Sif Dies At The End

[03]: Don't Steal from a Dragon, Don't Step on a Snake

Forgiveness is of benevolence and benevolence runs in royal blood.

However, It seems that the benevolence in her family had already run out on Villhelm as Sif stared forward menacingly. Her bracelets' jingle deafened by the gurgling chokes coming out of the neck her hand was tightly squeezing.

Limp fingers twitched as the choked-out servant finally passed out, and a clinking sound was heard as his wide sleeve fell to his side. A single golden coin rolled on the ground beneath her feet as Sif loosened her grip, mercilessly throwing the thief into her snow-filled front yard.

The usual jingle of her jewellery was once again clear sounding as her surroundings, the grand palace the emperor had gifted her to live in, turned silent. She dusted off her hands, nine rings grazing against each other, then turned towards the group of servants assigned to her.

They were huddled together, fear clear on their faces as they flinched when she walked back inside her room after picking up her coin off of the floor. She rummaged through her neatly stacked treasure chests then walked back out.

"Take, only when I hand you something of mine."

She said in foreign tongue as she threw a handful of golden coins at the terrified, now kneeling group. Then, she snapped her fingers, a blue flame igniting on top of her index finger, which she flickered towards the still passed-out servant. Once meeting skin, the fire ate away at his right hand and he came to, releasing a painful cry as he rolled in the snow trying to put down the flame.

"If you otherwise take something of mine, I will off your hand."

She deadpanned then dismissed the servants who first hesitated then scrambled to collect their reward for spending all day neatly settling her treasure within her new palace. They mumbled words of gratitude, still laced with an undertone of fear, as they bowed profusely before picking up the burned thief and scurrying away.

A paradox of unsatiable greed and bursts of grand generosity, that was Sif.

She was the product of a dragon being born and raised in a munificent family. A case of actualized cognitive dissonance was her most fitting description as she stared at the ground, where her gold had been scattered moments ago, grieving its loss.

Sure, just this morning, she was gifted a palace, yards of embroidered silk, hundreds of decorative boxes of jade jewellery, golden furniture, curtains of stringed gemstones, precious painted scrolls and room dividers along with ceramic plates and silver utensils.

But, her mind was still stuck on the afterimage of her precious coins.

The emperor's forbidden city was much grander and stronger than her own kingdom, so of course, his gestures of hospitality were quite extravagant. Especially since he seemed quite fond of Sif.

He had personally catered to her from the moment she landed on his land, never even letting his own sons, arguably the reason why she was here, get a word in or even have a proper interaction with the western princess.

Not that she paid them any attention either, she was way too distracted by the shiny items that were replaced with even shinier items that the emperor had droves of servants deliver to her gifted castle since her arrival.

Certainly, she was raised sheltered, but she wasn't naïve enough to think that the emperor's generosity was a simple kind-hearted gesture. Although Valland, her kingdom, wasn't as powerful as his, it still had a guardian dragon.

A rare guardian dragon that was the last of its kind.

The wise emperor knew better than to make an enemy out of her, especially since she had graciously offered to be part of his legacy. With her around, his already legendary dynasty would be beyond unparallel.