Chapter 22: Tiny Hungry Dragon, Mastered!

Valentina awoke because of a scent, then flew into rage at the strange noise.

“Hey! What were you just doing?”

“Teasing the dog… uh, no, let me explain.”

???

Valentina clenched her teeth, her vertical pupils locked on the white-haired boy inches away.

“What did you say?!”

This damn bastard.

Explain yourself!

Or I’ll tear you apart!

Herbert blinked, cleared his throat: “Ahem, I was trying the food-baiting method… oh, no, I was just gently waking you up.”

With that, he flashed the furious dragon lady a bright, cheerful smile.

“Good morning, Young Lady!”

At that moment, looking at this face—undoubtedly handsome yet utterly deserving of a punch—Valentina felt her scalp veins burst.

Snap.

Good morning… you ghost!

“Her!bert!”

The dragon lady’s roar shook the heavens, echoing through the entire cell, rattling Herbert’s internal organs so violently he nearly ruptured them.

Almost gave himself internal injuries.

“Cough, cough, just a joke—calm down, don’t get so worked up.”

Herbert rubbed his aching eardrums and sighed: “Here, I’m apologizing.”

With that, he tossed the roasted chicken leg into the cage.

Toss—

The meticulously roasted leg arced perfectly through the air, spinning as it flew.

!

In the instant before, Valentina, still roaring, reacted instantly—leaping up and snapping the leg in her jaws.

Crunch!

Though now in human form, her instincts remained dragon: she didn’t reach for it with her hands—she bit.

“Mmm?!”

Only after biting down did she realize, under Herbert’s amused gaze, that her action was inappropriate—she turned and glared at him.

You damn—!?

She wanted to say something, but didn’t want to let go of the chicken leg, so she mumbled through it: “Mmm, you, mmm—” (What are you staring at?!)

After quickly chewing and swallowing, Herbert seized the moment and shoved another leg straight into her mouth.

“Here.”

“Mmm?!”

As he forced the leg in, he lectured earnestly: “Good girl! Don’t talk while eating.”

“You!?! Mmm—crunch!”

Chew chew chew.

Valentina was furious.

But the chicken leg was just too delicious.

Chew chew chew.

Valentina knew surrendering so easily was wrong—beneath her dignity as a dragon.

But it wasn’t her fault—her mouth had its own mind.

Chew chew chew.

So Valentina tried to speak again and again, only to be silenced again and again.

Anger and hunger battled endlessly… hunger always won.

Chew chew chew chew chew—

After successfully stuffing in the fourth chicken leg, Herbert relaxed—he knew he’d passed this test.

Tiny hungry dragon, mastered!

His smile grew gentler as he kept feeding, murmuring all the while:

“Good, don’t talk.”

“Yes, lift it a little—don’t let it stick to your hair.”

“Swallow first, don’t rush—there’s more coming.”

“Ah! Slow down, no one’s stealing it from you.”

…

When the last chicken leg was offered, Valentina didn’t open her mouth—she reached out and took it.

“Oh?”

Her mouth was full; she stared at Herbert for a long moment, clearly rolled her eyes, then gave a light huff.

“Hmph!”

Then she turned, sat back against the bars, clutching the leg, and mumbled: “…Mm.”

Herbert: “Mm?”

What are you ‘mm’ing about?

Can’t you speak normally… oh.

Watching Valentina lean her head back, Herbert realized—she wanted him to cut her hair.

Just as they’d agreed yesterday.

“So… you want me to do it myself, huh…” Herbert blinked, feeling their bond had subtly deepened.

To be fair.

To others, Valentina was a dangerous dragon, a demonic entity requiring high alert.

But to Herbert, she was something else entirely.

This creature was a bit temperamental, a bit gluttonous, maybe a bit dangerous.

But beyond that, she wasn’t unpleasant.

She was obedient. Easy to soothe.

Her anger flared fast and faded fast.

She held grudges overnight, but forgot them quickly.

Honestly… she was kind of cute.

Also, though she looked messy now, her figure was healthy and well-proportioned, her features exquisite—even strikingly noble.

Herbert rose, returned to the warden’s room, washed his hands, then brought over the tools.

He pulled up a stool outside the bars, rolled up his sleeves, and gently prodded the fiery hair with his fingertip.

Once he confirmed no resistance, he reached both hands into the cage—one holding her hair, the other gently combing.

“Valentina.”

“…Mm?” (What?)

Herbert’s voice softened, free of his earlier teasing: “Has anyone ever cut your hair before?”

“…” Valentina’s lips twitched behind him; she said nothing for a while, then replied flatly: “No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

As if recalling something, her expression shifted, her gaze darkened, her tone grew colder: “Why do you ask?”

But Herbert didn’t react to her tone—he chuckled lightly: “Nothing. Just feel lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yes. Lucky.”

Herbert finished combing her waist-length fiery hair, gently pinching a strand between his fingers, lost in thought.

It looked rough and tangled, yet with minimal effort, the comb smoothed it into soft silk—such hair would make countless outsiders envious.

So he spoke without pretense, sincerely: “Miss Valentina, I’m honored to be the first to tend your hair.”

“Mmm?!”

Hearing this, Valentina’s expression flickered—some inexplicable impulse surged in her chest, a sudden desire to stop him from touching her hair.

Her heart felt strangely itchy—what was this?

Yet in the end, she forced down the odd feeling, held her ground, refused to flee in embarrassment.

Her lips moved, then she huffed, voice tinged with petulance: “…Hmph. You’re right. It’s your honor!”

His reply? A dry, exasperated click of his tongue.

“Uh… Miss, ‘tsundere’ is so last season. Maybe try being a little more straightforward?”

?

What season?

(End of chapter)