Taming a Munchkin

Stupid! Idiot! Little did you know that mithril is tucked away in that dungeon!

“Fufufufu, fufufufufufufu!”

And while she was cackling with evil laughter—

“And this. Count Duron Harv sent you another letter.”

“Again?”

She pouted.

‘I should grow up into an adult who knows to concede and admit defeat,’ she thought, accepting the letter with both hands.

“But what kind of letters have you been exchanging with Count Duron Harv, Young Lady?”

Nanny Vanessa asked.

She most likely found it odd that two such characters who had nothing in common would exchange letters for this long.

‘If you ask what kind of letters they were…’ Recalling the (BEEP—) or (BEEP———) that Count Harv sent her, she smirked.

“I found out by chance that the Count enjoys composing poems. I let him know that I’d found his poem exquisite, so he continued sending me poems as an expression of gratitude, and we’ve been keeping in touch ever since.”

She twisted the truth a little since Vanessa was liable to keel over on the spot if she ever found out the actual contents of their correspondence.

‘I can’t make Vanessa worry.’

“Oh my! What a romantic person he is!”

Vanessa beamed, taking the girl’s excuse on trust, then turned around. Kynemeia watched her absentmindedly as she opened the envelope.

CLANK!

Something shiny and silver tumbled to the ground. On examining the object, her features drew into a scowl. It was a razor blade.

“Oh my, Young Lady. Did something drop just now?”

“No, I didn’t hear a sound?”

Her foot settled on the razor blade and slid it aside, out of her nanny’s sight. With a shake of her head, she added another star to Duron Harv’s level of resentment.

[ Duron Harv ]

Resentment level: 9/10☆

Danger level: 10/10☆

Oh well, if she could obtain mithril just at the cost of adding one star, then she’d gladly hand it out anytime!

“Oh, Young Lady.”

“Hm?”

Vanessa softly suggested to the girl wearing a wicked smile,

“Since he has taken to penning you such verses, why don’t you send Count Harv some flowers in a show of your appreciation?”

“Yeah! That’s a capital idea!”

Flowers would be good. She made up her mind to send white chrysanthemums to the count. That loud-mouthed, uselessly bullheaded brute.

‘Ha!’

And in an instant, she realised a certain truth. That the cursed Lyonne blood’s willingness to let resentment fester to achieve their desires was also flowing in her.

‘But it’s exhilarating!’

‘It makes no difference how often I earn money. It feels invigorating every time!’

‘No matter how much money I make, it’s not enough!’

A thrall to money to her very bones, she began twirling around in happiness, the letter from the Dungeon Bureau in one hand.

“Hm hm hmm, my mithril, my magic stones—”

Vanessa was lost in contemplation as she observed Kynemeia’s seemingly celebratory spirits.

‘Should I replace her dance instructor…’

The current one must be no good. There was no way her dear child’s innate poor dancing was incurable. She concluded that she first need to talk it out. She smiled and asked,

“Young Lady, shall I set to preparing your refreshments?”

“Mhm!”

At Kynemeia’s affirmative response, Vanessa quietly vacated the room.

‘Just how has the instructor been tutoring her these many years that she’s still so stiff?’

She had yet to be presented to high society, but nonetheless…

‘Who knows what might happen in the future.’

Vanessa went over all the instructors who would personally come knocking at Lyonne’s door in her mind as she walked down the corridor when suddenly, her eyes flew up to the windows where a black butterfly was fluttering about outside.

‘A butterfly?’

The creature looked decidedly incongruous flying among the bare trees in the chilly winter winds.

‘Why is there a butterfly in this weather…’

How peculiar. She stood in front of the window and kept a watch on it.

Story 8 Kshan Law

‘Just like Nanny said, it’s really difficult to find a guild.’

Holding onto a lotus-shaped board in the spacious bath, Kynemeia let out a groan and splashed the water with her feet.

Splash, splash—

The current climate throughout the nation could be defined as the ‘Spring and Autumn period’ of the Guilds.

