Chapter 13: The Correct Way to Court the Dragon Miss

“Miss Valentina! I’m back!”

When Herbert returned to the prison the next day, he was not met with the jailer’s verbal abuse.

What greeted him was still the same messy back of hair, and a cold snort tinged with lingering anger.

“Hmph!”

Herbert’s lips twitched; he was at a loss for words.

Come on, sister.

It’s been over a day already—still mad?

How about this: let the Emperor Wu Shi give you his spot. Let you, venerable one, bear the burden of turning your back on all beings.

But the fact that the Dragon Miss was still angry was well within his expectations, so he promptly pulled out the carefully prepared countermeasure.

“I brought you a gift. Made it by hand.”

He set the wooden box on the ground and opened it, revealing its contents.

Clang—

“Look! Turn around and face me. Stop being silent. Tell me—what exactly are you trying to achieve?”

Look, look, look!

“...Hmph.”

The Dragon Miss let out a soft snort at the sounds behind her, stubbornly holding her neck stiff, refusing to turn back—she had already lost to him once yesterday.

“Hmph, give up now! I will never turn around!”

Today, I’m terrifyingly strong—I won’t lose again!

Absolutely not... Huh?

Sniff.

Her nostrils twitched slightly, subtly stirring.

Wait—what’s this smell?

So fragrant, yet different from yesterday’s scent. This aroma is...

Sniff!

Valentina hadn’t smelled this scent in what felt like an eternity... Ah! Right!

It’s the smell of meat!

She turned her head and saw a pile of skewers placed before Herbert, who was gently fanning the aroma toward her with his hands.

And after noticing she had turned, he smiled, deliberately pinching a handful of white granules between his fingers, rubbing them lightly so the salt rained down like fine drizzle, bouncing off his arm before landing on the skewers.

Bling~bling~

“...Huh?”

Wh-what the hell?

Valentina’s eyes widened; her mind felt overloaded.

What did I just see?

Even a dragon who had lived for a thousand years had never witnessed such a bizarre gesture.

If you say he’s playing around...

His expression was serious, his movements elegant and fluid.

But if you say he’s seriously cooking...

It didn’t quite look like it.

Strange.

After striking his classic salt-sprinkling pose, Herbert pushed the wooden box forward and smiled. “Albert Family’s meal today! Herbert’s Honey-Glazed Skewers!”

“Madam, please, help yourself!”

Gulp.

Valentina snapped back to reality, swallowed hard, her gaze darting between the skewers and Herbert. “You... what do you mean?”

“Don’t worry—there’s no trick or scheme here.”

Herbert raised his hands slightly, showing his innocence, and explained with a smile: “It’s just a small token of appreciation—for your kind warning yesterday.”

“If not for your warning, I might have fallen for that siren’s trap.”

Herbert’s expression was sincere, tinged with a hint of post-survival dread. This made Valentina, who had initially suspected ill intent, suddenly understand. “Oh—so that’s how it was.”

“Oh—I see.”

So that’s what happened.

Looking at the earnest young man, she tilted her head up with quiet pride and let out a pleased little hum.

“Hmph~hmm.”

She picked up a skewer without hesitation and shoved it into her mouth.

The moment the juicy, fragrant meat touched her tongue, her taste buds—starved for centuries—exploded awake, surging with an overwhelming hunger!

Crunch!

Crunch!

Crunch!

Under Herbert’s raised eyebrow, Valentina, long unable to contain herself, didn’t even bother removing the wooden skewers—she bit them clean through and swallowed them whole in three quick bites.

She didn’t fear poison in the food, nor did she care about a few splinters of wood.

Dragons possessed stomachs of extraordinary power, capable of digesting and absorbing even stones to reinforce their scales.

“Mmm!!!”

Herbert watched as the Dragon Miss was effortlessly defeated by the food, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

In truth, the reason he gave Valentina was entirely fabricated.

Every word of it.

The real truth: even without her warning, the Siren’s trap yesterday could never have succeeded—the siren, caught red-handed, had been properly scolded and retreated, humiliated, into the water.

But what did it matter?

Herbert knew the truth. Freime knew it too. But Valentina did not.

Did the truth even matter?

Not at all.

In human relations, making the other person feel they were the reason for your success... that matters immensely.

In fact, people generally prefer those they’ve helped over those who’ve helped them.

Simply put, people tend to see themselves as wise, reasonable, respectable individuals.

When they help others, they feel their actions align with their self-image, amplifying their personal charm and generating pleasure, which deepens their attachment to the person they helped.

Herbert’s goal right now was to amplify the pleasure already stirring in Valentina’s heart.

Make her believe: it was thanks to you that I remained unharmed.

Make her understand: I am not ungrateful. Helping me brings rewards.

If one time isn’t enough, then two, three—until she fully gets used to these two truths.

Once these two ideas formed neural pathways in her mind... then... heh.

“Mmm!?”

Valentina had held back at first, trying not to appear uncouth—but now she had completely lost control, greedily gulping down the skewers.

As she stuffed more meat into her mouth, she still managed to ask between bites: “What did you put in this?! What’s this flavor?!”

“Onion. I added onion.”

The secret to delicious food is never magic—it’s spices!

Herbert had marinated the skewers with spices he brought from the Duke’s household.

In this world, whose civilization resembled the Middle Ages, spice varieties were still limited—and extremely expensive.

Though there were Druids skilled in plants, they preferred studying techniques to accelerate growth rather than developing culinary spices.

In many places, spices could be traded for their weight in gold!

Beyond nobility, ordinary people never encountered spices. Their food was mostly eaten raw—fishy, dry, bland.

His lavish use of spices was something Valentina had never tasted before.

“Delicious?”

“Mmm.”

“Want more?”

“Mmm!”

Watching Valentina completely enthralled, Herbert suddenly asked his final question.

“Then if you stop swearing from now on, I’ll send you food regularly. Deal?”

“Mmm... Huh?”

Yesterday I only slept three hours, went out to meet old classmates during the day—tired and with a cold, writing was agony.

But as an apology for the late update, I added five hundred extra words.

Tomorrow will be late too, but earlier than today...





(End of chapter)