Home/The very suspicious chick of the Blue Dragon clan/ch 2

Chapter 2

Three days later.

In the rear garden of the main palace, two young maids huddled together, whispering.

"Did you hear? They say some bird hatched from the nest at Cheongyeonji!"

"Ehh? Is that true? What kind of bird?"

"I don't know either! But I've seen the master carrying something small in his arms, coddling it for days. Could it be that bird?"

At that, the girl with braided hair shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh, come on. It must be the youngest young master he's holding. They say the youngest was born quite frail."

Just then, another maid wearing an apron cut in abruptly.

"No, I've seen it too! What the master is carrying isn't the youngest young master!"

"Then you mean it really is a bird?"

The aproned maid nodded quickly at her friend's question.

"Yes, it's a baby bird! Pure white and really tiny! You wouldn't believe how cute it is when it cheeps!"

"Cheeps? Are you telling me the Blue Dragon lord is carrying around something like a chick? Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

"No! Actually, I just ran an errand a little while ago—I brought rice porridge to feed the baby bird. It was only one spoonful in a bowl the size of a soy sauce dish, but still!"

The other two girls' eyes went round.

"Really? You mean it's true? But why on earth would our busy lord suddenly dote on a bird like that?"

"Oh, that? Lord Huirim explained it, but what was it again…? It was something complicated…"

The aproned maid thought hard, then remembered the answer.

"Ah, I've got it! Imprinting!"

"Imprinting…?"

The girl nodded.

"They say all baby birds in the world think the first being they meet after hatching is their mother. That's called imprinting."

"Th-then, our lord has become the baby bird's 'mother'…?"

The maids exchanged glances and tilted their heads in unison.

It was certainly an odd story.

The Blue Dragon lord as a baby bird's mother…?

---

Completely unaware that she had suddenly gained a mother—not even a father—Aran caught a savory scent in her sleep.

"Pii…?"

(Oh, is that my favorite millet porridge…?)

As she smacked her beak dreamily, a single drop of sweet, fragrant rice porridge fell into her open mouth.

Without even bothering to open her eyes, Aran swallowed it down.

"Pii…"

(D-delicious… Perfect consistency—not too watery, not too sticky…)

After that, her beak automatically opened again and again.

"Pit…"

(Mmm, the temperature is just right—neither too hot nor too cold…)

By the time the bowl was nearly empty, Aran's tiny belly had grown even rounder.

Thoroughly pleased, Aran buried her head back into the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

Something—neither too soft nor too firm—wrapped around her tender newborn body, cozy and secure.

Then, as if riding a swing, her body swayed gently, pleasantly.

"Pwing…"

(Hold on, this is clearly a scam… I was supposed to ascend to the celestial realm…)

But for someone who'd been scammed, it was remarkably comfortable. Warm back, full belly…

How long had it been since she'd slept so soundly without a care?

In the end, as if washing away the fatigue of the past hundred years, Aran drifted back to sleep once more.

---

A week had passed since Cheongun began carrying the baby bird in the crook of his arm.

The mysterious bird, which on the first day had only a few stubby white feathers poking out, had now grown noticeably healthier after a week of good food and care.

Its fluffy white plumage gleamed with a soft luster, and its once mottled, wrinkled legs had filled out into plump, pinkish flesh.

Not that it was anything more than a fist-sized chick, still sleeping most of the time with its eyes barely open.

Huirim, unable to bear the thought of his lord personally tending to a small animal, had taken over feeding the bird its weaning food, but that didn't mean he accepted the situation.

Watching his master calmly reading a book with one free arm, Huirim grew increasingly exasperated and spoke up.

"It's not a Vermilion Bird, is it? Reading that book only makes it more certain, don't you think?"

"Hm? You mean this little one?"

The book in Cheongun's hand was a Vermilion Bird parenting manual: "The Art of Raising Firebirds: 108 Secret Tips."

A week ago, after deciding to accept the baby bird as his youngest, he had actually dispatched the Cheongsadan—the Blue Dragon Guard—to 'steal' it from the Vermilion Bird Palace.

Good heavens, his lord had commanded theft…

Huirim's shock was immense enough as it was, but he had been willing to overlook it if the parenting manual would help his lord come to his senses.

Yet Cheongun, with an utterly nonchalant expression, opened his mouth and shattered his retainer's hopes.

"Hm, it's unmistakably a Vermilion Bird."

Maddening.

There it was again—that Vermilion Bird fixation.

In truth, since Huirim had no knowledge of Cheongun's future sight, it was only natural that he found this claim hard to accept…

Unfortunately for Huirim, Cheongun was not only the head of the Blue Dragon clan but also the Lord of the Eastern Quarter.

