The Guardian of The Dragon

Chapter 11

Originally, Joan was going to try to break her opponent's spirit in their first meeting.

But it turns out she didn't need to.

Joan sat down at the table and said

"Come here and sit down."

Joan's gaze followed Frea's every move as she sat down at the table.

"What's your name?"

"Frea."

"Just a first name? I heard you were going in as a foster daughter, are you still?"

"Yes. I haven't heard anything else yet."

"You said you were trained as a priest, so I assume you can read and write."

"Yes."

"That's good to know."

Joan continued to ask questions.

None of the questions were difficult to answer.

Her interrogation persisted, each question mundane yet probing into the intricacies of daily life: waking and sleeping routines, daily activities, meal times, and preferences.

But the questions never stopped coming.

She didn't have time to think, she had to answer the first thing that came to mind.

This entire ordeal served as an examination.

In her role as examiner, Joan meticulously assessed every observable detail: tone, pace, inflection, pronunciation, facial expressions, and eye contact.

'She's satisfactory.'

Perhaps it was because she hadn't anticipated it initially, but the other person exceeded expectations.

'She exhibits no noticeable flaws, and her posture is commendable, likely due to her prior training as a priest.'

With the foundational elements of posture and speech in place, the most significant hurdle had been overcome.

***

The king had granted his permission.

Tomorrow, Frea would meet and greet her adoptive parents and begin the adoption process.

"It seems I'll be absent from class tomorrow, Countess."

"Oh... I see."

A sudden realization struck Joan.

"That's right, this child, the commoner."

"So, after tomorrow, your name will be..."

"Frea Ante."

"Ante?"

No matter how diligently Joan combed through her memory, the family name remained elusive.

A family with no power and no social life, a family of nobility in name only.

She couldn't imagine they'd make a deal to take a commoner as their adopted daughter.

'I'm certain the princess would have handled it, but still...'

A surprising pang of remorse swept over Joan.

Just days prior, she had been consumed by frustration at the unexpected burden she had shouldered.

If someone were to inquire now, "How's that headache of yours?" she'd likely bristle at their lack of forewarning.

"' was merely intending to offer a few words of guidance...'