The Dragon’s Soulmate is a Mushroom Princess! Volume 3, page 1
Table of Contents
Copyright
Character Page
Prologue
Chapter 1: Unwitting Love Talk and the Spring of Romance
Chapter 2: Get Accustomed to It Bit by Bit, Okay?
Chapter 3: Memories of the Accident and a Strange Feeling
Chapter 4: The Oreillian Royal Family and a Mushroom Greeting
Chapter 5: The King and the Mushroom Complex
Chapter 6: I’m Sorry
Chapter 7: I’m By Your Side
Chapter 8: The Source of The Power that Supports a Nation
Chapter 9: On Edge for a Different Reason
Chapter 10: I Want to Get Married Soon, Okay?
Chapter 11: Wishing at the Prayer Spring
Chapter 12: I Am Cute. I Am Capable.
Chapter 13: Even So, I Want to Be with You
Chapter 14: Mushroom Signposts
Chapter 15: The King of the Four Divine Protections
Chapter 16: You’ll Pay for This
Chapter 17: Agnes’s Wish
Epilogue
Short Story: A Dragon Cannot Lose His Dragonmate
Afterword
Other Series
The Dragon’s Soulmate is a Mushroom Princess! Volume 3
Hanami Nishine
Translation by Evie Lund
Illustration by poporucha
Title Design by Arbash Mughal
Editing by Tom Speelman
Proofreading by A.M. Perrone and Charis Messier
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The Dragon’s Soulmate is a Mushroom Princess! Volume 3
©2023 Hanami Nishine
English translation rights reserved by
Cross Infinite World.
English translation ©2023 Cross Infinite World
All rights reserved. In accordance with U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email below.
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First Digital Edition: August 2023
ISBN-13: 979-8-88560-079-8
Prologue
“A Dragonmate’s love seems to be an intense thing…”
“Hm? Where did that come from?”
Claude tilted his head curiously in response to Agnes’s murmured words. The way his Prussian blue hair swayed with the movement was captivating. As Agnes took another look at him, she found herself deeply moved by his refined features, and reflected on how it still seemed so unreal that she’d somehow become the fiancée of this man: the fourth crown prince and second-in-line to the throne, Claude Visage.
Agnes was Count Lefort’s daughter. But she was adopted—she was really the count’s niece and a commoner before he adopted her. Moreover, as if her engagement being callously canceled by her ex-fiancé (Philip, a fringe member of the royal family) wasn’t bad enough, she also had truly despised pink hair. Worse than that, she made mushrooms sprout on people wherever she went!
Yet, despite her having nothing but negatives to speak of, Claude still cherished Agnes. Perhaps, she often reflected, this is because, to Claude, a royal with dragon’s blood, I’m his “Dragonmate.” His one true love.
Or perhaps it was because Claude was also a colossal mushroom fetishist so, in his opinion, Agnes and her mushrooms were just perfect! That’s probably the main reason… she thought.
“Just something Princess Zenaide mentioned at the tea party the other day,” Agnes replied.
Zenaide was the crown princess and Claude’s sister-in-law. Agnes, Zenaide, and the queen were the only Royal Dragonmates at the moment, creating a unique bond between the women. Agnes felt blessed by their kindness and acceptance.
Zenaide had invited Agnes to a tea party at the royal palace today as well. But when Claude had arrived earlier that day to pick Agnes up, his carriage seemed to be having issues. Now they were sitting around, waiting for it to be repaired.
While they were waiting, Claude had asked her, “Do you have any worries about your status as a Dragonmate?” And that was when Agnes mentioned what Zenaide had told her.
“Well,” Claude replied, “she’s not exactly wrong. What do you think, Agnes?”
“Well…you’re so kind, Claude. And I know that you care for me. So I suppose I don’t really mind whether it’s intense or not.”
In fact, she didn’t know what intense love really even meant. But she trusted Claude, so she wasn’t particularly worried.
“Well,” the beautiful blue-haired prince replied, smiling, “I know that you’re not the kind of person who tries to curry favor by lying, Agnes, so…your response really hits home.”
Claude brought his hand to his mouth and Agnes paused. Is it just my imagination, she wondered, or is he…blushing?
As she stared curiously at him, Claude noticed her gaze and suddenly cleared his throat. “I love you, Agnes,” he replied quickly, “and you’re very precious to me. I don’t want to burden you. So, if anything comes up, I want you to tell me right away. But as a woman and a fellow Dragonmate, it may be good for you to have Zenaide as a confidante.”
Having finished, Claude raised his teacup to his lips. A simple gesture yet one imbued with a royal’s elegance.
“Until now,” Claude continued, “the only Dragonmate besides Zenaide was Her Majesty the Queen. But with my mother’s status, they couldn’t exactly meet up for a light-hearted chat over tea. I know Zenaide is very pleased to have someone to share this experience with as well. So feel free to interact with her like a friend and sister. Anyway, I’m sure she has plenty of things she would like to confide in you too.”