As long as he didn't plot rebellion, he was the de facto ruler with full authority over all matters in the East.

Such was Cheongun, who now closed the parenting manual with a leisurely hand.

"Now, I've learned everything I need. All that's left is to find a nursemaid. It says Vermilion Birds must learn both walking and flying, so a nursemaid is essential."

Just then, the baby bird, which had seemed rooted in the crook of Cheongun's arm, suddenly lifted its head with a start.

"Pit?"

(What? No! I don't need a nursemaid!)

A nursemaid?

For Aran, this was a matter grave enough to shake off the very water demon that had clung to her for an entire week.

But since her words were still in beast-speech that no one could understand…

Cheongun stroked the chick's round head and said with a contented smile.

"Look at that—now she's opening her eyes wide. If only Hui would return soon to interpret what the baby is saying."

What?

There's a beast-speech ability user in this household?

Bring them here immediately—!

"Cheep, cheep-!"

(Hey, Blue Dragon? Just listen to me for a moment! I'm telling you, I don't need a nursemaid—!)

---

Aran squawked and fussed at the mention of a nursemaid as if she'd broken out in hives, but it was short-lived. Soon, she lost steam and fell back asleep.

Then, a long-forgotten memory from the past came to her in a dream.

"Oh dear, how dreadful. They say this one is the late youngest lady's illegitimate child?"

Long ago, in memories so faint they were almost indistinct, Aran was a disgrace to her family.

The youngest daughter of the Vermilion Bird clan, still unmarried, had one day suddenly laid an egg—and from it hatched an eyesore.

Her mother, frail and unable to survive childbed fever, had passed away shortly after hatching, leaving all blame to fall upon the lone, unwanted chick.

"A plain-patterned Vermilion Bird—what an absurd sight."

"Our poor, foolish young lady—to lose her life giving birth to such a creature."

"And those pitch-black eyes—what are they? With whom did our seemingly gentle young lady consort? Perhaps she was violated."

Rumors of scandal had already spread through the palace, so the remaining family had no reason to welcome a bastard child without so much as a single common marking.

About a week after her birth, Joo Sang-ryun, the head of the Vermilion Bird clan and Aran's grandfather, asked the nursemaid with a displeased expression.

"This one still cannot walk? Why?"

Even the nursemaid found Aran's deficiency shameful.

How frustrating it must have been to raise a pale, pitiful bloodline instead of a Vermilion Bird chick bearing the flame pattern that would carry on the family line.

The nursemaid answered as if she had been waiting for the question.

"The child hatched a full week later than the others, and her walking is even slower. She will likely struggle to survive…"

"Pit…"

(No, Grandfather. I can do it too. Just wait a little longer…!)

Joo Sang-ryun had no intention of considering the chick's plea. He simply pretended not to hear.

"I wondered what to do with this motherless creature, but heaven helps us."

"Pii…?"

(Grandfather…?)

"Let her live out her days without causing any trouble."

For Joo Sang-ryun, it was that convenient.

A lowly, shameful child with no known father and no inherited pattern—a short life for such a one was nothing to mourn.

With what amounted to the clan head's tacit permission, the nursemaid grew bolder.

"Peep…"

(Cold…)

She placed Aran's cradle against the chilliest northern wall.

"P-pii…"

(H-hungry…)

She also fed her sparingly.

Perhaps that was why, even at an age when Vermilion Birds would normally take flight, Aran could only wobble about on unsteady legs, and her family seemed to forget she existed.

Months passed, and the scorching summer of the south began.

The nursemaid left Aran's cradle out under the blazing sun and neglected her all day, not giving her a single drop of water.

"Pit…!"

(Thirsty…!)

When Aran, her head spinning, tumbled out of the cradle, rain fell like water of life itself.

"Pit!"

(Water!)

Soaking wet and bedraggled, Aran drank the rain as she staggered about, until she collapsed from exhaustion.

Just then, someone approached and wrapped Aran in a dry cloth.

"Good heavens, who are you? How pitiful."

The owner of that youthful voice was Okdan, a maid from the Sedapbang—the lowliest of the Vermilion Bird Palace's hired help.

---

The next morning.

Aran woke with a start, gasping for breath.

It had been so long since she'd dreamed of Okdan.

"Peep…"

(My dear Okdan… I hope you're well…)

Just then, she felt a chilly gaze upon her.

"Pik…?"

(What…?)

When she finally turned her head, a tall, slender youth stood there, looking down at her.

"You're the one—what are you? Already able to speak?"

He understands!

Aran had finally found a dragon who could comprehend her words!

Back   Next