The morning after the ball, Rynhara woke up to blissful silence. For the first time in weeks, there was no Kaelira barging into her room with snarky comments, no Lady Vaelith shouting about posture, and no orchestra rehearsing to torment her with endless waltzes.
Stretching, she rolled out of bed and shuffled toward the mirror. Her reflection—a mix of elegant dragon princess and perpetually exasperated teenager—greeted her with a smirk.
"Not bad," she muttered.
Just as she was starting to enjoy the rare moment of peace, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," she groaned, expecting Kaelira or a maid.
Instead, Tiamora entered, her presence regal as ever.
"Good morning, my darling," the Dragon Queen said, her voice as smooth as molten gold.
Rynhara blinked. "No offense, Mother, but this feels like a trap."
Tiamora chuckled. "Not at all. You've worked hard these past weeks, and I've decided you deserve a day to yourself."
Rynhara raised an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"
"No catch," Tiamora said, her smile innocent. "Though I do expect you to use your time wisely. Perhaps explore the castle grounds or visit the nearby village."
"Right," Rynhara said, skeptical. "And by 'wisely,' you mean—"
"Try not to incinerate anything," Tiamora finished with a knowing look.
Deciding to take Tiamora's advice, Rynhara dressed in a simple yet elegant outfit—a flowing black dress with silver accents—and ventured outside. She wandered through the castle gardens, marveling at the bioluminescent flowers and towering crystal trees that glittered in the sunlight.
The staff she passed greeted her with polite bows, though she could hear their whispered comments after she walked by.
"She looks so much calmer today."
"Do you think she's finally adjusting to royal life?"
"Maybe she's plotting something. She is the daughter of the evil dragon, after all."
Rynhara rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile.
Curiosity eventually led her to the nearby village, where the bustling marketplace was alive with the sounds of haggling merchants and lively chatter. Rynhara pulled up the hood of her cloak, not wanting to cause a scene with her distinctive appearance.
Her mismatched eyes scanned the stalls, taking in the vibrant displays of goods: exotic fruits, finely crafted jewelry, and even enchanted trinkets.
She stopped at a stall selling pastries, drawn in by the tantalizing aroma. The vendor, a stout man with a kind smile, greeted her warmly.
"Good day, miss! Care to try our famous honey tarts?"
Rynhara's stomach growled. "I'll take two," she said, fishing out a few coins.
As she bit into the tart, the sweet, sticky flavor melted in her mouth. For a moment, she forgot all about royal duties and dragon princess training.
Her peaceful outing took an unexpected turn when she spotted someone familiar in the crowd: Reinhard.
The retired hero was dressed casually, his demeanor relaxed as he browsed a weaponsmith's stall. Rynhara debated sneaking away, but Reinhard caught her eye and waved her over.
"Rynhara! Fancy seeing you here."
"Reinhard," she said, pulling her hood down slightly. "What are you doing in the village?"
"Just passing through," he said. "Though I have to admit, seeing the mighty Darkness Dragon Princess blending in with the common folk is a surprise."
"I needed a break," she replied, crossing her arms. "And what about you? Shouldn't you be off saving the world or something?"
Reinhard chuckled. " Save the world ? Me? Ha ha!What drugs are you on? I'm retired remember? Besides even heroes, especially retired ones need a day off."
They walked together through the marketplace, chatting about mundane things. Rynhara found herself relaxing around him, their shared history bridging the gap between her past and present lives.
As the afternoon wore on, Rynhara suddenly heard the now-familiar mechanical voice in her head:
"Congratulations! Through acts of exploration and socialization, you have acquired the skill: Charisma (E)."
She froze mid-step, groaning audibly.
"What's wrong?" Reinhard asked, concern flickering across his face.
"Nothing," Rynhara muttered. "Just my life reminding me that I apparently need a skill to talk to people without terrifying them."
Reinhard laughed. "I don't know. You seem to be doing fine so far."
"Thanks, I think."
When Rynhara returned to the castle that evening, she felt surprisingly refreshed. Kaelira was waiting for her in the grand hall, her arms crossed and an amused smirk on her face.
"Well, look who's back. Have fun terrorizing the peasants?"
"No," Rynhara said, throwing herself onto a nearby couch. "But I did learn that I'm apparently charismatic now."
Kaelira raised an eyebrow. "Charismatic? You? That's a stretch."
"Tell that to the Voice of the World," Rynhara retorted.
Kaelira laughed, flopping down beside her. "You're full of surprises, Princess. Maybe this royal thing is finally starting to stick."
"Maybe," Rynhara said with a small smile. For the first time, she felt like she was finding her place—not just as a princess, but as herself.