“But…are you sure I’m good enough?” Agnes worried.
Zenaide was born into the nobility, after all. Surely, she’d many other, more suitable ladies to consult with. Being a Dragonmate was a point in Agnes’s personal favor, yes, but that was about all she had going for her. Surely someone else would be more appropriate.
Sighing, Claude put down his teacup. “It’s improved,” he said, not unkindly, “but you still have terribly low self-esteem.” His gray eyes pierced Agnes as he went on, “Agnes, you are very lovely and admirable. Your hair is gorgeous, as if it’d been spun from a field of spring flowers. Its luster is so great, I could stare at it for hours. Your eyes sparkle like green jewels and looking at them gives me peace. Even your voice is as clear as the faint tinkling of bells. And your hardworking, self-sufficient attitude towards life is also splendid. Furthermore…”
“P-Please stop…” Agnes stammered, blushing.
At this rate, he’d simply go on and on praising her. So she begged him with a mix of embarrassment and dismay to stop.
He smiled right back at her as he said, “I keep telling you, you’re the one Zenaide wants to talk to. It’s not an issue of being good enough or not. Do you understand?”
“I… I understand…” Agnes said bashfully.
“Really?”
Flustered, she nodded. If she carried on denying it, his praise would just start up again. It embarrassed her more than it pleased her, and she found it so hard to endure.
“Well then,” Claude said brightly, “try saying it out loud.”
“Out…out loud?!?” Confused, Agnes gazed at his gray eyes, shining brightly.
“‘I’m cute. I’m capable…’ Okay, say it.”
“W-What’s that got to do with anything?” Agnes stammered.
“You still lack self-confidence. But you trust me, don’t you? Then you can say it,” he replied brightly.
“Er… But…”
I want to say these two things aren’t mutually exclusive. But looking at his kind gaze, I can’t bring myself to keep arguing…
“Do you trust me?” he asked again.
How could she deny him, when he spoke with such a sweet smile?
“I’m…cute. I’m…capable,” she said softly.
Suddenly, explosive sounds resounded, as if to drown out Agnes’s little mouse squeaks. Two mushrooms with purple caps and stalks: Laccaria amethystina. Even as he happily plucked the poisonous-colored mushrooms, Claude’s gaze remained trained on Agnes.
“I could barely hear you,” he admonished her sweetly. “One more time.”
“My goodness…” she murmured.
What a demon. Such a terrifying combination: a demon and a mushroom fetishist… she thought.
Claude placed the Laccaria amethystina on the table and gently grabbed Agnes’s hand. “Come on…speak up,” he said sweetly.
Encouraged by his gentle voice and kind eyes, she once more spoke those terrifying words. Desperate to impress, Agnes sucked in air with all her might.
“I’m cute!” she cried. “I’m capable!”
As she shrieked the words, the door suddenly opened and Kevin stood there, wide-eyed.
She’d been seen! Well, heard… Had anything so embarrassing ever happened before?
No! No, no, no, no… she thought in a panic.
Another explosive sound echoed, as if agreeing with her. A Helvella crispa appeared on Kevin’s shoulder.
“We’ve finished inspecting the carriage…” he said calmly. “Or…” he went on, grinning devilishly, “do you want us to extend it?”
“E-Extend what?!” Agnes sputtered.
Kevin calmly plucked the mushroom off and put it on the table… A gift for Claude, perhaps?
“Um…” she said hesitantly, “a-about what you j-just heard. Listen—”
“It’s okay,” Kevin smiled, utterly carefree. “You are cute, Sis.”
This didn’t sit well with Agnes at all.
“Th-That’s what Claude made me say!” she cried. “I-It wasn’t really me saying it!”
“Like I said,” Kevin grinned, “it’s okay. I understand. It’s all part of Prince Claude’s special training, right?”
Special training… she mused. That may be so…but to overhear one’s sister shouting “I’m cute” to the heavens… Well, Kevin’s clearly reaching in his attempts to be understanding…
“You are cute and capable, Sis,” Kevin said softly. “Now go and board the carriage.”
“B-But… I mean…” Agnes stammered.
First Claude, now Kevin…their praise was embarrassing. Too hard to simply accept. Not knowing what to do, Agnes froze, and Kevin let out a small sigh.
“Then I’ll say it too,” he said confidently.
“Say what?”
“You’re cute, Sis! You’re capable! There, now we’re even!” he beamed.
Even?! Agnes cried in her mind. HOW?!
First, she’d had to endure the embarrassment of her brother overhearing her making such shameful pronouncements. Now she had to listen to him repeat them… It was all just too much.
Before she could open her mouth in protest, Claude, now holding the Helvella crispa, began stroking her hair with his other hand.
“I see…” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Agnes. It’s tough going it alone. But I’ll be with you, so don’t worry.”
Agnes turned to him, confused, as Claude put the mushroom in his pocket and looked her dead in the eyes, beaming.
“You’re cute, Agnes. You’re capable.”
