I Married the Dragon I Killed
Chapter 67
Chapter 67
Second Tea Party
Ferda took a moment to look over the affairs of Valdrova’s castle.
He had been away for a full month, so he wondered if anything had gone wrong, but things were proceeding smoothly.
The first place he visited was Bernel’s laboratory.
Bernel’s theories, which had once been nearly incomprehensible, were being refined to the point where they were becoming easier to understand.
This was an achievement made possible by the fifteen assistants helping him.
‘The biggest hurdle is still far off, though.’
His greatest challenge was, as expected, Malcolm.
“Mr. Malcolm, could you put this into the right intake, please?”
“The right one!? Understood!”
“No, the right! The hand you eat with! No, not there! Argh!”
To those who had lived their lives competing with geniuses, Malcolm was nothing short of a disaster.
Mention anything slightly difficult, and a question mark would immediately pop up over his head.
He was the greatest idiot in history, someone who got confused not just by the cardinal directions, but by left and right as well.
To think they had to make a fool understand what even geniuses struggled with.
Bernel had torn at his hair so much that his once-thick mane was thinning to the point where his scalp was visible.
The culprit, Malcolm, remained as bright and cheerful as a dog out for a walk.
‘Magic engineering is, ultimately, meant for humans who aren’t mages to use.’
If a man like Malcolm could at least grasp the purpose and operate the devices, even if he couldn’t apply the theories, then ordinary people would be able to use them too.
That was the ultimate goal Ferda desired.
‘Anyway, things seem to be going smoothly here.’
As he passed by the sight of people clutching their heads in frustration, Ferda heard a loud voice from a corner of the hallway.
“Hyaaaaah!?”
He knew immediately upon hearing that fussing voice.
It was the demon, Penelope.
“What is this Witch doing here?! Why is a Witch wandering around a dragon’s castle so boldly?!”
The Witch she was referring to was undoubtedly Echidna.
“Hohohoho, if a demon can wander around, why can’t a Witch?”
He wondered how the two had gotten entangled, but the reason was soon revealed.
“Um, Miss Echidna? Could you calm down and listen to me?”
It was because of Zed.
As Ferda drew closer, the situation became clear.
Penelope was clinging to Zed’s leg, Zed was at his wit’s end, and Echidna was pointing a knife at Zed.
Echidna’s eyes were vacant.
“Ah, Lord Zed. Don’t worry. I won’t harm you. I’m simply trying to perform a Contract Separation Technique.”
“Contract Separation Technique?”
“Yes, it’s a method to avoid the curse by amputating the part where the mark was engraved and granting it new life. Then, Lord Zed, your body will be as clean as it was before.”
“…Doesn’t that mean you’re going to cut off my arm?”
“And you’ll have to live a life of pain every day. But that much pain is nothing!”
Zed, pushed to the brink of absurdity, finally spoke his mind.
“Are you insane?”
“It’s okay! Even with only one arm, I’ll love you forever, Lord Zed!”
“Well, I love my arm, okay?!”
“We’ll overcome it! With our love!”
A mess of its own was unfolding here as well.
Just by listening to the conversation, Ferda could easily deduce the cause.
‘It’s because of the oath he made with Penelope.’
On the day of the rescue, Ferda had forced Penelope and Zed into a contract.
It was to prevent Penelope’s body from returning to Hell and to monitor her movements at the same time.
He had also placed a firm gagging order, making it impossible for her to speak about Sitri’s life vessel without his permission.
Though she was essentially on a leash, it was an excellent deal for Penelope.
Was it not better to hide within a safe dragon’s nest than to live as a fugitive across the land?
‘Is it… good for Zed, too?’
He was a man who reflexively hit on any woman he saw.
Since Penelope was technically a woman, Ferda thought he might enjoy it.
Ferda hadn’t explained Penelope’s exact purpose to Zed.
It was enough for him to know she was a daughter Sitri cherished immensely.
While Zed was caught between the demon and the Witch, he made eye contact with Ferda.
Zed’s eyes said:
Please save me.
A man is supposed to speak with his back.
Ferda turned his back like a man.
Deal with it yourself.
‘Anyway, things are running without issue.’
The castle was functioning without him knowing exactly what mischief had been managed in his absence.
“Ferda-nim.”
Ruri, the small girl in a maid uniform, approached him as usual.
“It is ready.”
“I see.”
Ferda needlessly adjusted his tie.
Black hands reached out from his clothes and began to adjust his outfit once more.
He had risked the danger of dealing with a demon to gain information.
He had killed the one who threatened Ruri to ensure she wasn’t taken away.
Two situations that endangered the survival of the nation had befallen him.
Yet, even combining all those moments, none were as nerve-wracking as this one.
It felt like his childhood self hiding a bed-wetted blanket in the closet.
Hiding a secret that would eventually be found out, even if not right now.
That anxiety vanished the moment the doors to the recreation room opened.
