I'll Inherit the Gold Coins!

In the verdant heart of Lionheart City, within the stately grounds of the City Lord's Mansion, Joanna, the fifteen-year-old eldest daughter of the City Lord, was industriously tending to the garden. Donned in waders and a straw hat, she squatted amidst the blooms, a small hoe in hand, meticulously clearing the gravel that marred the otherwise pristine setting.

The garden had always been the domain of Butler Brandon, a man whose devotion to these flowers bordered on reverence. Even the slightest mishap, a maid accidentally dislodging a blossom, would set him brooding for hours. Whenever Joanna expressed a desire to pluck a few flowers to adorn her room, Brandon would preemptively deliver a potted specimen to her doorstep, sparing the garden's residents from harm.

Now, with Brandon gone, Joanna couldn't help but feel that he had taken his protective spirit with him, perhaps to a place where he could eternally tend to ethereal gardens. She mused, somewhat bitterly, that he hadn't left behind even a single flower for her, nor a will, though he had once promised to be there for her wedding and to help raise her children. Yet, after one unusually deep slumber, she awoke to find him departed to a realm beyond, leaving her to navigate her grief alone.

As she continued her labor, the memory of Brandon's insistence that she should smile more lingered in her thoughts. Her reverie was interrupted by a maid who approached with news that a visitor had arrived, a man claiming to be Brandon's master, bearing inquiries for Joanna.

"Butler Brandon's Teacher?" Joanna echoed, a note of surprise in her voice as she set aside her gardening tools and removed her straw hat. "Please, escort him to the living room. I'll join shortly after a quick refresh."

The maid nodded and departed, leaving Joanna to ponder the visitor's intentions. Could he be investigating Brandon's untimely departure? Quickly washing up, she changed into a somber black dress and proceeded to the living room, where she expected to meet the guest.

Upon entering, Joanna found herself facing not an elder, as she had anticipated, but a young man in his late twenties, striking in a purple-red ensemble that nearly mimicked a tuxedo. His golden-red eyes and elegantly backcombed hair captured her attention; curiously, it was a style Brandon himself had favored recently. Accompanying him was a small creature that, upon closer inspection, resembled a miniature purple crystal dragon.

"Dragon Knight?" Joanna wondered aloud, her gaze flitting around in search of Brandon's supposed teacher.

"Janice, come here," Joanna called to another maid, her brow furrowed with confusion.

The maid approached obediently. "Didn't I ask you to bring Brandon's teacher to the hall? Where is he? Surely you didn't lead him to my father's study?"

"Miss," the maid replied, her voice tinged with disbelief, "the young man there is Brandon's teacher."

Joanna paused, taken aback. She had heard tales of extraordinary individuals who preserved their youth through magical means, but encountering such a person in her own home, linked to her late buter Brandon, was startlingly surreal. Now, she had to muster her composure to greet him properly and uncover the reason behind his unexpected visit.

In the grand drawing room of Lionheart City's Lord's Mansion, Joanna stood taken aback as the revelation unfolded before her. The man in the striking purple suit, who had arrived with a little purple dragon, was indeed Brandon's teacher, not a guest of her father's as she had initially presumed.

Dragon riders, known for their formidable strength, were rare and revered, and this man, accompanied by a dragon, fit the description.

"What?" Joanna's voice trembled slightly with surprise. "This young man is Brandon's teacher?"

The man chuckled warmly, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he surveyed Joanna. "You are the child Brandon spoke of, yes? Not bad at all, quite cute, but a touch on the slender side, I must say."

Joanna's initial shock gave way to a prick of irritation at being called a child. She composed herself before asking, "Excuse me, but are you truly Brandon's teacher?"

"Yes," he replied simply.

"And you're aware that he has passed away?"

"Yes." The man named Lance gestured to the sofa opposite him, smiling gently. "Please, sit down. Let's talk."

Joanna hesitated, then sat, puzzled by her own politeness in her family's home. "Thank you...?" she mumbled, more to herself, wondering why she felt compelled to show gratitude in her own residence.

Lance's smile widened. "Child, you may call me Grandpa Lance, although, given my youthful appearance, that might seem a bit incongruous. Should it bother you, I could adopt a more fitting visage the next time we meet."

His casual mention of altering his appearance as if it were as simple as changing clothes was baffling. Joanna knew of his reputation among the Bronze Bounty Guild members as 'Grandpa Lance', a moniker that hinted at his enigmatic abilities.

Meanwhile, the young purple dragon, sitting beside Lance, seemed almost embarrassed by her human-like form compared to her usual fearsome draconic visage. She looked oddly at ease in her purple ensemble, which Lucia now realized was humorously coordinated with her scales, a sort of fantastical 'couple's outfit'.

As Lance and Joanna conversed, the dragon, named Lucia, piped up, her voice tinged with discomfort from her cramped position on the sofa. "Miss Joanna, may I lie down on the sofa? It's a bit uncomfortable to stay curled up like this."

Her request hung in the air, poignant in its politeness, highlighting the creature's awareness of human customs.

Joanna, still processing the surreal encounter, nodded absently. "Of course."

Lucia stretched out, looking relieved, and then turned her curious gaze back to Joanna. "Ah? Can you talk?" Who blurted out, evidently delighted by Joanna's polite acknowledgment.

The room filled with a light-hearted air as the barriers between human and mythical creature thinned, underscored by the playful banter about names and appearances.

"If you don't want to call me Grandpa Lance, Uncle Lance will do," the man offered with a gentle laugh, signaling an openness to forge a bond under less formal titles.

In the opulent drawing room of Lionheart City's Lord's Mansion, Joanna faced the man who claimed an unlikely connection to her late butler, skepticism etched across her features.

"Do you have to be my elder?" she questioned, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of defiance.

Lance chuckled softly, his gaze both knowing and gentle. "How can I prove to you that I was indeed Brandon's mentor? Well, I know not only your favorite pastimes and those embarrassingly adorable childhood mishaps, but also the precise age at which you last had an accident with your pants. I remember you playing with mud at one year and seven months old, your father was sipping tea in the garden while you explored the earth."

Joanna's cheeks flushed a deep crimson; these were intimate details that only her closest caretakers would know.

"That could be a guess," she retorted, a little flustered. "Every child plays with mud. What about something only Brandon and I would know?"

Lance leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Ah, yes. Brandon and I made a pact to watch over you, to see you married, to look after your children. He even planned to help you send love letters secretly once you found a suitor. And let's not forget how you once pilfered coins from his pocket."

Joanna's eyes widened, her earlier skepticism melting away. "Alright, you must truly be his teacher. But tell me, are you here to investigate the cause of Brandon's untimely death?"

Lance's reply came with a surprising twist of humor. "No, I'm here to claim the inheritance of some gold coins."

"???" Joanna was taken aback, her thoughts a whirl. Was this all some eccentric form of guidance?