They were getting close. It seemed that the dragon was closer than initially thought. No rather, their pace was quicker than expected. Elise looked at the mountain. At the base of the mountain, a large opening presented itself to her. They stopped their march, and took a break. It was the final stretch.

“Alright,” Charles announced after everyone was finished with their meals, “This is the Revinought Mountains.”

“We need to decide how we’re going to enter. Obviously, not everyone can go in at once,” Elise took over.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” she continued, “We split into two groups. The main attacking force, and the backup team. Because we do not know how the interior looks, we do not know the space constraints inside it. So, within the two groups, we’ll be further divided into smaller squadrons. Any issues so far?”

She looked around at their intrigued faces. A few shook their heads, but the rest seemed deep in thought. There was an air of unease over them, as the moonlight shone down on them.

“Lady Elise,” an older, middle aged man said.

His face was peppered with scars, a mark of his experience. Or perhaps lack of experience, in a way. And if it were the latter, then he had some insane luck. Nonetheless, he had the mark of a master swordsman, something not a lot of the soldiers had.

“Yes?” Elise answered.

“I think we all should rest for the night. We have more than enough rations to last an extra day.”

Elise scratched her face. It was the truth, after all. There really wasn’t much of a reason to attack right then and there.

She nodded her head. Her parents had no objections to it. Just like that, she had assumed the position of leader.

Elise gave them the order to rest. They dispersed, and set up their tents. The mountain towered over them, though it wasn’t particularly high.

“Are you nervous, Elise?” Marianne asked as the daughter peeked through the tent flaps.

They all had separated tents. Divided into males and females, with some exceptions of course. Elise’s tent was one of those. She shared one with her parents, as did the other families within the army. If not, then those of the same rank slept in the same tent.

“No, not really.”

Elise removed her blade from her hip. She placed it down on the corner, and greeted her parents. Inside the tent, the two of them sat and presented their dinner. For the father, freshly hunted deer that he shared with the captains. Marinne, meanwhile, sliced into her own share of the venison.

“Come, eat with us.”

“I already ate.”

She made her way past them, and looked at the scout reports. So far, no sightings. That was either really good, or really bad. If there were no sightings of the dragon in the area, then it meant that the dragon was still asleep. Either that, or the dragon had already left. Elise didn’t want to think about that possibility.

The dragon flying away represented the worst case scenario. There was a reason why they wanted to strike whilst it slept. A dragon was more than a large, fire breathing lizard. No, a dragon was capable of destroying towns and even cities if it tried hard enough. A loose dragon was even worse. If one did flap its wings, and flew away, the only way to track it was to follow the trail of destruction it left in its wake. Ashes, potential forest fires, burnt down buildings. She didn’t want to even begin imagining the extent of damage it could cause. What’s more, it was a new species.

Heroes of the past risked their lives to record and note down behaviors, capabilities of the enemies they encountered. Elise might have been able to plan for that, creating a strategy that took all of that into account. Mages, warriors, tactics. But it was an entirely new species. Absolutely nothing was known about it. Not its behavior, not its diet, or even a slight idea about its abilities.

Regardless of what she wanted, they had to eliminate it. She walked over to her area, a small place just for her. In the corner of the tent, she removed her thin red vest and hung it up. Beneath, her sweat coated the white shirt that clung to her body.

She didn’t want to bath in the river. Not yet, anyway. Elise stretched, and her bones popped as she moved. Without the vest of the officer’s uniform, she looked very different. The only traces of that officer’s uniform were that white shirt, and similarly coloured tights.

And just an hour later, she left the safety of the tent. Stars dotted the night sky. She spotted the constellations of Rei, the goddess of trading, and the love duo. The goddess of trading was represented by a pair of weighing scales. Meanwhile, the pair of lovers didn’t have that much respect. Or perhaps more, depending on which perspective it was viewed from. They were represented as a man and a woman, grasping each other's hands. It certainly was symbolic. Elise took in the warm summer night air. Her skin was sticky, and she wanted to clean it off before her sleep. A spare set of clothes was snuggled between her chest and her arms.

