Chapter 27
However, no matter how threatening it tried to act, it was still just a small baby dragon doll.
Realizing that himself, Pepe sighed deeply.
The great dragon Phetuanis — that was his true identity. But now that the traces of the ancient era had vanished, there was no use in throwing a tantrum and demanding people recognize him. Especially when he looked like this…
“I shall grant you special permission to address me as Lord Pepe.”
Originally, only Yvon had been allowed to call him that! Pepe, holding back tears, graciously gave Dante permission to use his nickname. But Dante merely snorted.
“Forget it, doll.”
A doll?!
Not even his name, nor his nickname — just doll!
Pepe, who had been puffing himself up proudly, let out a shriek of despair.
“Even if you call me Lord Pepe! No, really — I have a personality, you know?! So please, call me Lord Pepe!”
(Does that so-called ‘personality’ mean dignity as a doll or something?)
Dante looked a bit dumbfounded, but he nodded obediently. He was sure this doll would keep making noise if he didn’t.
Satisfied by the response, Pepe cleared his throat pompously and lifted his head.
“Anyway, thank you for saving me.”
Dante’s gaze flicked toward the small black wings on Pepe’s back. They were fluttering slightly — so apparently, they did move.
“You can’t just fly out on your own, huh?”
Why even have wings if you can’t use them?
Seeing Dante’s pitying expression, Pepe bristled but couldn’t get angry. He knew himself how pitiful he looked.
“Once I drink water, my body gets too heavy. I just… sink straight down.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
Dante studied Pepe sitting on his palm.
(Looks like he’d die if his neck got torn off, too.)
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have screamed so loudly not to pull it earlier.
(Seems like there’s nothing to worry about. He doesn’t have any special powers besides talking.)
If Pepe had heard that thought, he might’ve burst into tears. Dante organized his thoughts calmly.
Given his abilities, it made sense why Yvon had kept him hidden. A doll that was all talk and no use — of course it’d be embarrassing if discovered.
(Still, how can he not even use proper magic? Getting swept away in a stream like that… Can he really protect Yvon like this?)
Just moments ago, Dante had been hurt, thinking Yvon had deceived him — yet now that he knew Pepe’s true state, he found himself looking at the baby dragon with cold eyes.
Dante narrowed his eyes, glaring at Pepe. Pepe, who was trying to fix his dented head, muttered awkwardly.
“A-and don’t tell Yvon that you know my true identity.”
“Why not?”
“Well, that child doesn’t even know how to use magic properly… and if she found out my identity because she couldn’t even handle squeezing a little water, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
Clearly, it was the latter reason that mattered more.
(At least he knows it’s pathetic that he couldn’t handle it.)
That already made him better than people who were too foolish to even recognize their own weakness.
“But you know,” Dante said with a smirk, pressing Pepe’s head the other way, “your tone’s been bothering me for a while. You think too highly of yourself for someone who can’t seem to do anything.”
“Y-you insolent—!”
Pepe erupted in rage, jumping up and down — but soon, he just huddled up miserably and began to cry.
“Hmph…”
His limbs were so short and stubby that even curling up properly didn’t work. Pepe mumbled in dejection.
“Fine, it’s true. My magic’s all used up, and I can’t do anything but talk…”
“That’s nothing to be so depressed about. Humans often suffer because who they want to be doesn’t match who they really are.”
“Don’t try to comfort me so tenderly, idiot! And why are you so quick to declare me some useless fool?”
(So he escapes into denial, even when told the truth.)
Dante only shrugged in response. Pepe, irritated by the gesture, glared at him — and suddenly, Dante’s face, which he’d thought of as bear-like, now seemed sly like a fox’s.
Still, what could he do? Right now, Yvon had no one but this man to rely on, and Pepe himself had his weakness exposed to Dante.
Pepe stuck out his tiny front paw.
“Anyway, since I’ll keep your feelings for Yvon a secret, you’ll keep my true identity a secret too.”
