Coppelia wore a fixed smile.

Holding her colleague in one hand and her scythe in the other, she blinked at the sight of me idly sipping a tea which had now risen from its previous rating to a balmy 3.5/10 due only to the warmth of my smile.

She then looked at the dragon.

Despite the rather large nature of the spiky, fire breathing behemoth in our midst, his figure could scarcely be seen. Sat in a corner overtaken by shadows, he plucked at a vine on the wall.

A sight as pitiful as it was appropriate.

Tail curled around himself, he huddled in much the same manner as a child seeking to escape the realities of the world.

One where dragon rescue services were at a premium. And the cost of poetry could only be measured in tantrums.

Yes.

The dragon … was sulking.

Ohohohohohohohoho!

“Welcome, Coppelia,” I said, gesturing towards the vacant half of the picnic table. “Come join me for subpar tea. I have just concluded negotiations.”

My loyal handmaiden looked between me and the dragon.

She blew away a single dishevelled strand of hair from her forehead. Proof of her trials at having climbed or hopped her way up the length of a mountain, luggage in tow as she rushed to my aid.

The gold spilling from her pouch?

Why, it was always there. And so long as she used it to pay for all our next bakery-related expenses, that would always remain the case.

“Huh.” Coppelia tilted her head and blinked. “I thought I’d need to whack something. But I guess that’s for tomorrow.”

A pink-haired librarian in a ruffled pinafore dress promptly flopped down, silent other than for a muffled huff escaping into the ground.

Then, a black scythe twirled in the air before neatly folding between a set of palms, squished together and vanishing in a way a dragon could only wish.

“Tomorrow will be a day of calm,” I assured her. “Why, I intend for us to do nothing more than admire the swaying fields of my kingdom.”

“Oh, okay. Will they be on fire?”

“There will be no fire.” I paused to sip at my tea, emphasising the point. “And if there is, you must seek out and remove all evidence of any flaming tea pots at the scene.”

“Got it! Keep everything dangerous for our own uses!”

I smiled, glad that such a diligent handmaiden could be relied upon in times to come.

“Exactly. But until then, the fair fields will be yours to admire. I’m delighted to say that after painstaking negotiations felt entirely by the moping dragon in the corner, I’ve secured an amendment to your contract regarding your right to undertake work in my kingdom–that is to say, on a long term basis.”

“Really?” Coppelia looked towards the dragon, of whom only his back could be seen. “... Wow, I wasn’t expecting that. What kind of work?”

“The most difficult.”

“Eh?”

I nodded seriously.

Throwing the excess tea behind my shoulder, I gently lowered the cup. It was already filled by the time it was set down.

“It will be the same work as you have conducted thus far. Except far more terrible. You shall soon be faced with the worst my father’s court has to offer. Treachery, deception, and the gall of those who sneeze directly into their hands as though that was better than literally anywhere else. Indeed, I shall not deceive you in regards to the scale of the horrors ahead. There is more than an endless mountain of free macarons which await in the Royal Villa. There is also snivelling, poverty and waxed moustaches. Only if you desire to brave the foul stench of those who infest the heart of my realm should you–”

“Woooooooooooo!!” Coppelia raised both arms in the air. “I officially get a holiday!”

“C-Coppelia! This … This is not a holiday!”

“This is amazing! I thought I’d need to stall for so long that the big guy eventually forgot what I was doing! Getting a holiday means I don’t need to keep checking for random bonks coming out of nowhere!”

A large, spiky tail which had just been curled around a dragon slowly rose. I shooed it away with a cough.

“This is not a holiday,” I repeated. “Merely a formalised arrangement of your time. You shall therefore be allowed to maintain both the title of a librarian–”

“Assistant librarian.”

“–and a handmaiden. Know, however, that this means a significant workload. You’ll have to assist me while pretending it has anything to do with aiding the library.”

Coppelia nodded … all the while spinning on the spot, a leg raised in much the same manner as a clockwork ballerina atop a music box.

“Woooooooooo! I’ll get to finish the Coppelia Guidebook!”

I let out a small groan … all the while lifting a tea cup in Coppelia’s path. It was promptly slapped into the nether, before reappearing whole upon the picnic table.

Fireballs, explosions and meteors. Yet somehow, the stubbornness of a single tea cup was the most impressive magic I’d seen.

