Chapter 8
Become His Highness’s Most Precious Person
Mikrok’s maternal grandfather, King Samal, once handed poison to his own daughter—the queen of Pritan. He instructed her to slowly poison her husband, King of Pritan, until he died.
His greed was simple: if his young grandson Mikrok became king, Samal could control the Kingdom of Pritan at will.
But he never understood the depth of his daughter’s love for her husband. To protect that love, Mikrok’s mother took the poison herself instead.
“Why didn’t you tell Father the truth?”
“No. Your father would never, ever forgive Samal.”
Until her final breath, she worried about her homeland.
“Promise me—you’ll keep it a secret from your father…”
“Mother…”
Mikrok couldn’t bring himself to refuse her dying wish.
But there was one thing she hadn’t realized—her son Mikrok was even more ruthless than her husband.
When Mikrok ascended the throne, he spent two years planning revenge, then destroyed Samal without mercy, just as he had planned.
“You… you, why…??”
King Samal was stunned beyond words to see his own grandson storm the royal palace like lightning and slaughter its occupants.
Never for a moment had he imagined Mikrok knew the truth about his daughter’s death.
He never received an answer—because Mikrok’s sword took his head without hesitation.
With every member of its royal family and nobility slaughtered, Samal lost its sovereignty and became a vassal of Pritan.
Drawn from his thoughts, Mikrok’s gaze dropped to his right hand. The skin on his palm was deeply puckered and scarred, as if from a severe burn.
When her lips brushed his and withdrew, the mark—known as the Dragon’s Breath—had tightened sharply. The sensation was even stronger than the first time he saw her.
Just then, William entered the tent. Mikrok held out his hand toward him.
“Wil, look at this. Notice anything strange?”
“Hmm… not that I can tell.”
“Look closer. Doesn’t the Dragon’s Breath seem lighter to you?”
At his king’s insistence, William reluctantly studied the scar. But he saw no visible change.
Those born of the Pritan royal bloodline bore disfiguring scars, like burns, on their face or hands. In the royal family, this mark was called the Dragon’s Breath.
Mikrok’s father, the previous king, had a large Dragon’s Breath across his face and suffered greatly from it before marriage. But when Mikrok remembered him, there was no scar.
His father had told him the mark disappeared entirely when Mikrok was three years old.
When Mikrok was young, he had once shown his father his own growing Dragon’s Breath in tears.
“Father, the Dragon’s Breath on my hand is bigger than yesterday.”
“Consider it a blessing—it’s only on your hand. I wore a face cover until I met your mother.”
“Really? But you don’t have a scar now!”
“If I hadn’t met your mother, I never could have shown my face. Love, and being loved—that’s the only way the Dragon’s Breath can be erased.”
The moment Lea’s lips brushed his, Mikrok felt the sharp sting in his palm and remembered his father’s words. Could she really erase this scar, just as his mother had?
The thought of being in love with her sent a slow heat through his whole body.
And he couldn’t help but think—if this ugly mark had been on his face, Lea, who adored beauty, would never have followed him.
By that logic, his luck wasn’t just good—it was extraordinary.
“Did something happen earlier today?”
William’s voice was tinged with concern at Mikrok’s unusual behavior. But Mikrok gave no answer—only his reddened ears betrayed him.
“Drrrooo~ droo-roo-roong~”
Millie, who had spent the past two days riding without rest, was snoring heavily.
Giving up on more sleep, I left the tent. The sun was already up, but the campsite was quiet.
Not far away, William was tending a fire and boiling water.
“Up early, Sir William.”
“Did you sleep well?”
He handed me a cup of hot tea. I sat by the fire, wrapped in the blanket he offered, and took a sip.
Feeling warmer, I asked what had been on my mind.
“Why does His Highness want to return to Pritan so quickly?”
“Well… that’s because…”
William hesitated, then continued.
“Near the Pritan Kingdom lives the Maon tribe, a race of demons. Every year, toward the end of summer, they raid villages along the border.”
I’d heard of the demon tribes in the cold north, but I’d never seen one.
“There are other monsters to be culled as well. Normally, a punitive expedition would be launched in two months, but this year it’s been moved up.”
“Why?”
“Because of Grand Duke Jake of the Harun Empire.”
