BIHNM 06

Chapter 6

Work Begins (Before)

A sharp cry of a riding dragon — “Kyu, kyu!” — woke me up.

Riding dragons communicate with one another through their cries. Judging by the high pitch of this one, it’s probably a female.

I turned over in bed. The blankets felt unusually warm and comfortable today, making it hard to get up.

“…”

I was about to drift back to sleep when another cry came from the distance, tugging me back from the edge of slumber.

That soft, pleading sound belonged to a young dragon.

…Strange. The dragons in our village were mostly old; there shouldn’t be any young ones with that much energy to spare.

“Ah!”

I jolted upright.
This wasn’t the dragon riders’ village — this was the Browning Ducal Estate!

The moment the truth hit me, blood rushed through my body, and my mind snapped fully awake.

No matter where I am, what I must do remains the same:
—I have to care for the riding dragons!

I hurriedly grabbed my clothes, pulled them on over my head, and dashed down the stairs. Buttoning my cuffs as I ran, I burst out into the garden—

There, in the crisp morning air glittering with sunlight, stood a shining dragon.

It was Polka.

She seemed rather displeased, gnawing on the fence and swishing her tail irritably.

From the drawing room window, she had looked free to run around, but apparently there was a fence keeping her from going near the mansion. Perhaps that’s what annoyed her.

“Good morning.”

I called out to her. Polka’s amber eyes flicked toward me as if to say, “You’re still here?”

“I’m your caretaker starting today. Please take care of me.”

“Kyu!”

When I took a step closer, Polka let out a low, warning cry.

Being the mount of an active Knight Commander, her rank among dragons must be very high — her territorial instincts, strong.

I had never cared for a young dragon before. The ones I had tended until now were old and calm, with an almost wise understanding of their place in the world.

They might show a hint of ferocity, but they would soon settle and accept me.

“I mean you no harm…”

I spread my arms and showed both palms.
Polka stopped growling and craned her long neck forward, studying my face intently.

I couldn’t be sure she understood my words, but at least my gestures seemed to tell her I wasn’t an enemy. She no longer felt hostile.

“I thought so yesterday too, but… you really are beautiful.”

Of course, a dragon’s sense of beauty is different from a human’s — but as expected of a knight’s partner, her scales shone, her claws gleamed, and her almond-shaped eyes sparkled like jewels.

“Kyu.”

Perhaps she understood my praise; she lifted her feet with a pleased little stomp.
It looked like I wouldn’t be kicked out after just one day.

The key to the small shed by the garden was left unlocked. Inside, I found a notebook filled with messages from previous caretakers.

Following the notes, I gave Polka her meal, but she didn’t eat much for a dragon her age.

“That’s strange…”

Since she hadn’t been here long, maybe she was still tired from adjusting to a new environment.

When I tried to take her food bowl away, asking, “You don’t like this?” she grabbed the edge firmly with her teeth and refused to let go.

“So you are eating.”

Food becomes the body — judging from her well-toned muscles and glossy scales, I thought she’d have a much stronger appetite.

As I puzzled over it, Polka suddenly opened her mouth wide toward me.

She didn’t mean to bite. If she had, I wouldn’t even have had time to think before being swallowed whole.

This gesture usually meant there was something uncomfortable in her mouth. I leaned closer to check, but she was standing in the shade, and I couldn’t see clearly.

Maybe I could find a magnifying glass somewhere — in the study or a storage room, perhaps?

Just as I stepped back into the mansion, I saw Lord Margus standing atop the stairs, arms crossed, looking down at me.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

I quickly bowed, awkwardly and too deeply. I couldn’t help but regret, once again, that I’d never received proper education.

“Margus is fine.”

“Yes. Good morning, Lord Margus.”

“…You’re up early. It’s not even six yet.”

“I’m sorry. Was I too loud?”

To match a dragon’s rhythm, one has to rise with the sun — sometimes even before dawn.

“No, being an early riser is a good thing. I wake up early myself, but I’ve told the servants they can start later, so no one else is up yet. …Breakfast?”

“Yes, though she doesn’t have much appetite. I was looking for a magnifying glass.”

Margus gave me a puzzled look. I realized my explanation was lacking.

“Polka seems to be bothered by something in her mouth, so I wanted to take a look.”

“You fed her!?”

His commanding voice echoed through the entrance hall.
Before I could react, Margus darted down the stairs faster than my eyes could follow and caught my hand.

“I told you to take it easy.”

“Ah—!” I squeaked, startled. He immediately let go.

“Sorry.”

“B-but… she was crying, and I thought she must be hungry…”

“That’s dangerous. Didn’t you hear what I said yesterday?”

It seemed Margus had come down himself to take care of Polka.

Riding dragons are both dangerous and precious. A dragon with a clear owner must never be handled without permission.

Still, since all the tools were already prepared, it felt natural to start my duties today…

“I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have acted on my own before getting instructions.”

“It’s fine. You’re unharmed — that’s what matters. I was worried you might get bitten or hurt.”

He wasn’t angry; he was concerned that I might have been attacked by Polka.
I glanced at his arm — his quick movement made sense. As a soldier, his reflexes were nothing like mine.

“She did threaten me a bit, but that’s all.”

“So, you’ve already made peace with her?”

He looked surprised.
…Well, I was chosen for this job. It would be insulting if he thought I’d run off just because a dragon was a little aggressive.

“Not quite. I just showed her I meant no harm.”

“She didn’t pull your hair?”

“No.”

From the way he said it, it sounded like some poor woman in the past had her hair pulled by a dragon. Fortunately, Polka showed no such tendency toward me. Maybe she was willing to tolerate me, at least.

“I see. I thought it might go well, but… I’m relieved.”

“I’m glad I’m not being fired already.”

“You? Fired? Of course not.”

It seemed that if Polka and I hadn’t gotten along, Lord Margus had intended to find me another position instead.

As expected of someone in command — truly considerate and dependable.