Making her way towards the nearby river, she looked around. To be honest, it really wasn’t that large of a river. But there was no one around. None that she could see, anyway. Those tights came off easily. With her feet in the water, she rested for a minute. Then, her legs. The water was cool to the touch. Finally, she took off her remaining clothes. She washed her body with the nice, fresh, river water. No disturbances.

Just when she was appreciating the clean clothes on her skin, she looked up. The stars returned her gaze. Something felt wrong. She made her way back towards the tent, and reviewed the scouting reports again.

A new species. No sightings. She recalled all she knew about dragons. Powerful scales that were hard to break. Strong wings that caused gusts everytime they flapped it. Hot fire from their mouths for some species. And for others, it might have been ice, or something else. But what else? It couldn't have been possible right? An invisible dragon? She shook her head.

***

Somehow, he fell asleep. The carriage ride definitely was not pleasant. Not in any way. But somehow, most probably through some magical means, he slept. The last few things he could recall was the strange woman pouring him a glass of water. It really reminded him of an airline. To think about it, the water tasted weird in a way. But Francis just attributed the taste to him not having had any food or drink in the time when he was captured.

“Good evening, lord Rayleigh,” Grey greeted him as his eyes opened.

“I see that I’m still kidnapped.”

He shook the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. His eyes moved across his legs, and followed his own body up to his chest. A strange fabric rubbed against his skin. A red, high slit dress rode low on his body. A pair of white, detached sleeves left his shoulder exposed. He stood up from a velvet chair, his imprints left on it.

“Who was responsible for this?” asked Francis.

“I was, my lord.”

“So you mean that you stripped me naked and changed me? With the handcuffs and all still on?”

“That is incorrect. I exchanged your old shackles with new ones. While you were passed out, I broke the ones that Rafelgo put on you. I then bathed you and scrubbed your body all over. Finally, after getting you dressed, I put on a new set of shackles.”

When she mentioned it, the handcuffs looked like they were brand new. Not that the fact made it any better though. If possible, Francis would have preferred only being in restraints with his consent.

“What about the whole part about being treated as nobility? Doesn’t being drugged count against that?”

“I am surprised that you managed to figure that out. But, as my mistress has not acknowledged you yet, my lord, you are currently being treated as a prisoner.”

“Then what exactly is this dress? Why did you put me in this?”

“I dressed you according to what my mistress desires. Currently, she desires for someone who ‘looked like a beautiful girl using her charms, but will never choose any of her suitors’, my lord.”

“I’ll have you know that if the person I’m thinking of is my suitor, I’d choose her without any hesitation whatsoever.”

“The truth does not matter to my mistress. All you have to do is ‘sit there and look pretty’, as per my mistress’ wishes. Coincidentally, would you like to see what you look like, my lord?” Grey asked with her usual, monotone voice.

“Sure. It's not as if I can do anything.”

Grey nodded her head. She walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her. The room they were in was, for one, large. It was just slightly smaller than his own chambers within the imperial palace, but was much, much bigger than the apartment rooms he was used to. A large bed was situated by the wall of the room, opposite him. Was it supposed to be his bedroom?

“My lord. May I have permission to enter?” asked Grey, from behind the door.

“Like you asked for any when you took off my clothes.”

“I apologize, my lord. But why is that a concern to you?”

“Wha-”

He struggled to say it without blood rushing to his face. After all, how could he? A girl, whom he didn’t even know, drugged him. That same girl could have done so much more and he had no way of checking. Security cameras didn’t exist, at least not yet. There wasn’t any CCTV footage that he could watch back, nor was there any scientific testing to check if she did anything else. It was just her words, against his imagination.

“I- Well- You- You know...! You know what I mean!”

What Grey did was puzzling. She tilted her head, with a blank look on her face. That was her response to his incoherent stammering. Did she really not know? Was she that naive?

