Chapter 1
A Letter from Home
“Stay still, okay?”
When I said that, the riding dragon quietly lowered its head.
I parted the short, stiff hair with my hand, placed my palm over the injured area, and poured magic into it. The dragon purred softly, narrowing its eyes in pleasure.
── It seemed the pain had subsided.
“Yes. Now, let’s have the doctor take a look at you too.”
Satisfied that its pain was easing, the dragon slowly turned around and trudged toward the center of the pasture.
Riding dragons — creatures bred from small wild dragons native to the Kingdom of Grange.
For hundreds of years, people of this country have trained dragons, ridden them across the plains, and lived alongside them.
A riding dragon is a partner, a treasure, and a divine gift bestowed upon us by the earth — treated differently from ordinary livestock.
Those dragons who can no longer serve their duties due to illness, injury, or old age gather in this place, called the Village of the Riding Dragons, to live out their final days.
It’s my duty to care for them until they return to the earth.
Two years ago, I was sent here.
Born as the daughter of the Earl of Clarence — a family long known for its healing powers — but possessing only the faintest trace of magic, I was told,
“Since you’re a useless burden, at least do something to be of service to others,”
and sent away.
On the surface, tending to the dragons, considered divine gifts, is said to be a noble and honorable profession.
But in reality, it’s hard labor — caring for living creatures.
I wake before sunrise and spend the entire day running around the village on my two legs.
The sun burns in summer, the cold winds bite in winter.
In such harsh conditions, caring nonstop for beings that are dying — beings much stronger than humans and unable to communicate with words — is exhausting for most.
Only a handful can continue this work.
At first, I was lost and clumsy in my duties.
But now, I have no complaints about this life.
Sometimes I envy the glittering world I left behind, but these dragons need me — me, who cannot heal wounds completely, who can only ease pain.
Ironically, being forced into this life has helped me improve my healing magic, if only slightly.
While leaning on the fence, lost in thought, I suddenly heard a dull crash.
── A dragon was kicking the fence.
“Largo! Are you trying to escape again!?”
In the paddock two sections away, one dragon was kicking at the wooden fence.
It was trying to break the weakened part of the fence to escape through the gap.
As I approached, it stopped — perhaps remembering that humans are fragile and shouldn’t be harmed — and lowered its head guiltily.
“Stop that already. You’ll hurt your leg again.”
“Gyaou!”
Hearing my voice, Largo gave a short cry and took a step back.
Largo had been badly injured in the war and could no longer run.
He still couldn’t forget his former rider and tried to escape frequently.
Until recently, an elder dragon named Welfin had kept the others in order, but Welfin passed away of old age in early spring.
Ever since, Largo’s escape attempts had returned — and it’s been a constant worry.
“Come on now. Isn’t it enough just to be happy here?”
I climbed over the fence and reached for Largo’s reins. He gave a deep rumbling growl — probably thinking, Ugh, here comes that nag again.
“I’m not trying to be mean, you know.”
Largo’s escape would help no one.
Riding dragons are generally fierce by nature.
If one were to escape and harm a human, even by accident, it would be quietly executed.
If that happened, not only I but also his former master would grieve deeply.
Largo had clearly been cared for by someone of high status — his well-kept scales and the fact that he still longed for his master said it all.
“I’ll have to fix this fence, so for now, Largo, you’re going back to the stable.”
I sighed and pulled the reins, but the stubborn dragon didn’t budge an inch.
“Honestly… if you keep this up, I won’t give you the treats the young lord sent.”
At the word treats, Largo reluctantly began to move.
The “young lord” was a benefactor who supported the Village of the Riding Dragons.
He was busy, so he had never visited personally, but he sent donations and gifts to ensure the dragons could spend their twilight years in comfort.
His true identity, however, remained unknown — not that I ever felt the need to ask.
“Yes, that’s it… good boy.”
“Algerita, you’ve got a letter.”
As I soothed Largo near the stables, the head caretaker called out to me.
“A letter…?”
The Village of the Riding Dragons lies deep within the forest, isolated from the world.
Hardly anyone even knows that I work here.
So… who could be writing to me?
…A bad feeling stirred in my chest.
“It’s from your family — the House of Clarence.”
Perhaps noticing my hesitation, the caretaker handed me the letter with a grim look.
It didn’t seem like good news — the word URGENT was scrawled across it in red ink.
I carefully broke the seal.
“There is something important to discuss. Return immediately.”
Only a single line.
── What on earth does that mean?
“It must be something serious — something that can’t be spoken of openly. Don’t worry about the dragons; go home at once,” the caretaker urged.
Reluctantly, I nodded and boarded the one daily cargo carriage bound for the royal capital.
“I’ve returned…”
When I arrived home, the servants seemed tense — the air heavy, uneasy.
Something bad must have happened, I thought anxiously, heading for Father’s room.
“Excuse me.”
“You’re late! Where have you been loitering!?”
Instead of the warm smiles of my parents, I was greeted by harsh shouting.
“My apologies.”
Though the Dragon Village is within the kingdom, letters take time to arrive.
But to the people of the Clarence family, it must have seemed like I had received the letter and simply wasted time before returning.
“Honestly, you have no sense of propriety — that’s what happens when you never attend society gatherings.”
Who was it, I wondered silently, who decided I should be labeled ‘that eccentric girl who prefers tending dragons in the woods instead of attending social events’ and locked away in the countryside?
These days, I nearly forget that I even hold the title of an earl’s daughter… but I said nothing.
Working outdoors has toughened me, but defiance would only add fuel to the fire.
Quietly, I sat down on the sofa my father gestured to with his chin.
Both my parents looked at me nervously — why were they so tense?
── Why had I been summoned back?
Just as I wondered, Father finally spoke.
“Algerita. The Duke of Browning’s family has requested you.”
