to chuck that evil scepter at his head to knock him off of it. It might be almost worth it. “You could open a merchant business. Surely, you’ve made connections in your recent efforts against the dragon lord. There are bound to be clientele that would be interested in purchasing or auctioning such valuable items,” he said with pursed lips before motioning to his orderly.

“Go into retail?!” she screamed. “I’d rather die! Again!”

“Again? There was a first time?” Greg asked with a puzzled look on his face, and put his pen hesitantly to his notepad.

“Greg, ix-nay on the isekai-nay,” she hissed. Barry, however, didn’t waste a beat, and motioned to the guards by the door.

“The hero tax is in effect for a year. We expect monthly payments toward the principal. Failure to pay on time will be construed as theft from the crown’s treasury. A truly reprehensible crime,” he uttered with that crap-eating grin that she hated. It reminded her of her last boyfriend, boasting he could kill any monster. Said ex-boyfriend’s current location was in a dragon’s stomach.

She wished Barry would share the same fate.

“Dude, this is dragon crap, and you know it,” Fiona growled.

“I concur, Your Majesty,” Greg said before clenching his jaw, and he’d pushed his pen through the pages of his notes. That was unusual for him. “This is highly unorthodox, and I have no recollection of such means of taxing wealth.”

“Want my opinion? Sell the stuff, and pay off what you owe. You’re resourceful, and I’m sure you’ll find a solution,” Barry said with a shrug. Fiona started to reach for her hammer, and was about to set it from ‘humiliate’ to ‘harm’.

She lost everything in her life once. She was not about to lose it again.

“Your opinion is–” she started to yell, but Greg tugged her armored arm.

“Fiona, we should go and talk,” he insisted in a hushed voice. “We are in the presence of a king. It may be considered shameful to speak so harshly to his majesty, even given the less than fortuitous circumstances.” She glared at him, like he was part of the problem, too!

"Greg, I'm about to teach that mouthy brat a lesson--" she started to whisper in a low tone.

"You will win this fight, but you will lose everything else. Even Rikkard Greybeard won't be able to let it slide," he whispered right back, eyes narrowed. She wanted to snap back that she could put this corrupt brat in his place...but stopped.

Greg was absolutely right. If she treated this guy like her monster slaying problems, she’d lose it all, again.

Her apartment. Her adorable pet. The friends she'd made in this kingdom.

She'd lose that all, if she made this wannabe king a human pinball in his own house. Greybeard would instantly turn on her if she attacked his son. Maybe that was this brat's plan, to do something so outrageous, I'd overreact? I can't tell if he's a masterclass villain, or too stupid to live.

"Fine, say I don't. Then what? Beat him at his own game?" She took a measured breath, while eyeing the room. Not even a single arcane lantern to celebrate her, or Greg, or Jake, or half the Adventurer’s Guild, who’d risked their lives for this brat!

"You have friends to fall back on, and find a solution. I presume you have one?" Greg asked, eyebrow raised, in the quietest of tones.

She did have a solution. She hated it as much as she hated Barry. She needed to either auction these items for their worth, and then some, or…

She was going to have to run a business, again. Which for her, was a fate almost worse than death. "Yeah. One I don't like so much." She turned to view that blonde vulture in the chair, and summoned the courage to do something rather reckless. And buy time.

"I demand an audit!"

Everyone looked at her blankly. Even Barry was surprised. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I demand an audit! You jacked the tax rate, overvalued the items, neglected to take into account my business expenses, did not take my holdings and equipment depreciation values into the equation, failed to account for my charitable donations, and I could go on!" she shouted. She probably didn't need to shout to be heard, but this felt like it needed to be loud.

"You can't do that," Barry spat. Which was a lie, because his eyes twitched as he said it.

"Actually, she can." Greg picked up the cue and was scribbling something on his notepad. "I do her bookwork, and the math is wrong. In fact, her burden may be dropped to next to nothing, taking these into account. She is within her rights, which means, collection activities stop, until the audit is complete," he said with a smile. And Greg rarely smiled. "Would you like me to cite the proper section of the City of Fiefdala's tax laws? You should know them. After all, you worked there before your...promotion."

The look on Barry's face, a thinly veiled sneer, was all it took for Fiona to do an internal fist pump. "I'm the king. She owes money, per the Hero Tax."

"Yes, I'm aware of that spiteful law, now that you’ve jogged my memory. I did learn history, after all. But the facts do not lie: she is entitled to a defense."

"There is no way on Cepalune she can zero that amount." It almost sounded like a growl from Barry.

She turned back to the throne, narrowing her eyes at the placeholder king. “Oh yeah, Barry? Watch me. You will never personally see a copper from me, and anything I do owe, goes to the city of Fiefdala, who are collectively cooler than you. I’ll be back, and keep in mind I'm not the only person who you just hosed. And make sure you get those little sausage sandwich things that you guys made, this place needs more snacks!” She stomped out of the room, cursing kings, lawyers, and taxmen. Barry was a twisted combination of all of the above. At least she could buy time to figure a way out of this mess. "Also, try not to screw up the place while your daddy is in a spa retreat!" she shouted over her shoulder.

She hated this guy worse than the dragon she just left beaten and humiliated in a swamp. At least the dragon had manners. If he hadn’t been trying to burn down the kingdom, she might have gone on a date with him.