“I apologize if what I did has caused offense, my lord,” she offered a bow with her statement.

“Urg...” he muttered, after a good few seconds of continued stammering, “It’s fine.”

“I am overjoyed to hear that, my lord.”

Her words did nothing. Anything pertaining to emotion that left her mouth was immediately countered with the tone of her voice, and, what’s more, her unchanging face. Francis couldn’t help but doubt the validity of her words.

“So, what’s going on? When can these be removed?”

“I am pleased to see that you have no issues about the dress. I had thought that you would be angry about wearing a dress.”

“Let’s just say that I’m used to it.”

A small smile creeped out from her face. She knelt down on her right knee. From that position, and with the way she was dressed, she resembled a butler. A black vest over a white shirt, with silver coloured buttons. Her short hair hell down, perpendicular to the floor. Seeing it happen, and her waiting, Francis extended out his hand. She grabbed it with a gentle force, and touched the back of his palm with her tender lips. Once the entire ritual was done, she stood back up.

“I believe that is how servants show their allegiance.”

Francis sighed and took a look at himself in the mirror. The high slit dress had an open back, and exposed his delicate skin. Not only that, but basic makeup was applied on his face. Foundation, blush, eyeliner, lip stick.

“You’re not exactly wrong. But where is your mistress? I need to find her,” he said as he inspected his own body and face.

“Of course. Come right this way.”

Grey bowed her head, and led him out. The labyrinth-like hallways were next to impossible to navigate. Long passageways stretched into the heart of the mansion. They probably made several unnecessary turns. Until finally, they stopped. A grand door stood in front of him. Polished wood, and cut white diamond shapes.

The butler knocked on the door. From beyond, rustlings revealed themselves, and it sounded as though someone was walking. The butler knocked again, and waited.

“Yes, come in,” a deep, mature feminine voice said.

Grey nodded her head, and motioned to Francis. So her mistress was right over there. Francis closed his eyes for a moment, just to imagine what sort of situation he might encounter. A strict dictator? A benevolent ruler? Or was she a psychopathic woman?

“We are entering, mistress,” said Grey when Francis nodded.

“So this is the mixed blood.”

The room was much like his father’s study. Large, somewhat empty, save for the worktable. Several paintings were hung from the wall, some landscapes, some portraits.

“Nice to meet you, Ms..?”

“Ms Angelica.”

In front of him, that woman was dressed in long black robes. Nothing much stood out about her, and she was overall rather average. Of an average height, and body. Though, her face seemed to be on the better half of the spectrum, with her facial features and structure being mostly symmetrical. She pushed her long black, and incredibly dark purple hair behind her ears and continued.

“You may go, Grey. I want to talk to him by ourselves.”

The butler nodded, and bowed her head. Moving out of the room, she closed the door behind her. The windows were open, and birds chirped outside.

“Ms Angelica. I have a single request. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I brought you here for a reason. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So what?”

“I want to keep you here.”

“But I don’t want to stay here.”

“I saved you from your captor and this is how you treat me? Would you rather be tortured again?”

“Not particularly. But still, I want to go back home.”

Angelica moved closer. As she closed in, those black robes flowed behind her. What was she doing? Her eyes moved across his face and body, examining every part of him.

“Yeap. I want you to be mine,” she said, as though it was a fact.

Francis couldn’t quite help but cringe. Who was she to say that? The princess was one thing, but this was something entirely different. First of all, she kidnapped him.

“No. I want to go home.”

“Did you not hear what I said? I’ll make you mine. You’ll be my man.”

“Fuck off.”

Something snapped inside him. Was he always like that? No no, this time felt different, somehow. Like a cold whisper into his ear. Yet it felt so natural.

“Huh? What are you saying?”

Her face drew close. Good. His hands were firm and steady. He moved naturally, without a wasted movement. In a way, he imitated Rafelgo. But still, this entire thing was tiring. No doubt that Grey would have heard the slap across her mistress’ face.