Lucky Vasilisa

Lucky Vasilisa.

The Count, along with everyone else in the village, called her that. If only she could pour all that meager luck into this very moment. Vasilisa wanted to pray for luck now, more than ever.

“My name is Vasilisa.”

Everyone in the village chanted her name like a lucky charm. Vasilisa herself was no different.

Koschei’s eyes narrowed languidly, tinged with curiosity.

“But who are these enemies of your parents? I saw the Count and his wife alive and well.”

Koschei’s claw traced the line of Vasilisa’s jaw, leaving faint scratches on her delicate, sun-deprived skin.

“Hss…!”

Wincing, Vasilisa squeezed her eyes shut and muttered,

“They… they aren’t my parents. The Count and Countess killed my real parents and kidnapped me, raising me as their own.”

Her voice trembled with suppressed rage. It was a truth she hadn’t been certain of until she was thrown into the pit.

“And?”

“…What?”

Vasilisa blinked at the curt question. Koschei, looming over her, repeated himself.

“So what? Even if the Count killed your parents, hasn’t he raised you all this time? If he raised you as his daughter, doesn’t that make him your parent?”

A blunt question followed. Vasilisa fought down her bewilderment and retorted.

“D… Don’t you have parents, Koschei? Imagine being raised by your enemy!”

It was a bold statement, one that could easily earn her a swift death should it offend the dragon.

Fortunately, Koschei seemed more intrigued by her resentment.

“Dragons have no parents. We hatch from eggs and live alone. We raise no one, nor are we raised.”

Vasilisa was speechless at the unexpectedly callous answer.

All she knew about dragons was that they loved gold and treasure, and that they were wise creatures filled with curiosity.

Humans rarely saw dragons, so how could they know how dragons were born or how they lived? How could she explain this feeling of injustice to a dragon who didn’t even understand the concept of parents?

Koschei asked, as if prompting her to explain.

“Have you ever seen your parents?”

“…I don’t remember them.”

Her parents were wanderers, driven to the kingdom’s outskirts because they had nowhere else to go, like many other villagers. The Count and Countess, childless for years, had taken their child, Vasilisa, as their own.

“Did the Count and Countess starve you?”

“…No.”

Though different from the Count and Countess’s meals, she had always had coarse black bread and watery soup to fill her belly. The Count and Countess constantly reminded her of the value of their generosity. There were many in the village who starved, unable to even afford that.

A languid gaze fell upon Vasilisa’s despairing face.

“Then I fail to see the problem.”

“But…!”

At her vehement protest, the dragon spoke in a bored tone.

“You can’t even explain what you want… This tribute is proving to be quite dull. You’re not interesting enough to warrant waking me from my slumber.”

Muttering softly, Koschei indifferently withdrew his hand.

Vasilisa, tense and cowering, flinched at his movement. As if mocking her, Koschei turned away.

“Koschei…!”

Vasilisa cried out desperately.

Dragons slept for decades at a time. His descent to the village every fifty years must be for mere amusement after waking.

In fifty years, those Vasilisa sought revenge against might not even be alive.

His leisurely gait, as if walking on water, spurred Vasilisa into action. Overcome with fear, she scrambled forward on all fours and clung to Koschei’s ankle.

“Please…! Listen to me! I will chase away your sleep!”

If she could make those who had built her life on lies pay the price, Vasilisa would do anything.

Although she knew it was futile, Vasilisa’s desperate clinging caused the gold coins beneath her to tumble down noisily.

The dragon’s massive body stopped abruptly.

From the bottom, it was difficult to even look up at his towering form. Burning eyes, like molten gold, stared down at her from above. The pressure was suffocating.

“Anything…, I’ll do anything!”

Undeterred, Vasilisa tightened her grip on Koschei’s ankle. His thick ankle, as wide as her small frame, was too large for her two hands to fully grasp.

“So please, my parents’ enemies…!”

In an instant, Koschei lifted his leg, sending Vasilisa’s body flying through the air. Her grip loosened uselessly as she was flung away.

A sharp impact slammed into Vasilisa.

Her head reeled from the collision, and the world around her fell silent.

Asking the dragon, who didn’t even understand her resentment, to simply listen to her story was the wrong approach.

Regret for her rash action washed over her as her vision blurred and darkness closed in. Two golden orbs were the last things she saw, gazing down at her from the encroaching darkness.