What he saw was a wide-open balcony and a tea table.
And the incongruous Dragon Knight Armor.
‘Is it today as well?’
Having seen it twice already, it wasn’t particularly surprising.
She was sitting still, looking this way.
The helmet, modeled after Valdrova’s dragon face, intimidated whoever faced it.
‘Why is she just staring?’
Ferda first walked forward.
He imagined what kind of expression she might be wearing behind that helmet.
Before he could reach the worst of his imaginings, he realized the truth.
“Zzz…”
She was asleep.
Valdrova’s head tilted forward.
It leaned as if it were about to crash into the floor, then snapped back to its original position.
“Mmm… mm… hm?”
The helmet of the waiting Valdrova lifted and turned toward Ferda.
“Um… Mr. Ferda…?”
Her voice echoed faintly.
She stared blankly at him for a moment.
“Wait!? Mr. Ferda!?”
She hurriedly stood up and welcomed him.
“Y-y-you’re here!?”
“Yes. I greet Archduke Valdrova.”
“W-welcome back, Mr. Ferda. I was just, um…”
Valdrova couldn’t think of a proper excuse.
Ferda helped her out.
“It seems you had much to think about. You were deep in contemplation.”
“Pardon? Oh, the truth is I was dozing off…”
“Usually, when a King wakes up from a nap, it’s polite to say such things.”
“Ah, I-I see. You’re right. I w-was thinking. Yes!”
Pleased to have found a good justification, she nodded repeatedly.
She was a woman terrible at lying.
“Are you alright, Mr. Ferda?”
“Yes.”
“I heard there was a problem with the carriage. That you had to stop at Count Consilus’s estate…”
Ferda glanced at Ruri.
Standing like a folding screen, she gave a slight nod.
So, Ferda confirmed it.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“You weren’t hurt or anything, were you?”
“It wasn’t a major issue. It was something that could be resolved with light maintenance.”
“That’s a relief. I was a little worried.”
She was genuinely relieved.
That reaction became the reason why the secret was necessary.
“What was discussed at the Grand Council?”
Ferda spoke about what had happened at the Grand Council.
Simple stories of territorial disputes.
“I see. On the Serdes Continent… I did hear that wars break out occasionally.”
The territorial dispute between elves and dwarves.
“Are they still fighting? It felt like they were doing that in the old days too…”
Most of the stories were like that.
Conflict and anger.
There weren’t many stories that would bring a smile to one’s face.
Yet, Valdrova was listening intently.
That was why it was frightening.
He was afraid he might make a mistake, swept up in her innocence.
It wasn’t easy to step with muddy feet onto that pure field of snow.
“And…”
He reached the end of his report.
“We discussed the subjugation of the East.”
“The subjugation of the East?”
“I declared that we would conquer the Demonic Land on our border.”
“Ah.”
The Demonic Land.
Upon hearing those words, Valdrova, who had been responding so well, fell silent.
She began to fiddle with her forearm for no reason.
Her gaze drifted toward the balcony.
The sight of early autumn, where colors were changing most vibrantly.
It was the scenery that ordinary inhabitants of the Serdes Continent saw.
“That place, now called the Demonic Land…”
Her voice was tinged with faint nostalgia.
“It once had beautiful scenery like that.”
Her voice carried complex emotions.
“It’s a place stained black now, but it can regain those pretty colors again, right?”
Of course.
He could have ended it simply with those words, but Ferda couldn’t.
“It won’t be easy.”
Ferda did not give a hollow assurance.
“But I will do whatever it takes to reclaim the scenery you once saw.”
Instead, he showed his resolve.
“Is that so?”
Valdrova’s face brightened as if touched by his words.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do my best.”
She clenched her fists.
“My fiancé is working so hard; I can’t just be idle.”
“If Your Grace would lend a hand, it would be the greatest honor for me.”
Looking at her, Ferda felt his heart grow at ease.
To be able to accept something exactly as it was, without needing to read deeply into hidden motives.
This, surely, was true purity.
“Um… do you have any other stories?”
“There is nothing else.”
“Ah, I see…”
Valdrova’s voice trailed off tentatively.
What was it?
What kind of story had she been expecting?
Ferda brought the cooling black tea to his lips.
“The thing is, Ruri mentioned…”
“Yes.”
“That you held hands with a woman named Olivia.”
“Pfft.”
He choked and sprayed the tea spectacularly.
Valdrova was more flustered than Ferda, who had just spat out his tea.
“Mr. Ferda? Are you alright!?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you… I just wanted to talk about it…”
Ferda wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and looked away.
His eyes met Ruri’s, who was standing there like a statue.
So you told her after all?
When he glared with eyes that asked that question, Ruri looked away.
It would be a lie to say he didn’t feel some resentment.
His head began to ache instantly.
What could he say to get out of this situation?
That the girl grabbed his hand first?
That they held hands, but it didn’t mean much?
