<Chapter 6>
Gahwa kept her head lowered, staring at that hand.
Just as he had said, she wanted to take revenge on the one who had made her like this.
But she had no intention of being used again only to die a meaningless death.
And as for revenge…
“I will accomplish that much on my own.”
Gahwa looked at the dragon with determined eyes.
The dragon raised an eyebrow — a face that said he was exasperated, yet there was a flicker of amusement at her unexpected reply.
“Good. That’s how it should be. I’ll truly give you a chance then.”
He gave a short laugh, took the dagger and sheath from her hand, restored it to its original hairpin form, and rolled it between his fingers.
Not knowing when it might suddenly stab her throat, Gahwa swallowed hard.
“Ah—”
After rolling the dagger in his hand for quite a while, as if organizing his thoughts, the dragon suddenly shrugged as though just remembering something, and held the dagger out to her.
When she didn’t take it and only stared, he jiggled his hand in a motion urging her to accept it.
“You’re suspicious too, huh. Well, you’ve no reason to trust me. I don’t trust humans either. We each just take what we want — nothing more, nothing less. There’s nothing to lose. Just like the saying harmony without uniformity.”
Harmony without uniformity, here of all times…
If that was coexistence, then it was coexistence in name only. How could two beings take only what they wanted from each other without trust?
Gahwa reached out her hand, silently asking with her eyes — an old habit from when she used to pretend to be deaf-mute.
The dragon twitched an eyebrow.
“Do you know why I’m imprisoned here?”
He finally handed her the dagger and walked toward the window. It was as if he were giving her time to think.
The fact that he said he was imprisoned here must mean he was sealed.
Of course, the seal wasn’t what Gahwa had once imagined.
Before learning the truth about the rain ritual, she had thought of it as some ancient legend — that the dragon slept beneath the earth.
But here he was, awake and moving in human form.
Therefore, simply being confined here must be the seal itself.
The reason, according to legend, was that he had abducted the king’s woman.
But that was not something one could casually say aloud. Gahwa shook her head as if she didn’t know.
“Not answering — is that another habit from when you played deaf?”
Reaching the window, he leaned against the frame — exactly the same posture as when they had first met.
With a flick of his hand, he beckoned her over.
When Gahwa cautiously approached, he pointed outside with his fingertip.
“Look.”
She leaned her head out slightly to see. The view was familiar. She knew this place.
It was where she had been staying until this very morning.
This is…
“That’s right. The royal palace.”
It truly was the palace — and from here, the great halls below could all be seen at a glance.
She had doubted it even when Yi Hyul told her, but now she had confirmed it with her own eyes.
The place where the dragon was imprisoned was the deepest part of the palace grounds.
“For a thousand years, the scenery has been the same.”
Gahwa glanced at the dragon. He was gazing down at the palace with a bored expression.
A question rose in her mind.
Why would they keep a dragon imprisoned for over a thousand years in a palace so close to the throne? By common sense, the more dangerous something was, the farther away it should be kept.
As if to answer her unspoken question, the dragon spoke.
“I told you earlier — they only ever sent half-wits to me.”
She couldn’t see what that had to do with the seal.
But she quickly understood who “they” were.
The kings of Gahwa’s country.
Why would they…?
“To give me false hope.”
The dragon smirked bitterly.
“From the beginning, they would send people as though offering me hope. But every one of them was a simpleton who could barely speak. And then they’d just steal my power.”
He turned away from the window and fixed his gaze on Gahwa, speaking each word with deliberate weight.
“What I want is ascension. What you want is revenge. So — make a wish to me.”
The proposal was like a rope descending from heaven. Gahwa met his eyes squarely.
“If you ask for strength, I will give you strength. If you ask for wisdom, I will give you wisdom. If you ask me to strip the king of his power, I will do so. After that, you need only say one thing to me.”
“And what is that?”
“Thank you.”
That’s all?
Gahwa swallowed.
At last, all the vague, puzzling words she had heard came together into one conclusion.
A wish — and acknowledgment.
Even the myths said that the other eight dragons had granted wishes and then ascended to heaven.
Some had given people overwhelming strength; others, unmatched wisdom.
But after rejoicing in those gifts for a short while, people came to realize the truth — once they expressed gratitude, the dragon would vanish, ascending to the heavens.
And so, in their greed, they chose to capture and imprison the last remaining dragon.
They twisted the story, fed false hope, and kept stealing his power.
That was how one dragon remained in this land.
Gahwa wanted to ask if her hypothesis was correct, but lacked the courage.
For if it was true, it meant the dragon had done no harm — yet had been chained to the earth for millennia solely because of human greed.
“……”
She looked at the dragon intently. Her fear had vanished.
Only now did she truly see his face.
Though he claimed to have lived for thousands of years, he looked like a young man.
His sharp features suggested a sensitive temperament, but beneath his eyes there was no malice — only emptiness, as though the only feeling left to a captive dragon was hollow resignation.
Her heart burned with anger at human selfishness.
The kings — every last one of them — had acted with vile cruelty.
To imprison a dragon for their own gain, to feed him scraps of hope, and to drain his power… if every king to this day has done the same, that means…
She had to confirm this one thing.
“There’s something I want to know.”
“What is it?”
“Have the kings themselves also made wishes — not just sacrifices? Including the one who recently held his coronation…?”
The dragon smiled as if to say of course. Gahwa felt as though the ground beneath her feet had collapsed.
So the king had gambled away her mother’s life, sending her here solely to make a wish.
Just to feed his own greed.
Her face hardened.
“What wish did he make?”
“Well… he said something about wanting proof that he was truly king. Let’s leave it at that.”
It seemed he had no intention of answering in detail. But Gahwa didn’t need more.
Whatever that wish was, I can simply make my own wish to take it back.
After that, if she said “thank you,” the dragon before her would be able to ascend to heaven.
It really would be mutual benefit, nothing more.
She knelt and bowed her head low.
“I will make a wish — no, I want to make a wish.”
She heard movement above her bowed head.
The dragon rose and walked to stand before her.
“Before that, there’s something you must do. Raise your head.”
At the sound of his steps halting, Gahwa lifted her head.
He knelt on one knee to meet her eyes. She did not look away as she asked:
“What is it?”
“First — your death. You must die here.”
Gahwa wasn’t surprised. Unlike the king, he had no murderous intent toward her.
So she simply asked again:
“What do you mean?”
“Hmm, you’re no fun to tease. That’s a shame.”
He muttered lightly, and Gahwa narrowed her eyes.
It seemed to be his habit to speak in a roundabout, drawn-out way. The former was difficult to understand; the latter was of no benefit. And now was not the time for jokes.
She pressed him again.
“What do you mean?”
The dragon let out a long sigh, as though his interest had waned.
“Just what I said. No human has ever left this palace alive. Only in death can you leave — and that includes the sacrifices. So, to get out, you must die.”
“You mean I have to fake my death?”
“Yes. That’s not hard to do.”
Which meant that the second condition would be the difficult one. And it would be something she could only do once she was outside.
“What’s the second?”
“You’re smarter than I thought.”
Gahwa smiled faintly, as if steeling herself.
“To survive, one needs a few small tricks.”
From a young age, she had practically lived in an old library annex to Yeonhwa Palace.
Though now crumbling, it had once housed a favored royal concubine, and thus was filled with precious books.
It was the perfect place to gain knowledge — and to pass the time out of sight of others.
“Then this should be easy for you. You must gather my yeouiju for me.”