* * *

“You’re such a lucky child.”

Vasilisa slowly raised her head at the voice above her. The Countess, Vasilisa’s mother, smiled benevolently.

Clutching the dirty rag she’d been using to clean the floor, Vasilisa returned a sweet smile.

“Of course, Mother. Who could be luckier than me?”

Her innocent tone held no hidden meaning, but the Countess quickly furrowed her brow.

“Goodness, Vasilisa. You’re in such a disheveled state again.”

Under her sharp gaze, Vasilisa hurriedly checked her appearance.

She wore a plain dress handed down from the Countess. The seams of the worn fabric were frayed, and the waistband was stained with soot.

At first glance, it resembled the Countess’s elegant barley-colored dress, but closer inspection revealed the dingy, dust-stained nature of the originally white fabric.

“You’ve lived in our house for over twenty years, and you still look like a savage. Blood will tell, I suppose.”

Following the Countess’s gaze to her own chest, Vasilisa fiddled with the frayed ribbon at her neck and lowered her head. Her water-bloated, chapped fingers quickly tied the ribbon, concealing her white collarbone beneath the fabric.

“And your hair… that dull, waxy color makes you look so unrefined.”

“I’m sorry.”

While she could try to improve her demeanor, the color of her hair was something Vasilisa couldn’t change. She had tried dyeing it with evergreen berries soaked in vinegar, but even that hadn’t worked.

“Always be mindful of your appearance. Your suitors still desire you, and what if unsavory rumors spread before you meet the dragon? Remember, your vulgar mother died of a disease she caught from a man. A moment of carelessness could bring misfortune upon the entire village.”

A large emerald ring glittered on the Countess’s delicate finger as she worriedly covered her mouth.

It was a gift from a marquis from the borderlands who had proposed to Vasilisa. Vasilisa hadn’t cared much for it, but the Countess had been overjoyed, and that was enough for her.

Quickly masking her unease, Vasilisa replied in a clear voice.

“I’ll be careful. You don’t need to worry, Mother.”

Satisfied with Vasilisa’s obedient demeanor, the Countess’s lips curved into a smile.

“Vasilisa, stand up.”

At the Countess’s urging, Vasilisa hesitantly rose, clutching the hem of her dirt-stained skirt. The small village was visible through the newly installed, clear glass window.

“Vagrants use their children to beg. Girls like you are sold to men when they come of age. A child born out of wedlock is destined to follow her mother’s lowly path.”

Vasilisa flinched at the Countess’s weighty words.

Vagrants, clad in rags, were scattered across the square, whiling away their time. One group fought over scraps of bread, while another gambled.

“But look at you, Vasilisa. Do you see how much effort I’ve put into correcting your base nature? Compared to them, aren’t you a lucky child?”

The Countess’s thumb and index finger pinched the skin of Vasilisa’s neck.

Around the time young Vasilisa could climb over the low garden wall, a gold mine had been discovered in this impoverished, mountain-surrounded village. The Count and Countess believed it was all thanks to Vasilisa’s luck.

Despite this, the village still teemed with vagrants and beggars. The Count and Countess never shared their wealth, so it was hardly surprising.

Wanting to ease her mother’s worries, Vasilisa forced a cheerful smile.

“Of course, Mother. Don’t worry. I’m happy to repay Father and Mother for raising and feeding me. And to marry a dragon… Could there be a luckier woman in the entire continent?”

Despite the dirt smudges, Vasilisa’s face shone like the sun. Every word was laced with feigned joy.

Reassured by Vasilisa’s confident declaration, the Countess withdrew her hand and dabbed it with a small handkerchief.

“Yes. I trust you, Vasilisa. I worry about how I’ll manage this large mansion after you’re gone.”

At the Countess’s anxious words, Vasilisa quickly shook her head.

“I’ll clean it so thoroughly that not a speck of dust will settle, even if it takes days.”

As the satisfied Countess disappeared down the hallway, Vasilisa quickly knelt and resumed scrubbing the unfinished floor.

Born a vagrant, yet living the life of a noblewoman, wasn’t Vasilisa fortunate indeed?

If she truly were as lucky as the villagers claimed, she would have found a diamond mine instead of just gold.

But Vasilisa, uneducated and unskilled, believed that dusting and polishing the floors was the only way she could repay the Count and Countess.