Dozens of excuses flooded his mind, but Ferda wiped them away immediately.
“I apologize. To hold another woman’s hand while I have Your Grace…”
“No, betrayal? I don’t mind that at all!”
She waved her hands dismissively.
“You’re a man, Mr. Ferda… and I heard she’s very beautiful, so yes, I think that could happen.”
She murmured as if she understood, but her fidgeting fingers and lowered head said otherwise.
Ferda felt his heart weighed down by guilt.
“So, about that…”
Her eyes looked up at him cautiously.
“Perhaps…”
She tilted her head slightly and asked Ferda.
“Perhaps do you… want to hold my hand as well?”
Ferda’s head rang with a dull thud.
“…Pardon?”
He asked stupidly.
“Your Grace’s… hand?”
“Yes. We held it once before… and I think I can manage that much…”
Though my face is still too much.
She waited for an answer, mumbling the rest under her breath.
“W-what do you think?”
Unlike her lighthearted tone, Ferda exercised more caution than ever before.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He couldn’t let it slip away.
Struggling to calm his trembling, he swallowed to clear his throat and speak with a rational voice.
“I… want to hold it.”
“I see. Just a moment.”
She removed her gauntlet.
In contrast to the large gauntlet, a small, delicate hand was revealed to Ferda.
It was a frail arm that didn’t feel like the pinnacle of power at all.
When she shyly curled her fingers into a fist, it looked even smaller.
“H-here it is!”
She held it out, palm up.
Ferda looked down at it as if entranced.
The slender fingers and the lines etched into her palm were like a painting.
Ferda carefully moved his hand toward her palm—.
“Hic!?”
Valdrova’s hand jerked away.
He didn’t even get a chance to feel how soft it was.
“What is the matter?”
“No, it’s just… you see… I-I’m worried I won’t be able to control my strength… I need a little time to prepare my heart…”
Her words trailed off, and her breathing sounded heavy inside the helmet.
His heart sank, thinking she was going to say she’d changed her mind.
She placed both her mismatched hands over her chest and caught her breath.
Since her nerves weren’t fading, Ferda made a suggestion.
“If controlling your strength is difficult, how about I place my hand on top of yours?”
“Wait! There’s a way like that! Let’s… do it that way.”
Valdrova placed her hand lightly on the table, back facing up.
Ferda once again placed his hand over hers.
Cr-crack—.
At that moment, the sound of something breaking was heard.
Looking closely, a crack had formed on the table.
‘Wasn’t this table made of granite?’
A material boasting high durability that supposedly wouldn’t break even if a meteor fell from the sky.
If the table was made of that, it was essentially the hardest table on the continent.
‘They say it’s rare for it to even get a scratch, but as expected…’
She wasn’t called the pinnacle of power for nothing.
As Ferda thought that, he suddenly looked back on his past actions.
His first meeting with her.
The thing he had done out of the impulse to see Valdrova’s face.
‘Back then, I’m certain I even interlaced my fingers with hers.’
Ferda was grateful for the fact that his right hand hadn’t been crushed to bits.
Despite feeling that chill, Ferda couldn’t let go of Valdrova’s hand.
It was small and soft.
A warm body temperature and a clearly felt pulse.
A small part of her he never wanted to let go of.
If he had to let go, he wanted to feel it enough to have no regrets.
‘Maybe it’s okay if my hand gets a little crushed.’
He thought about just going for it, but Ferda’s reason suppressed that thought.
“Are you still suffering from that bloodlust lately?”
Valdrova shook her head.
“No… I’m fine.”
“Valdrova-nim was unable to hunt yesterday.”
“Ru-Ruri?”
Valdrova was flustered.
Ruri, appearing out of nowhere, dropped the information and fell silent again.
“Is that true?”
“Well… yes… But it’ll be fine. Just because I didn’t go out yesterday doesn’t mean the monsters won’t come today.”
“But there’s no guarantee they will come either.”
“Yes, that’s… true.”
“If you cannot hunt, you will harm yourself.”
“…”
Valdrova fell silent.
She was at a loss for what to say in this atmosphere.
However, conversation wasn’t strictly necessary.
“Ah…”
Valdrova felt something flowing in through the back of her hand.
This was a sensation she knew well.
It was the same thing that had suppressed her bloodlust before.
“Mr. Ferda…”
“It’s alright.”
Valdrova fell silent.
As it entered her body, it began to calmly settle her heart.
Even though she had felt it once before, she was on the verge of marvelling at it.
To think that the sensation, which could only be resolved by running wild, could subside so calmly.
“Um, Mr. Ferda…”
“Yes.”
“I think this is enough.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Ferda stopped the injection of mana.
Silence fell.
An incredibly awkward silence.
Yet, neither dared to break it.
Because it felt as though the moment anyone spoke, they would both stand up from their seats.
Because it felt as though these hands, joined through courage, would drift apart.
Just a little longer.
They enjoyed this uncomfortable silence.
