I stood frozen, staring at the glimmering dragon scale resting in my palm. It pulsed faintly, like it had its own heartbeat. A shimmering token of responsibility I absolutely did not ask for.
It wasn't just any scale, it was a mother dragon's scale, which meant one thing. Accountability.
Heavy, nerve-wracking, and inescapable accountability.
Great. Just what I needed.
"Keep an eye on you," I muttered, mimicking her haughty tone. "As if I'm the problem here. Your kid almost knocked me unconscious with his natural emissions, lady."
Still, I wasn't stupid. I wouldn't say any of that out loud. She was gone now anyway, disappearing into the endless blue sky. Her powerful wingbeats still reverberated faintly, along with the throbbing ache in my ribs from being bowled over like a clumsy tumbleweed.
Straightening my utility vest, I exhaled and turned back toward the buggy. "Right, Carl. Another baby dragon. Piece of cake."
That was a lie.
If there's one thing I've learned today, it's that baby dragons are anything but predictable.
Now, as I stood in front of the next den, my eyes fixed on the label that read Princess, I couldn't help but wonder what fresh challenge awaited me.
I approached the next den with caution, giving a wide berth to the narrow entrance. The label above it, delicately scripted in shimmering gold, read 'Princess'.
There was no mistaking it—this was the royal treatment, or so I hoped.
Name: Princess
Species: Chinese Dragon
Age: 2 months
Gender: Female
Element: Fire
Great. Fire.
The one element I knew would come with an unpredictable punch. The day had already been full of flaming surprises, and my chances of walking away unscathed seemed to dwindle with every step closer I took.
I tugged the strap of my helmet tighter, ensuring that my goggles were snug. No way was I risking any facial burns today.
No, this time, I was prepared. Or so I told myself.
I peered into the den, my pulse quickening when I saw the dragon. Princess, coiled around a massive pile of gold and shiny trinkets, looked every bit the part of her name.
Elegant. Regal.
With her long, slender body wrapped in shimmering crimson scales flecked with gold, she resembled a dragon straight out of a fairy tale.
A tiny crown of scales adorned her head—what I assumed was an involuntary fashion statement from a creature far too young to know anything about style.
Her golden eyes locked onto mine with surprising intensity. She tilted her head, the tip of her tail flicking in my direction. It wasn't exactly an invitation to sit down for tea, but I wasn't here to judge.
My job? Cake. And survival.
"Uh… hey there, Princess," I greeted, trying to sound as confident as possible despite the slight tremor in my voice. "Brought you something nice. Cake, just like a princess deserves."
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but the curiosity in her gaze was undeniable.
I held my breath as I slowly pushed the trolley toward her, my every move careful and deliberate. Her wings twitched, then unfurled slightly.
My nerves shot straight through the roof. Was she going to take off and try to roast me alive?
I froze. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to run, but I couldn't. Not yet. Not without at least trying to give this cake a chance.
She flicked her tail again, and the soft hum of her growl made the air feel electric. I gripped the trolley's handle and held my ground.
"Okay, okay," I muttered, forcing a smile. "What's the worst that could happen? You're just a dragon. A tiny one, at that. Right?"
Princess's golden eyes flicked from the cake to me, her expression unreadable. She wasn't going to make this easy.
And then—she nudged a shiny plate my way.
I blinked, looking down at the massive silver plate, the size of a small dining table, with absolute confusion.
What was I supposed to do with this? Was I supposed to serve it on a platter worthy of a princess? Seriously?
"Wait," I said under my breath, rubbing my temple. "You… want me to put it on the plate?"
She tilted her head, an almost smug look in her eyes, her little wings fluttering slightly as if to say, Obviously.
Okay, Carl. This is it. Don't mess up the cake.
I found a knife tucked under the trolley's shelf and began slicing the cake. No pressure. Just make sure it's perfect, clean, and presentable.
She was watching. Waiting.
I carefully lifted the first slice and placed it on the plate. It was neat, pristine—exactly what a princess would expect.
"Here you go," I said, doing my best to sound like I was offering an award-winning dish. "Bon appétit."
For a moment, nothing happened. The den fell silent, save for the soft rustle of Princess's wings. Her eyes glinted in the dim light of the den. And then, just as I thought I'd done everything right, her expression shifted.
Princess huffed.
Uh-oh.
Her tail flicked sharply, knocking the plate toward me with a bit more force than necessary. She growled low in her throat, her body tense. It wasn't a threat, but it wasn't a compliment either.
I swallowed. Had I done something wrong?
"Uh, what now?" I mumbled, wiping the sweat from my brow. "You want a second helping or—"
Before I could finish, Princess spouted a jet of flame straight at me.
I ducked, my reflexes kicking in just in time to avoid getting roasted. The blast of heat left me feeling singed, but thankfully, my helmet and goggles saved me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I staggered backward.
"Okay, okay! I get it! No need to burn me!" I yelped, raising my hands in surrender. "Sorry, Your Highness! I'll do better!"
Princess flicked her tail again, this time in what could only be described as a dignified pfft. She turned away from me, clearly annoyed, and settled back onto her hoard of treasure, her wings folded neatly against her back.
"Right. Well, that's one way to express displeasure." I took a deep breath and tried to think of what went wrong. What could possibly please her?
Cake was fine. Cake was perfect. Maybe… maybe it wasn't the cake. Maybe it was… the presentation?
My thoughts clicked into place. A birthday cake. A princess dragon. Oh no. How could I have missed it?
I groaned inwardly, facepalming.
"Happy birthday, Princess," I muttered, a touch of irritation creeping into my voice. "I really don't know why I didn't figure this out sooner."
Princess glanced over her shoulder at me, and something in her posture softened. Her wings fluttered gently as I began singing.
"Happy birthday to you…"
The instant I started singing, Princess's eyes lit up.
She swayed to the rhythm, her body slowly twisting in time with the song, a soft hum vibrating in the air around her. By the time I finished the song, her mood had shifted entirely.
She squealed and dove headfirst into the cake, scooping up a chunk with her claws.
"Right," I muttered, grinning despite myself. "Crisis averted. No big deal."
She looked back at me expectantly, and my heart sank.
Oh, no.
She was waiting for another slice.
As I sliced another piece and began the birthday song for the second time, I realized something. Princess wasn't just another baby dragon.
She was a character. Her quirks, her temper, and her love for cake (and maybe a little drama). Maybe these dragons weren't so bad after all. They were just… complicated.
"Anything for the royal highness," I sighed, cutting yet another perfect slice.
But as I started singing again, I couldn't shake the feeling that the next challenge was already waiting.
********
The Zoologist Guide on How to Treat Princess
Warning: Do not raise your voice to her. You have been warned!
Gear Up: Wear protective gear—helmet, goggles, gloves (just in case of flames).
Cake Preparation: Check the trolley for a cake. Make sure it's neatly placed.
Approach with Caution: Slowly push the trolley into Princess's den. Keep calm and move at a steady pace.
Serve the Cake Properly: When you're within a few feet of Princess, wait for her to offer a plate. Cut a generous slice and place it neatly on the plate.
Sing a Birthday Song: Start singing. Pamper her. This keeps her happy and cooperative.
Repeat if Necessary: If Princess nudges the plate again, cut another slice and repeat the song.
Leave Carefully: Once she's satisfied, back away slowly, maintaining respectful eye contact.