Apple snorted as he trotted along a narrow path hidden amidst the creeping foliage.

One as gold as the canopy of leaves rustling overhead.

It was a quaint sight. Although the autumns of my kingdom were splendid and fair, the length of time that the golden leaves of my forests could be indulged in was all too brief. Not here.

Beyond the doors of a library blessed by the magic of a missing dragon, autumn came during spring.

All around me, golden oaks stretched from one end of this enchanted forest to another, with little indication as to where one ended and one began. Beneath dangling branches larger than chimneys, gnarled roots coiled across what little could be seen of a path requiring as much Apple’s disregard for obstacles as Coppelia’s humming guidance.

Glancing up, I admired the leaves as wide as spades billowing to a gentle breeze, their soft outline lit by the midday gleam.

And then I saw a pair of deeply weathered eyes blinking at me from the bark.

The tree groaned, its heavy branches dipping downwards in a rumbling greeting.

I smiled as I offered a polite nod.

And then I directed my gaze ahead. That’s where it stayed.

“How curious,” I said, as I leaned forwards to shoo Apple away from the offered leaves. “Had I known your forests were not permanently on fire, I would have viewed Ouzelia in a more favourable light.”

Coppelia only looked amused.

Enjoying her role as our guide through this narrow trail, she skipped across roots like stepping stones in a river. Weaving between the foliage, her golden hair was occasionally lost amidst the leaves before she reappeared on yet another root.

Apple, no less graceful, barrelled over everything.

“That’s because you’re in the nice part of the forest. It’s the rough part you’re thinking about.”

“... Really?”

“No.” Coppelia flicked at a spiky branch. It retreated like a cowed puppy. “It’d probably make a great tourist attraction. But none of our forests are permanently on fire … usually.”

I glanced through the forest.

No smoke. But the familiar rustling ensured I couldn’t allow my guard to falter. I wasn’t quite certain what hedgehogs in Ouzelia ate. But given the abundance of leafy foliage, a princess must surely count as an exotic delicacy.

“I’ve little idea why you have tourist attractions in the first place. Is your library not supposed to be hidden? It seems very half-hearted about its secrecy.”

“Well, I think it used to be completely secret. But then obviously nobody visited. So the big guy opened it up to mysterious bearded archmages with big hats, saying they could visit in exchange for another book as an entry fee.”

“I see. That sounds appropriate.”

“Yup, that worked great! Except that there aren’t a lot of mysterious bearded archmages with big hats and since they can conjure their own food, they’ll pretty much stay until they’ve gone through everything. Like a caterpillar.”

“Please, Coppelia. You cannot compare mysterious bearded archmages with big hats to caterpillars. One wields the power of destruction, the other is a professional disappointment.”

“I bet the ones you met had tiny hats.”

“Worse than that, most didn’t even have beards.” I wrinkled my nose as the memories failed to disperse. “Peddlers and charlatans. The louder their claims, the quieter their usefulness.”

“Really? What did you get them to do?”

“Only the most trivial of trials. None of which has ever been passed. Frankly, if a self-proclaimed archmage cannot conjure the sugar cubes out of the Granholtz ambassador’s teacup while he continually tries to throw more in, then they lack the right to stand beside my parents.”

“Hmmmm … I think magical henchmen are usually used for other stuff. Like defending against assassins.”

“A task my knights perform with distinction. Especially as they wouldn’t spend every waking moment poring through the tomes of our library … including those so forbidden they simply refuse to combust despite being made of parchment and regret.”

Coppelia giggled.

For now.

Once she was at the Royal Villa, I’d immediately request her help with spring cleaning. And that included works of poetry so avant garde that even I failed to understand what I’d written.

“Mmh~ I suppose that’d be a problem. It is with ours. They get so much reading done on one book donation, the big guy started charging them gold instead.”

“A prudent measure.”

“Yup! … Except most archmages are actually dirt poor. Probably because royalty don’t hire them since they can’t conjure sugar out of teacups.”

“I hardly see why their lack of employable skills is our fault. Besides, if they wish to avoid poverty, they can just sell whatever enchanted staffs and priceless trinkets they have on hand.”

“Sure. Except it turns out it’s reaaaally hard to get change for enchanted staffs and priceless trinkets. Most merchants wouldn’t have enough coins on hand even if they sold their house.”

“Well, I fail to see why this dragon of yours needs coins in the first place. Does he not have an infinite supply to pay his staff by virtue of being a dragon?”

“I’m sure he does. Did. Once. Before he spent it all on books and stuff.”

I idly tapped on Apple’s reins. He snorted on my behalf.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“... Coppelia, is this dragon of yours poor?”

“Ahahaha~ don’t be silly. Would a poor dragon have an amazing library filled with the rarest books?”

Coppelia paused.

She quickly looked around her, then leaned in with her hand shielding her lips.

“He’s really bad with money!” she whispered at exactly the same volume. “Even though he’s a dragon, I’m pretty sure he spent all his hoard! Now I’m constantly being told we might need to eat beans for a month while we get out of the red!”

I gave a tiny groan.

A poor dragon was like a poor princess. Why even live if one wasn’t wealthy enough to be continually hounded by suitors and robbers alike?

“It isn’t so bad, though,” added Coppelia, her judgement clearly clouded by her long suffering. “Fleur is good at handling finances. That’s what the gift shop and the tourist attractions are for!”

“... To scrounge for coins like common merchants?”

“Exactly! Speaking of which, do you want to visit a cursed waterfall? Only 1 silver crown and you get to see your finger becoming all wrinkly and gross for a bit.”

“Thank you, but no. If you wish for my healing poke to bless a cursed waterfall, you shall need to remunerate me properly for the service.”

Coppelia nodded at once.

