TTDBK34

Chapter 34

Kur, who had been about to walk away from Baberi, froze.
He turned back to her, eyes wide.

“What did you just say?”

“If marriage comes first, then fine — get married.”

Kur dropped his gaze, then tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling before looking at her again.

“What are you talking about, Your Majesty? Have you lost your mind?”

In an instant, their roles had reversed.

“Why? Dragons don’t marry or something?”

“Dragons…”

“Even if you say they don’t, so what? It’d be nice. Other people’s kids are cute, but your own would be even better.”

Kur’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His mind went completely blank.

“If you were able to open your heart to Sharon, then it’s not totally impossible, right?”

At the sudden mention of Sharon’s name, the dazed Kur finally came back to his senses.

“If you look around, I’m sure there’s at least one woman you’d like.”

That was Baberi’s grand plan. After hearing the news of Sharon’s pregnancy, she had thought — yes, this is it.

If the people had children, and their children had children, and they had children — the population would just keep growing and growing.

She wouldn’t have to do anything. She could just sit there and let it happen. How easy!

And since it was Sharon and Medo’s child, it would surely be clever. That child could then work, have more children — infinite multiplication.

But what if a dragon and a human had a child?
No one knew if that was even possible… but if it was, wouldn’t the result be the strongest being of all?

If possible, twins would be nice, Baberi thought dreamily.

She didn’t say it out loud, of course. Kur was finicky — he didn’t even like anyone touching him.

At least, that’s what she thought. But apparently, he liked children.

“You must’ve been a bit hurt that I never told you to get married before, huh?”

Better late than never, Baberi patted Kur’s back encouragingly.

“You can do it. Marriage.”

She couldn’t really imagine it, but still — she said it lightly, as if cheering him on.

Kur glared at her with cold, piercing eyes.

“Your Majesty, you are truly, truly…”

He let out a long, furious sigh, too exasperated for words.

“What? Are you trying to say you’re grateful I understand your heart?”

“There’s never been, and never will be, a human who makes me as angry as you do.”

Kur clenched his teeth.

“Don’t you ever say something that unpleasant to me again.”

Baberi blinked innocently. Sure, it had served her interests, but she had said it for his sake too. She couldn’t understand why he was angry.

“But you said you liked little humans?”

“Not anymore.”

Embarrassed, maybe? Baberi thought it was strange.

A few days later, she pointed with her eyes toward a pretty maid and asked,

“How about her?”

It was a short question, but Kur immediately caught her meaning. He bared his teeth in a grin.

“Are you asking how she’d taste as my meal?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“If you ever say something like that to me again, I’ll eat every woman in Baberania.”

He spoke so coldly that she could almost picture the population halving overnight.

“You said you’d never get married,” she shot back. “So don’t come asking me for permission when you change your mind later.”

Kur swore that would never happen.

Sharon gave birth to a daughter — seven months after her wedding.

It was the first time Baberi had ever held a two-week-old baby.

“So tiny… and ugly.”

It was still too early to tell which parent she resembled more, but her reddish hair made it clear she was Sharon’s daughter.

“But you know,” Baberi said, holding the baby awkwardly, “I thought you still had two more months to go?”

And yet, the baby was here. She didn’t look premature at all — in fact, she looked perfectly healthy, as if born right on time.

Medo’s back was drenched in sweat under Baberi’s silent stare.

“Your Majesty, I have a request.”

“What is it — to make your death quick and painless?”

“N-no, I was hoping… that Your Majesty would name the child.”

He stammered as he spoke, but somehow managed to get the words out.

Baberi blinked. She hadn’t expected that kind of responsibility.

The day Baberi was born, a violent storm raged outside.

A dozen of the king’s knights, including the old knight, were waiting outside the crumbling hut. Suddenly, Sir Scott lost his temper.

“How long are we supposed to stand here waiting?”

He stormed inside, kicking open the rickety door.

“Is the child still not born?”

Lady Gemma, who was handing the baby to the mother, jumped in fright.

“If she’s been born, you should’ve said so sooner!”

Scott’s scolding made Gemma shrink back, trembling.

“To come into a birthing room with a sword on your hip — how uncivilized.”

Despite her pale face, the Countess of Ranks’s red eyes still held power. Scott hesitated mid-stride.

“Do you not realize your behavior disgraces the king you serve?”

The Countess sneered.

“The king himself sent a dozen knights to kill one mother and her newborn — there’s no face left to disgrace.”

Scott’s mustache twitched red with fury.

“How dare you mock His Majesty!” he roared.