The guilds had banded together back when dungeons began generating profit. But it slumped into a period where the centre of power changed hands back and forth when Black Night, the guild that dominated the industry during the early years, ceased to be.

Guilds lacking in manpower would run riot with scouting new guild members, and among there were some who would abscond with the magic stones after completing a commission to subjugate the dungeon.

‘There’s no worry about mithril dungeons, but the other dungeons could pose a problem.’

There are no monsters to be found in a dungeon of mithrils since monsters are only attracted to magic stones. And every once in a while, there would be dungeons without such monsters. For that reason, monster-infested magic stone dungeons required the power of guilds.

‘Well, I’m without a connection that could introduce me to a good guild too.’

If she had such connections, she wouldn’t have been a Lyonne…

‘The guild leader of Black Night went into hiding and will only reappear at the later part of the original novel, so I don’t even know where he might be or what he might be up to right now.’

She could attempt to track down every last Black Night guild member, but as they had laid down their swords the instant their leader disappeared, it would be a futile effort.

Kynemeia hopped out of the bathtub in shivers. The maids, Shane and Liline, were already waiting with a towel in hand, and they patted her dry while she was absorbed in her thoughts.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nopeee…”

Shane glanced at Liline, silently quizzing what was going on, and the latter shook her head.

“Ah, by the way, the messenger you sent has returned, Young Lady.”

“Already?!”

Kynemeia’s gaze swung up when Liline delivered the news.

“Quick, get me dressed!”

She was chafing at the bit to get going, stamping feet and all, that both maids grinned as they wiped her face with the soft, dry towel.

“Yes, Ma’am. We’ll wipe you down soon, so don’t be in such a rush.”

“Seems like the messenger brought back something nice.”

“Uh-huh!”

As soon as the maids were done wiping her down, Kynemeia tore off to the dressing room. Shane and Liline brought out the articles they had prepared beforehand.

“Which one of these dresses would you like to wear?”

“How about your hat?”

“How about the accessories?”

“And your hairstyle?”

Hmmm! She pivoted away from the dressing room with a bemused expression.

“That, that. That too, and this!”

Shane smiled as Kynemeia randomly singled out articles of clothing,

“We’ll dress you up in them.”

“Uh-huh!”

She answered brightly then promptly plonked herself on a chair with Shane and Liline, carrying her outfit and accessories respectively, at her heels.

“You can sit by yourself now.”

“C’mon, I’ve been able to sit by myself well since some time ago.”

When Kynemeia smiled and waved a hand bashfully, Liline pointed out,

“Last time, didn’t you take a tumble trying to sit on the seat of honour in the conference room?”

Choke. Her face crumpling into a picture of pain, she whipped around.

“Who?! Who spread the rumours?!”

“I heard from Sasha who’s in charge of the kitchens. And she heard it from Emma, the one in charge of the bedrooms.”

“Gil from the stables recounted it to me. He said he learned about it from Theo the gardener.”

‘Wait, that means all the servants already knew! The entire retinue of servants knew of my embarrassing stunt?! How come?!’

Her shoulders sagged, much the same way as a rabbit’s ears drooped.

“You’re 12 years old now, so your height and legs will also gradually…”

“Right, gradually…”

Liline and Shane smiled comfortingly at her but stopped speaking. Then they abruptly shifted the topic, suggesting her hair should be tied half-up and braided.

“…Gradually, what?”

“My, Young Lady, look how silky smooth your hair is.”

“So, gradually what? Why aren’t you talking.”

“You’re an absolute fairy.”

Kynemeia looked up reservedly, but the maids only went ‘hohoho’ as their hands moved busily.

‘Why did they stop talking? Are they implying I’m a lost cause? Even though I’m still twelve years old? Of course, I did feel that at some point I didn’t mature one bit, but there’s something called growth potential, isn’t there? Right?’

“Ohohohoho.”

“Hohoho.”

Only

‘Right?!’ Her pupils quaked while she submitted to their ministrations.

“Hey, what were you about to say after ‘gradually’ just now?”

“…”

“…”

But even after her hair was braided, she was outfitted, and a corsage was placed on her, she had yet to pry out an answer from them.