Then, she hopped off the log she was balancing on and lifted it up. Cheeks puffed up in disappointment was soon to follow.

I didn’t know what to be more aggrieved by. That she thought she could pay me off with coins found in the dirt, or that if all else failed, I couldn’t refill the Royal Treasury by exporting the badgers from my orchard to till the soil.

“No worries!” said Coppelia, pretending as if she didn’t possess a single coin of her own. “There are free attractions too! How about a lucky giant statue that looks like a fruit slime?”

“Certainly–as long as it’s in Witschblume.”

“Their lucky giant statues aren’t as good as ours.”

“Then I suppose I’ll need to make do. Just as I am by requisitioning the services of a heroine instead of a compass. Would you happen to know where this individual can be found?”

Coppelia casually booted a small boulder off the trail. It rolled several metres, before scuttling the rest of the way into the forest, hissing as it went.

“Mmh~ I do,” she said. “In a cafe.”

“Excuse me?”

“Witschblume’s heroine is usually in a cafe.”

I despaired at once.

Why, if my loyal handmaiden, my horse and even the person I intended to volunteer as my map were all gluttons, how was I meant to leave a bakery, let alone Ouzelia?!

“Her name is Elise Rowe,” she added cheerfully. “She’s sort of famous in these parts, even for a heroine. She actually works as both a waitress and a heroine. That means she’s real easy to find.”

My only response was to widen my mouth.

Forgetting to feel relieved, I only knew astonishment.

A heroine who worked as a waitress?

Why, that was absurd! As far as I knew, it was a profession. And that meant income.

For one of Ouzelia’s much vaunted heroines to be forced into additional work in an unrelated field suggested that their official saviours were not paid enough to afford even basic living expenses … and yet they still chose to do it!

Such virtuous spirit and selfless generosity! It was remarkable!

That meant … I could lower the stipend I intended to offer when I finally realised my farm boys-to-heroes scheme!

Ohohohoho!? Of course! Why hadn’t I considered this?

Indeed, their very nature as goody-two-shoes meant I could fleece them for every coin!

My … My scheme had just become even more cost-effective!

“T-That is … why, that is incredible news! I had no idea your heroines were so poorly remunerated as standard! I … I need to take notes! Coppelia, remember every word you say!”

“Got it! Also, I should mention that I think ours is just a little–”

“No, no, no. I like this direction of thought. Now is not the time to distract with facts. Which cafe might I find this heroine? Or rather, how long until we reach Witschblume? Indeed, I see now that this is an opportunity in disguise! Since I’m here, I can interview her regarding her salary structure and working expectations!”

A strange smile met me. Understandable, of course. I scarcely knew how to react to my own ability to carve opportunity from the claws of remorse.

Why, being here wasn’t an unmitigated disaster at all! … Well, no, it was … but I could at least make myself pretend that it wasn’t! There was clearly important research I could conduct regarding how I was going to see my replacement for the Adventurer’s Guild come to fruition!

“Witschblume isn’t far now,” said Coppelia. “We’re already at the edge of the forest. Mostly because I’ve been punting away all the things you don’t want to know has been trying to nibble you.”

“Excellent.”

“Now, as for the top attractions you can expect along the way–”

I held up my hand at once, stopping whatever litany of sightseeing suggestions she wished to offer.

“Coppelia, allow me to make this clear–this is not a social visit. This is not a personal visit. And this is most certainly not a diplomatic visit. I cannot under any circumstances be allowed to loiter for even a second longer than necessary. As a princess, I cannot just intrude upon foreign soil at will. This visit must be both swift and discreet.”

She merely nodded … all the while placing her hands to her brows as she squinted ahead.

“Hypothetically, if you had to choose between swift or discreet, which would it be?”

I thought for a moment, carefully considering Coppelia’s highly concerning motion.

“Please. If I had to choose, it would be swift, discreet and without fuss. After all, my menu choices are never limited. They only ever get bigger.”

“Oooh, that’s a good answer! By picking no particular thing, you don’t tempt fate in one direction or the other.”

“... Did it work?”

“Nah.”

I gave a sigh, expecting little else.

Only a few moments later, the leaves began to thin. And what was a golden forest became instead a pearly sky which could have reflected a lake.

True to her word, we’d reached the edge of the forest. A boundary as sharp as the border between my kingdom and all its neighbours, with the oaks simply vanishing rather than lessening.

In their place, what I saw were fields of berries stretching out before me, filled to the brim like vineyards in the height of summer.

Yet even so, it was neither the vibrant colours nor the sight of a town rising in the horizon which demanded my attention.

No … that would be the ogre.

Specifically, the ogre in a maid’s formal attire as she waited upon the dirt lane where it narrowed approaching the forest.

Despite her large frame, she was by no means inelegant. Her thick hands were neatly clasped together, her broad shoulders were back and her head and neck were held straight and facing ahead.

An immaculate posture lifted straight from the chalkboards found in the Royal Villa’s servant quarters.

But this was no ordinary attendant.

Although her uniform boasted frills, I recognised from the fine seams and the embroidery that this was not the garments of a maid expected to hurl me from my bed at my mother’s command each morning while pretending they only did it begrudgingly.

No, this was a maid expected to carry out reception duties.

One of higher standing and birthright.

And so it was as she offered a graceful curtsy bereft of flaws.

“Princess Juliette Contzen,” she said, her voice as deep as it was measured. “I am Lady Uxna of the Blood Shrieker Tribe, head maid of Witschblume Castle. On behalf of Duchess Cadence Joyister Loventeidt, I offer my sincerest welcome.”

She turned to the side, then gestured to where even in the distance, a white bastion rose over the town of Witschblume like my royal presence clearly loomed over Ouzelia.

“... The Duchess is expecting you.”