After a few moments, Coppelia decided to come to a stop.

“Okay! I’m done~”

“Excellent. Because so am I. A dragon has been rescued. And so too shall a princess. It’s time we return. Now, please tell me you’ve a way to utilise that unspeakable black window of yours in a way which doesn’t induce horror in its passengers.”

“Nope~ but I’ve got good news! I’m pretty sure that thing’s one-way only.”

Whether I made a groan or sigh of relief, I’d never know.

It was drowned out by the sound of a dragon shifting from its corner of shame.

The wall he’d faced partially crumbled as a neck turned around, until a pair of narrowed green eyes was peering down at an innocently whistling clockwork doll.

“What unspeakable black window?”

“Hm? A black window? Why would I have a black window? Is it for food?”

“Coppelia.”

My loyal handmaiden clapped her hands together and beamed.

“Ohhh, that thing! Well, we were sort of in a rush, you know, since you were kidnapped and needed rescuing. That’s why I used the Clockwork Repository to–owie.”

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With a mastery of grace which should be well beyond anything this large, the very tip of a tail poked Coppelia’s cheek.

She puffed it back out. Somehow.

“The Clockwork Repository is not for personal transportation. Never do that again.”

Coppelia duly nodded, her smile in lieu of any explanation.

One I absolutely did not seek. Especially given the number of years I could count in the dragon’s ensuing sigh. I blew away the wisps of smoke as his attention returned to me.

“... Princess. You may rob me of my library staff, but not my pride. As you have arrived for my sake, I shall take it upon myself to ensure your timely … and also safe departure. I have no lack of skilled mages, nor magic myself if need be.”

“Oh? How excellent. I’d be all too delighted to accept.”

“Very well. Then I suggest–”

“Because I do hope you know a spell for conjuring water.”

The dragon blinked.

“Excuse me?”

I turned to Coppelia, trusting in her ability to leave no valuables behind.

“Coppelia? Did you bring Exhibit B?”

“I sure did!”

Clap.

An all too familiar window into the abyss appeared between her palm. And somehow, it was now even more ominous. The darkness came with its own smoke effect, billowing out as though fanned from a forge.

It came from something hotter still.

The undying flames of a dragon, wreathing Dawning Grace as the precious sword was unceremoniously flung to the ground. Coppelia shook and blew at her fingers as she sought to close her Clockwork Repository.

“Look at this,” I said, gesturing pointedly at the weapon as it began melting the tile it was on. “This is supposed to be my grandmother’s sword. It is now literally on fire.”

The dragon leaned towards the result of his doing. Jade eyes narrowed at the molten flames entirely covering the sword from blade to hilt.

Then … the dragon nodded.

“Hmm. Impressive.”

“Excuse me?!” I was aghast. “What is impressive about this?! How little I can use it? What am I going to do with a sword I cannot wield to frighten caterpillars without also burning down the leaves they’re nibbling on as well?!”

“That is for you to decide,” said the dragon, whose tone was filled only with a craftsman’s pride. “Though I would usually claim a weapon engulfed by my flames for myself, I offer it as a keepsake. A reminder of my generosity, lasting longer than any gold. Let it not be said that dragons know only greed.”

I raised my arms in outrage.

“You sneezed on it!”

“I did not sneeze on it,” came the indignant response. “Fate decreed that it should lie in the path of my flames, to be imbued as a weapon able to shape the world and engrave the pages of history. A gift with little equal.”

“Gift? What is the gift exactly? The handkerchief which comes with it?”

“It is a priceless heirloom set to burn away the darkness for a thousand years.”

“It is already a priceless heirloom set to light the darkness for a thousand years! Except the burning was manageable! This is not! … I demand you fix this at once!”

The dragon’s nose wrinkled.

“There is nothing to fix. It is functionally different, yes. But also improved.”

“I do not want functionally different! I want exactly the same as before! A sword I can return to a treasury without melting all that is inside it. Why, I can’t even pick this up! You may as well have set a barn on fire and given me that instead!”

The dragon paused.

“... Do you want a barn set on fire?”

“No!”

“Well, I cannot help, then. Aside from the fact it is galling to suggest I put out what I bequeathed with my own flames, I lack any spell to do so.”