A petty creature offering a petty deal. Still, pretending not to know the doll could talk was no trouble, and hiding his feelings for Yvon was in his best interest, so Dante nodded.
“I promise.”
As a sign of agreement, he bumped his fist gently against Pepe’s paw.
Just then, a soft voice echoed faintly in his mind.
“I promise, too.”
Eyes full of fear — yet unwavering trust in him.
Delicate arms, soft palms, a pale face tinged with pink.
(…I’m in deep.)
Even looking at this ridiculous doll made him think of her — that was dangerous.
With a sigh, Dante gripped Pepe and began to run upstream along the valley. Still, he didn’t regret stopping Yvon and taking action himself.
(She was about to just jump straight into the water again, wasn’t she?)
In water, a person’s movement slows drastically. Jumping in to grab a drifting object usually means losing both the object and endangering oneself.
(It’s better if I handle it.)
With that thought, he soon arrived at the riverbank where Yvon stood.
As expected, she couldn’t suppress her impatience — she was clutching her skirt and about to run straight toward him.
“Your Grace!”
When she saw Dante, Yvon’s face lit up with a radiant smile. Her eyes were swollen red from crying, tears still glistening like dew.
“Thank you so much! No words can express how grateful I am!”
She took Pepe from Dante’s hand and bowed deeply with joy.
“Pepe is truly precious to me.”
At her words, Dante reflexively glanced at the baby dragon in her hands.
(So the name really was Pepe.)
He thought it was a ridiculous name — and yet that pompous creature even insisted on adding “Lord” to it.
Looking at Yvon made the baby dragon seem even more annoying somehow.
Yvon, noticing Dante staring at Pepe, called softly, puzzled.
“Your Grace?”
“…It’s nothing.”
Dante blinked and snapped back to himself, replying in his usual curt tone.
“There’s no need to thank me so much.”
“But still…”
Yvon fidgeted, glancing at his clothes soaked up to the waist. Dante gave a faint smile to ease her guilt.
“Didn’t we make a deal?”
“…A deal?”
“You were going to teach me how to knit.”
Yvon blinked blankly at first, then answered brightly, “Yes!”
Her beaming smile was so dazzlingly beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her.
After Dante helped rescue Pepe, they finally returned to the carriage. Since we’d been gone so long, Rowan and the coachman had already gathered branches, made a fire, and even cooked stew while waiting.
When they saw Dante show up, dripping wet, their jaws dropped.
“Your Grace? What on earth happened to you? You were gone so long we thought the lady got lost — but it turns out you were the one who got lost?”
“Quiet.”
Apparently unwilling to explain, Dante cut Rowan off and went inside the carriage to change clothes. I, meanwhile, told Rowan what had happened, looking rather embarrassed.
“My knitted doll fell into the water, and His Grace went to fetch it for me.”
“Huh? His Grace did that?”
Rowan’s gaze shifted to Pepe. The little doll flinched slightly, but not enough to be noticed.
“Well… I suppose it’s rather cute.”
He said it, but his disbelief was clear. I sighed softly.
“I promised to teach him how to knit in return. So I’ll have to practice even harder.”
“Knitting?”
Rowan wrinkled his nose as if hearing something absurd, then quickly forced an awkward laugh.
“Ah, right. I think His Grace mentioned wanting to learn before. Hahaha… so that’s what this was about — knitting in the carriage…”
At that, I tilted my head slightly.
(He said he wanted to learn before? Has he seen something knitted before, then?)
No wonder, when he first saw Pepe, he immediately asked if he could touch it.
Realizing that, I suddenly felt sorry for Dante. He hadn’t been completely clueless after all — just vaguely familiar with such things.
(I thought he was just being polite so I wouldn’t feel bad. I really should teach him properly.)
Unaware that Rowan and I had completely misunderstood each other, we both sank into our own separate thoughts.
