Chapter 2. Everyone Must Pay Taxes!
“And just how am I supposed to make him pay? Dragons have never paid taxes in their entire existence. He’ll probably just tell me to buzz off and go pray to some ancient Celtic god or something,” Maniella muttered, still reeling from the shock of the king’s command.
“Everyone must pay taxes! Especially billionaires. Does this scaly crook think he can hide from the tax collector forever? And I haven’t even calculated the luxury tax yet. That scaly Overlord has a massive castle, rare paintings, antique candelabras, stained glass windows, and all sorts of vintage treasures... I don’t care how you do it, but make that billionaire dragon pay his taxes! I’m giving you three days,” the king declared, fully embracing his authoritative role. Without so much as a goodbye, he turned on his heel and stormed off.
“Well, I’ll be darned! I hope he grows a tail... and horns!” Maniella whispered under her breath. “Though the queen might just give him those horns herself, for all I care,” she added, stomping her foot as she left the royal chambers.
“The kind king gave me just three days to collect taxes from a dragon,” Maniella mocked in a fake imitation of Dmitrius’s voice. She knew she couldn’t just show up at Overlord’s place unprepared. “There’s no getting out of it—I’ve got to make him pay, but how?”
The treasurer headed to the royal library, a treasure trove of ancient tomes, legal documents, old chronicles, and encyclopedias. Maniella wandered through the long rows of bookshelves and picked out a few volumes.
“Alright, I’ll definitely need the historical reference book by Lina of the Dixon lineage. It’s got everything about the rulers of our kingdom. Man, if only I could gather them all for a meeting...” Maniella grumbled as she pulled books from the shelves. “Oh, this collection of postulates by the lawmaker Eva will definitely come in handy. Let’s see what we’ve got here,” she said, flipping to the table of contents. “The Law of Dream Preservation, the Law of Happiness Preservation, the Law of Love Preservation, the Law of Life Preservation,” Maniella read aloud. “The Law of Dream Preservation, huh... If I can get that dragon to pay taxes, the king’s dreams will come true. Overlord pays into the treasury, the queen gets her new outfits, and the king will be happy. There’s your Law of Happiness Preservation right there. If the scaly one hands over part of his wealth, the love between the queen and king will grow stronger—after all, it’s harder to love a king with nothing to his name than one draped in an ermine robe. That’s another law checked off. But will I be able to preserve my own life when I lay out my demands to the dragon? Eva sure came up with some clever stuff. I wish I could slip through a portal to another world like Taris did, just to avoid meeting this billionaire dragon. Ugh, where do I even find a Moon Fairy to grant my wish?” Maniella mused out loud.
In one of the books, the treasurer stumbled upon an intriguing tidbit: Lara, the pure-hearted beauty known as Rosa—a powerful mage—had brought life to many wondrous creatures and even conjured up some cat-owl hybrids. The ancient tome included detailed instructions on how to summon natural disasters, banish beings to the Otherworld, or inflict a splitting headache, even on a fire mage.
“Now that’s some talent... If I had skills like that, I wouldn’t just collect taxes from a billionaire dragon—I’d straighten out the king’s head too, so he wouldn’t give me impossible tasks with a three-day deadline,” the woman pondered.
Maniella also found a study by Kateryna Fedorovska claiming that only a troll named Andrusykivna could defeat a dragon.
“I don’t need to defeat him—I’m not here to fight. I need something sneakier,” Maniella muttered under her breath as she flipped through the pages of the ancient books. “Maybe I could slip him some kind of potion to get him to sign the papers, or ask a violet fairy to cast a persuasion spell?” Her eyes landed on a large book filled with vibrant illustrations. “Ooh... The Encyclopedia of Allen Stels. Perfect timing. The king allowed folks into the forest, and there’s plenty of stuff to forage there. Why not? I could find and whip up some eryngii, shimeji, or deconica mushrooms for the billionaire dragon—or even brew some kombucha. He’d either kick the bucket or whatever dragons do. Since he’s got no heirs, all his wealth would go straight to the state treasury,” Maniella rejoiced in her dark thoughts. “It’s a bloodthirsty idea, but effective. A solid Plan B, just in case. Still, I should at least lay eyes on this billionaire and see what kind of character he is.”
The treasurer returned all the books to their places, taking only the encyclopedia on mushrooms with her to avoid accidentally cooking up something that would send her—or anyone else—rocketing to the stars or straight to the afterlife instead of harmless chanterelles or portobellos.
“Morning will show what evening hides. I’d better get a good night’s sleep—who knows, it might be my last,” Maniella said as she headed home.
Bright and early the next morning, the treasurer got herself ready. She put on her best dress with a plunging neckline, slipped on some earrings, and draped a gold chain around her neck.
“Let that scaly beast see that he’s not the only one with money. I’m no pushover either.”
In high spirits and a fighting mood, Maniella set off for the dragon’s lair. Along the way, she couldn’t help but notice that the road to the billionaire’s castle was paved stone by stone, far smoother than the path to the king’s palace. Her carriage glided along as if floating on water. Through the window, the treasurer saw endless fields sown with grain. Not far from the castle, there was a sizable farm where workers tended to livestock. And just before the castle itself, a beautiful garden sprawled out, complete with hedge mazes, statues, and fountains.
“Not bad at all for a dragon. He hasn’t paid a dime to the state treasury all these years, and look what he’s got,” Maniella mused, marveling at the stunning sculptures and the castle, which was nothing like the gloomy, gothic dragon den she’d expected to see.
On one of the green pathways, an artist stood painting en plein air, completely absorbed in his work. Maniella approached to get a closer look at the canvas and noted that she’d have to commission a portrait from this painter someday—his work was stunning, even better than the real thing.
A small orchestra played in the garden, their melody filling the air and transporting listeners to a magical world of music. Among them, Maniella noticed a tiny, talented violinist named Darynka, the muse of Serhiy Lyakhovsky. Her instrument laughed, cried, soared to the heavens, and then brought you back down to earth.
“I’ve stumbled into paradise,” Maniella said aloud. “Now I could die happy.”
“Young lady, why are you talking about dying? If you’re gonna die, do it somewhere else,” a man’s voice said right by her ear.
“And who are you? Why are you telling me where I can and can’t die?” Her enchantment with the music vanished in an instant, replaced by irritation toward the man standing before her.
“I’m the owner of everything you see around you. Dragon Overlord—the one and only,” the man declared with pride. Dang, he was handsome as a god!
“Well, you’re exactly who I’ve been looking for, you tax-dodging dragon,” Maniella said with an accusatory tone.