Newly Broke Heroine!

Ch. 2: Coffee, Kindness, and Budget Cuts

"I see that look. Smashing things is not the answer."

Fiona let out a glare in response to her companion's gentle advice, and it was totally the wrong thing she wanted to hear. Smashing slimes into alchemical gooey messes was more in line with the therapy of her mood. "I didn't smash things, Greg. Even I'm not that bold."

They had made haste from the palace, partially at Greg's insistence back into the uptown locale, where her apartment was. The cheeriness of fall trees tinged with all sorts of red and purple notes, quaint brick streets lined with people bustling about in the morning calm and a leaf pile being tended by a city worker, were distractions that didn't break her mood.

She really wanted to jump into that leaf pile to revisit fun childhood memories. She let out an exhale and cooled her nerves.

"Thanks for having my back there. I made a bold move that might come back to haunt me, Greg," Fiona commented. Wide lanes gave way to smaller pathways, where the buildings were a little closer, and small lawns dotted the front of the buildings. They were working their way down the paved stone street, back to her apartment at the nice end of the city. A few kids played with a small leather ball in the street, with a tiny elf, a bird girl, and a human boy all playing what she surmised was a game of soccer.

"It was the only winning move. You're better suited to fighting monsters, not people. And you would have regretted it," Greg stated candidly. The sound of smooth stone meeting her armored boots was so loud–she couldn't wait to get back to her apartment and unwind. "I very much doubt he had his father's blessing before this maneuver."

She walked around the playing children to give them a wide berth, and her mood melted a little when she heard the kids were shouting with enthusiasm. Greg hurried behind her, scribbling notes. "The nerve of that creep. I risk my life, I risk my reputation, I pass up on social events to slay monsters and give a giant kick to the heads of despots and oversized lizards! But I get stuck with the bill? And the guild likely is also getting stiffed. That part burns me even more."

"The law is real. It is also a spite law to categorize dragon hoards as historical finds, subject to treasure tax. Which you have paid before, though your spending habits leave much to be desired," Greg stated with annoyance. "From the intrigue I've heard of the palace, Barry is not inept. Just not well-loved," Greg said, but he was chewing on his pen. Again. She sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "Look, Fiona, we'll get through this. You've gotten through worse."

"The tax man is the ultimate big bad! They never die, and they always collect! That makes them worse than dragons and demon kings! I haven't fought a demon king, but I'm gonna, someday!" she said while stomping her feet. "Stupid Barry. I can't believe Greybeard never mentioned him, other than being seventh in line to the throne. I might have seen him a time or two, but he kept to himself."

"Fifth in line," Greg corrected.

"Fifth, seventh, whatever! That guy wants my money, and knows he can get far more for those items, if he gets to claim them all when I go jail," she growled. "You know what? I'm calling him Raspberry from now on." She let out a low raspberry with her tongue for emphasis. She heard a stifled chuckle from Greg beside her. "How's he on the throne, anyway?"

"Lucy didn't want the crown, she's busy with foreign relations, Dave is a mage school dropout, and Mira wanted to be with her dad on vacation–she's so adorable, by the way," Greg added dreamily. "Edward is busy in the military. He's got a job he loves, and hates monarchy. So, guess who that leaves?"

"So, this dweeb with the bad haircut is the current ruler? Call Greybeard, I got his number on my arcane caller speed dial. I'd call Lucy but, ya know, she's made it clear she hates dealing with the court intrigues. Whatever that means."