Even at his shout, the Countess didn’t flinch.

“Scott, calm yourself,” said the old knight as he entered, holding him back before he could strike her.

“I apologize on his behalf,” the old knight said politely, bowing his head. The Countess’s anger eased slightly.

“This child,” she said, touching the baby’s nose, “will grow up to be a Dragon Slayer — and make the name of Ranks echo across the continent once again.”

She smiled faintly, though her shoulders trembled. She was afraid.

The old knight noticed and felt pity. He had always obeyed the king’s orders without complaint — but killing a woman who’d just given birth weighed heavily on him.

“Hand over the child,” said Sir Scott coldly. Unlike the old knight, he felt no guilt.

The Countess turned, shielding her daughter.

“His Majesty has shown mercy,” the old knight said gently. “He’s spared the child’s life.”

Scott clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Don’t sound like you’re asking for something.”

He wrenched the baby from her arms.

“I’ll make sure this little traitor never inherits her mother’s insolence,” he sneered. “I’ll train her to crawl at my feet!”

“Enough.”

The old knight rebuked him, but Scott’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What, feeling sorry for her because she’s pretty? Why do you keep defending a traitor?”

“Watch your tongue,” the old knight warned, his face flushing.

Scott snorted.

“If that’s not it, then prove your loyalty — kill her yourself.”

The old knight drew his sword and took a deep breath.

“Wait!”

The Countess tensed, swallowing hard.

“Margaret. My daughter’s name is Margaret.”

“You have no right to name a child, criminal.”

The old knight’s voice was cold. He turned to Gemma, who was cowering in the corner.

“You name her.”

Gemma panicked, waving her hands. “I-I can’t!”

“Do it. And make it a humble name.”

“My daughter’s name is Margaret!” the Countess shouted, her composure finally cracking.

“Margaret is far too noble a name for a criminal,” the knight said.

The name of Actinus’s daughter — the hero who slew three dragons — was not one to give to a traitor’s child.

“Hurry up,” he urged Gemma.

She glanced nervously around, then looked out the window. The wind whipped the barberry bushes outside.

“I was the one who named you Baberi.”

The old knight confessed one day, after Baberi began learning swordsmanship — and after he’d started drinking again.

He wanted to show his suspicious comrades that he had been loyal to the king.

“But I got demoted anyway. If I’d known it’d turn out like this, I wouldn’t have done it.”

He couldn’t even say her name without guilt. Every time he looked into her eyes — so much like the Countess’s — he shuddered with shame.

“Lady Ranks’s ghost still follows me around, you know,” he muttered, shoulders trembling as if he really saw her there.

Baberi chewed on a piece of jerky and said indifferently, “Then tell her her daughter likes her name. Maybe she’ll stop following you.”

The old knight raised his head. Baberi patted Actinus’s head — her dragon — and said casually,

“I like things you can eat. Margaret’s just a flower.”

“…How can you say that so simply, kid?”

“What? I just said I like it. What’s wrong with that?”

The old knight pressed his palm over his burning eyes and laughed like a madman.
After that day, he never touched alcohol again.

At Ronder Castle, a serious discussion was taking place — so serious that even Baberi, usually visibly bored, looked solemn.

“There’s been a rebellion in Martu,” said Mark. “It seems they were inspired by us, though…”

Before he could finish, Kur interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

“Us? That’s a bold word for someone who wasn’t even there.”

“True, I wasn’t there,” Mark replied evenly. “But I’m Your Majesty’s subordinate now. So I’d say we fits.”

“Who knows how long you’ll stay that way.”

Mark smiled faintly at the implied threat.

“Perhaps. After all, who can tell when the great dragon might change his mind?”

They glared silently at each other. Medo’s stomach churned.

In the mercenary corps, when two people didn’t get along, they’d usually just let them fight it out and then drink together until they made up.
But that wouldn’t work here — if Kur fought, Mark would die.

Normally, the Queen would step in and stop it…

Medo glanced at Baberi. She was sitting with lips pressed tight, staring straight ahead. Then suddenly, she turned to him.

“Margaret.”

The abrupt word made both Kur and Mark stop their growling and look at her.

“I decided. Her name’s Margaret.”

“What?” Medo blinked. “You mean my daughter’s name?”

He waved his hands frantically.

“Your Majesty, that’s far too grand a name!”

“Why?”

Why?

It was the name of a legendary hero — Actinus’s daughter, who slew three dragons. It felt absurd to give it to the child of a minor family like his.

And on top of that, he worried how Kur would react.