Chapter 105 …
“Me too!”
When I answered without hesitation, the curve of Verdandi’s lips deepened.
His real smiling face was incomparably prettier than the painted-on smile he usually wore.
“Then the reason Verdandi fell asleep earlier was because your form changed? You said dragons only sleep once every ten years.”
At my question, Verdandi seemed to recall something and repeatedly apologized for what he called his rudeness this morning—I didn’t think it was rude at all—before continuing.
“As Lady Lira said. It’s been a while since I revealed my true form, so the physical strain was severe. Normally a dragon wouldn’t fall asleep from that alone, but as I mentioned before, I’m a mixed-blood.”
“Mixed-blood? I told you not to say things like that!”
I even scolded him with a sharp tone like Clein had done before, but instead of denying his own words, Verdandi only gave a faint smile.
“But it’s the truth. I’m a little… no, very different from other dragons.”
At his words, I flared up without realizing it.
“Verdandi isn’t the only dragon born between seasons! You shouldn’t use a bad word like ‘mixed-blood’ over something like that!”
I thought I had been plenty firm this time, but Verdandi still didn’t take it back.
Instead, he lightly shook his head.
“The reason I’m a mixed-blood isn’t just because of when I was born.”
…Huh? There was another reason?
As I tilted my head in confusion, Verdandi answered with the same gentle smile.
“Ordinary dragons recognize their abilities by instinct the moment they are born and set off to find their own nest. Just like how humans cry when they’re born or how baby birds follow their mother—it’s simply natural for us.”
Verdandi glanced out the window, where snow lay piled and shining white, and continued in a low voice.
“But I couldn’t do that natural thing. I was certainly born between summer and autumn, but I took my first breath in winter, opened my eyes for the first time in spring, took my first step in summer, and only became aware of surrounding sounds in autumn.”
…Is that even possible?
No—before that, how could anyone survive like that?
Perhaps my expression showed my doubts clearly, because Verdandi shook his head.
“It doesn’t make sense, does it? Honestly, it’s amazing I didn’t die.”
“Then… are you saying Verdandi just stayed there without even breathing while the seasons changed?”
He rolled his eyes briefly, as if trying to recall that time, then shrugged awkwardly.
“I’d like to answer, but I don’t really know how I survived either. Dragons normally don’t forget things, but for some reason I can barely recall my old memories.”
“……”
“Even the few of my kin I’ve met tend to avoid me. I’m probably not a complete dragon. I’ve actually been called a mixed-blood before.”
That meant Verdandi had been rejected by true dragons as well.
Was he pointed at by humans just for being a dragon, and avoided by dragons for being a mixed-blood?
My chest ached.
Just imagining how lonely Verdandi must have been—belonging nowhere—felt almost apologetic.
Verdandi, who had been looking down at me worriedly as I pouted, tilted his head to meet my eyes.
“Please don’t make that face, Lady Lira. I only told the truth. I’m perfectly fine.”
“That’s exactly the problem—you being fine!”
“Pardon? But…”
“I hate it when anyone calls you a mixed-blood. And I hate it when you call yourself that too!”
After blinking in surprise for a moment, Verdandi quickly nodded as if in agreement.
“Yes. If Lady Lira dislikes it, then I dislike it too.”
…That felt slightly off the mark.
Thinking he was just as formidable as Zeusya in his own way, I crossed my arms and stared at him.
“I mean you shouldn’t call yourself that. Because Verdandi is not some mixed-blood.”
“Then…”
“You’re not a mixed-blood—you’re Lira’s guardian knight!”
Verdandi didn’t nod right away.
Only after I pressed, “Understood?” did he open his mouth a beat late.
“Yes, Lady Lira.”
His smiling face was so pretty that my earlier frustration eased a little.
There was still a long way to go, but for now, I decided it was meaningful that we’d taken one step forward.
With the help of the Western Empire knights, Verdandi, and Urd(?), the drawing room was reborn into a proper party hall.
Colorful balloons were spread neatly across the floor, and the patched fabrics perfectly captured the feel of party curtains.
The skillful Jikil even made confetti-filled poppers and a garland embroidered with Zeusya and my likeness.
“Woooow, it’s pretty!”
Even though it was simply expressed through embroidery, Zeusya still somehow looked a bit fierce—but the garland alternating between her face and mine was undeniably cute.
He must have liked his work too, because he added proudly:
“I’ve never actually seen the Eastern Emperor, but I created it by combining all the rumors I’ve heard so far. The only regret is that I couldn’t fully capture Her Highness’s loveliness on the fabric.”
“It’s really cute! Jikil, you’re the best!”
When I sincerely raised both thumbs, Jikil’s grin stretched all the way to his ears.
‘But what’s that?’
Among the perfect decorations, one thing stood out unpleasantly.
As I squinted at the sloppy wreath labeled Welcome Back, Urd suddenly appeared.
“Your Highness, how is my work?”
“Oh! This… did the doctor make it?”
“Yes. It was my first time cutting paper flowers—considering that, isn’t it decent?”
At his question, I had to seriously reconsider the definition of “decent.”
No matter how I looked at it, it wasn’t decent—but that wreath, along with three balloons, was one of Urd’s few achievements.
“Y-yes, for a first try… You worked hard too, Sir Urd…”
When I awkwardly gave a thumbs-up, he smiled in genuine satisfaction—a smile I’d never seen before.
“Tsk tsk, with skills like that… that man’s proposal prospects are doomed.”
Jikil and the Western Empire knights also cast sharp looks at Urd’s wreath, clearly bothered by it.
But perhaps they couldn’t bring themselves to criticize Urd, who looked so proud like me, because they merely nudged the wreath quietly into a corner.
‘Okay, the party hall is decorated enough. Now what’s left is the food and the gifts!’
Thankfully, Diony oppa had agreed to handle the food preparations.
“You don’t need to thank me. When word came that His Majesty would be returning early, all the imperial palace chefs suddenly came back. Thanks to that, I—just an apprentice—ended up with unexpected free time.”
“But if you’re an apprentice, wouldn’t you be even busier? Other chefs could order you around.”
“I’m an apprentice directly under the head chef. Since my superior was taken to prison, there’s no one who can order me around for the time being. Ah, I heard the head chef died while trying to escape prison—so until a new head chef is assigned, I’ll have even less to do.”
Diony reported his superior’s imprisonment and death with an utterly indifferent expression, shrugging as if it were nothing.
The head chef had been in the wrong, sure—but his calm reaction startled me instead.
“Uh… even so, he must have been someone you worked closely with. Aren’t you shocked or worried at all?”
“Not at all. If someone does something terrible, they should be punished. Trying to escape and ending up like that is entirely his own responsibility. I might have worried if the head chef were the one paying my salary, but thankfully that’s not the case.”