“Very well. Then throw it in a lake so it can be doused.”

“No lake can douse this. For dragonfire burns hotter than any water.”

I jabbed my finger towards the dragon.

It leaned away slightly.

“In that case, you are now officially in arrears. I am down one enchanted heirloom sword. Unless you can make amends, I am now owed another hoard.”

A huff of disgruntlement came from the dragon. All the more so as Coppelia was joyfully waving her arm in front while hopping on the spot.

“Ooh, ooh! Actually, I know somewhere which can douse it!”

“You do not. There is no water which can calm the gift of dragonfire.”

“There is! And if you’d taken up the offer to soak your claws the last time you were there, you’d remember about it.”

A series of blinks met her statement. And then the sight of a dragon leaning away in sudden doubt, the uncertainty as clear as the moonlight reflecting off each scale.

“That is … unlikely.”

“Coppelia?” I sent her a querying look. “To what are you referring?”

She brought her hands together like a sister in prayer, her bright smile ushering away the night.

“Water drawn from untouched peaks,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “So pure that even water nymphs don’t frolic in it. And they frolic in everything–all except this. Water so magical in property, it can calm everything from aching knees to enchanted flames. These are the hot springs surrounding a famous bathhouse, so soothing that the attached gift shop sells samples as reasonably priced healing potions.”

My mouth widened.

“A bathhouse … are you referring to the one hiding your workshop?”

“Yup!” Coppelia nodded as memories of a past conversation regarding her workshop’s unique public identity resurfaced. “I mentioned before how popular the bathhouse is, right? … Well, that’s because of the enchanted hot springs!”

“Coppelia, no matter the efficacy of spring water, it surely cannot quell dragonfire … right?”

“You’d think so. But a full reservation list year round says otherwise. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing the hot springs can’t fix.”

She clicked her fingers, then leaned slightly towards me.

“Plus, you know, I’ve been meaning to visit. Now’s a great chance. You’ll love it. I can arrange for you to have a private bath all to yourself. It’ll be the best you’ll ever experience. An uninterrupted dip in a 3 x 6 metre tub made from naturally fragrant cypresswood followed by dessert, then dinner, then more dessert. Just soaking in the hot spring for 15 minutes will smooth over any imperfections in your skin, opening up your pores and delaying the onset of wrinkles for another decade.”

I was rendered speechless. Not least due to the idea that my skin could have imperfections.

Why … the dubiousness of the claims spoke for themselves!

After all, if this spring water was enough to soothe even dragonfire, then that would make it one of the most potent natural things to ever exist. It would be fought over by alchemists the world over. Such a thing was not only highly improbable, but very likely a rumour disseminated by the bathhouse itself.

“Let’s go.”

Thus, I nodded at once.

If Coppelia had business she wished to see to, then who was I to deny her? As her princess, it would be remiss of me not to maintain her loyalty.

Besides, I was certain there would be other practical benefits to her return.

The fact I was suddenly gulping like a goldfish, lips dry and body trembling?

That was normal.

I always did that.

“We’re already in Ouzelia,” I said, ignoring the random bouts of giggling Coppelia unfortunately suffered from. “If there’s anything still to be done, then we may as well see to it now. The damage is already done. What is another day?”

“Well, it’s more than another day. The workshop is pretty far.”

“... How far?”

“That far.” Coppelia pointed into the distance, where only invisible silhouettes existed beneath the curtain of night. “It’s way in the mountains. The proper mountains and not this one. I think it’ll take us about three weeks to get there. Longer with the horse.”

I was horrified.

“Coppelia! This is the end of our journey in Ouzelia, not the start of another! … As much as I desire for you to visit your workshop for entirely unselfish purposes, there’s simply no scenario we won’t be stopped by a thousand calamities between here and there.”

Indeed, even thinking about it was enough to make me faint!

Nothing good would happen from travelling the length and breadth of Ouzelia. Goodness knows what colour Apple would be if he ate too much of the things here.

And then–

A great shadow loomed overhead.

All of a sudden, I found a pair of immense jade eyes peering down at me. All hint of the brooding malaise was gone, replaced by a curious sense of … enthusiasm.

“Excuse me?” I looked up in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

The dragon chuckled in response … as once again, a claw reached out towards me.

“Making amends.”