He gazed adoringly at her, gently caressing her cheek. Agnes felt her face burn. She was so embarrassed in so many ways, she didn’t even know what to say.
“My precious mushroom princess…” Claude said adoringly, “I shall wait for you and the mushrooms. But one day…I hope to express the full force of my love to you. Please…be prepared.”
As he brought his face closer and whispered all this in her ear, Agnes’s face grew even hotter. All she could do was tremble.
If this was what Zenaide meant by a Dragonmate’s love being intense…Agnes wasn’t confident she could endure it.
🍄🍄🍄
“AGNES, what’s wrong?” Claude asked.
She was seated beside him, yet had kept her face firmly turned toward the window since they’d boarded the carriage. If one were to judge the situation based only on this current moment, her behavior would be considered most rude.
Still, she had her reasons.
“What do you think?” she hissed in embarrassment. “Why did you have to carry me from the house to the carriage?”
Claude had done just that. He’d carried her in his arms from the room they’d been waiting in all the way out to the carriage.
Of course, she’d resisted and argued.
Claude smiled, Kevin grinned, and the servants had looked on warmly. But no one had actually stopped him. Embarrassed and still so distrustful of people, Agnes had immediately squirreled out of Claude’s arms when they arrived, clambered into the carriage and had immediately clung to the window, trying to calm herself down.
“Well,” Claude said firmly, “you seemed frozen to the spot. And we had to hurry.”
“Well, whose fault is that?!” she huffed. “You could’ve just asked me to hurry up.”
Since he’d stroked Agnes’s cheek and whispered into her ear, it was only natural for her to be so startled she couldn’t move. Besides, she wasn’t some delicate, sequestered young woman. If you told her to hurry, she could run at a fair pace.
At any rate, she thought angrily, he didn’t have to carry me.
“Besides,” Claude grinned, “I just wanted to touch you, Agnes.”
Against that winning smile, she was powerless. Instead of a rebuttal, another pop resounded inside the carriage. The thing now growing like a clam-shaped hump on Claude’s shoulder was a Cryptoporus volvatus. In addition, many small milky white cap mushrooms—Cuphophyllus virgineus—were now growing on his other shoulder.
Seeing the mushroom fetishist adorned that way made her feel a little less embarrassed. “I feel like my mushroom sensitivity just keeps increasing…” she sighed.
“That makes me happy,” Claude replied as he happily plucked the mushrooms and started arranging them neatly on the plush seat.
He’s arranging them not just by type, Agnes reflected, but size as well. A meticulous fetishist.
“By the way…” he asked offhandedly as he went about his business, “why do these mushrooms grow for you?”
What a thing to ask!!! He’d apparently never even thought to ask about this before. Too preoccupied with indulging his mushroom fetish… she thought wryly.
“It’s the spirits’ divine protection, it seems,” she said.
Actually, she felt it was more like a curse. Either way, that was the given explanation.
“I’ve heard that,” Claude replied, “but are the spirits meant to be those of mushrooms?”
Caught off-guard by this unexpected question, Agnes mulled it over for a while. “Well…” she finally answered, “they look like balls of light and grow medicinal herbs. I don’t think they specialize in mushrooms.”
“How do you know that these mushrooms are the spirits’ protection in the first place?” he asked.
“Because my father said so.” Here, she didn’t mean her father Count Benoit Lefort, but her birth father, Josse.
“Your biological father was Oreillian, wasn’t he?” Claude asked. “Do mushrooms grow in abundance in Oreille?”
He wore a gentle smile on his face, but in Agnes’s eyes, he was probably just fantasizing about mushroom country. If such a paradise nation really existed for mushroom fetishists like him, then Claude’s joy would be immeasurable.
“You’re not saying you want to live in Oreille, are you?” she asked warily.
“That’d be out of the question,” Claude replied. “So no worries there.”
Was it because he was a member of the royal family that he denied this with such unexpected smoothness? Certainly, he’d never be allowed to relocate to a neighboring country just for mushrooms.
“Did your father sprout mushrooms, too?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “But balls of light always flew around as he grew his medicinal herbs, and it seems he could see the spirits too.”
Agnes had never really asked him to grow any mushrooms, so she’d no idea whether he could or not.
“You told me before that green eyes indicate ‘A Blessing of Nobility,’” Claude mused. “Did your father have them too?”
“Yes, the same color as mine,” she said.
“Then your mushroom blessing must be something you inherited from him too.”
The spirits’ divine protection and her mushroom curse seemed to have mingled and intensified, but she wouldn’t call the latter a blessing. Although she certainly did appreciate it whenever she got to eat a lot of edible mushrooms.
“My mother couldn’t see the spirits,” she reflected, “so I think you must be right.”
“Agnes. My treasure. You have blessed eyes and hair the color of peach blossoms, my sweet Mushroom Princess… Please, be happy, always.”
Once again, she heard her father’s voice in her mind. He’d known she’d hated being referred to as the Pink Mushroom Princess. That day had been the one and only time he’d ever called her that.