Ah—Mikrok had mentioned him before, saying he’d meddled with Pritan’s national treasure.
“Two months ago, he tried to secretly fell the Golden Pines—a specially protected tree of Pritan—using the Maon tribe. Fools, letting themselves be used like that.”
I thought the Grand Duke was the bigger fool. How dare he target Pritan!
“Pritan and the Maon tribe have long had a secret pact regarding the Golden Pines. That’s why their raids were tolerated with only warnings.”
“So now that they broke the pact, they’ll pay dearly.”
William nodded.
“His Highness cut off one of the Grand Duke’s arms and sent him back. And the monster hunt has been moved up. As for the Maon tribe… there will be no warnings—only extermination.”
He stopped abruptly, biting his lip as if he’d said too much.
“Don’t worry. I won’t leak anything. Honestly, I don’t even know any Maon tribesmen.”
I smiled playfully, and he gave a faint smile back before continuing.
“The frightened Harun emperor sent His Highness a marriage proposal, penned by the Marquis of Uzkal. But even with marriage, His Highness didn’t want to delay the hunt. Thanks to you, Lady Lea, he can leave on schedule—and he’s very pleased about it.”
He dropped dried vegetables into the boiling water.
“Your loyalty seems entirely focused on His Highness.”
“That’s only right for a knight.”
“Not all knights are like that. Even Millie admits you’re different.”
At Millie’s name, he looked mildly surprised.
“I’m surprised. I would have expected her to complain about me all night.”
I chuckled and sipped my tea.
“If I become Pritan’s queen, will I also receive your loyal devotion?”
His face froze, making me awkwardly smile.
“Or is your loyalty only for His Highness?”
“Become His Highness’s most precious person. Then my life will be for both His Highness and you.”
I understood immediately.
“So if I’m only a queen in name, I won’t have your loyalty.”
“Well… honestly, I’m not too worried about that.”
He smiled faintly. What did that mean? Why not worry a little?
Before I could ask, the tent flap rustled and King Mikrok emerged, coming toward us.
“Did you sleep well, Your Highness?”
William offered him tea. Mikrok looked displeased, but even fresh from sleep and rumpled, he was still gorgeous.
Why does this man have to be handsome first thing in the morning?
Before I could do something foolish, I started to retreat to the tent—until his low voice stopped me.
“Cold?”
“Huh? Oh… yes. Even in summer, the forest is chilly in the morning and evening.”
“Then you’ll have trouble with Pritan’s climate.”
That sounded almost like he was saying I wasn’t fit to be queen because I couldn’t stand the cold.
After my earlier talk with William, this stung.
“I also stayed too long in the stream last night…”
Oh no—why did I bring up the stream incident myself?! His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
“…I’d better wake Millie.”
Before my mouth caused more trouble, I ducked into the tent. Millie was still sound asleep—until I said:
“Millie, get up. Sir William says we’re leaving soon.”
She shot upright, folded her blanket with military precision, and changed clothes.
“Let’s go, my lady!”
Her sudden shift made me laugh.
Outside, William quickly dismantled the tent. A meal awaited us by the fire.
“We’ll meet a carriage from Pritan around midday. It will make the rest of the journey far more comfortable—just hold out until then.”
The mention of the lavish Pritan carriage made Millie and me exchange happy looks.
After breakfast, we erased all traces of our camp and loaded the horses.
My backside already ached at the thought of more riding, but Mikrok caught me by the waist and lifted me onto the saddle in one smooth motion. His solid body was right behind mine.
William and Millie mounted his horse, Bibi.
Suddenly I wondered about the name of my horse.
“What’s this horse’s name?”
“Name? It doesn’t have one.”
“But Sir William’s horse is called Bibi. Why doesn’t mine have a name?”
Mikrok gave me a look like I was speaking nonsense.
“A horse only needs to run fast. Why does it need a name?”
“Even animals can form bonds. Call it by a kind name, and it’ll grow closer to its master.”
“Then name it yourself.”
He really hadn’t named it! I racked my brain for something worthy—something as good as Bibi.
“Your nickname is ‘the blood demon mad for war,’ right? So how about ‘Fierce’ or ‘Savage’? Strong, isn’t it?”
“What?”
His calm expression twisted instantly.
