Chapter 19
Hasollan was doing something unthinkable in the Lupel Empire—breaking every rule and social expectation. Even though she was known publicly as a dragon’s partner, she lived a plain life with a job so ordinary that some people even found it laughable. She didn’t act like a partner to the dragon at all.
People whispered about her behind her back:
“How can she mix so easily with commoners?”
“She’s going to get in big trouble someday.”
The maids in the castle were especially worried. But Hasollan already knew what kind of “trouble” they were talking about—she had experienced it herself 14 years ago. Back then, she didn’t fully understand it.
“If you start blending in with others, they see you as one of them.”
In a class-based society, that was unacceptable. Nobles avoided mixing with commoners because they needed to show they were different to keep their power.
“So really, I shouldn’t be selling fabric or silk.”
Even Akelans knew this but hadn’t said anything. Normally, he would’ve criticized her harshly by now.
“Your Highness.”
Sir Gidmong, who was escorting her at night, moved aside as Akelans came to greet her again.
“You go ahead. I’ll take her from here.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Miss, take care.”
Since the battle, Sir Gidmong had treated Hasollan with the utmost respect. After he left, Akelans looked straight at her. He was very tall, so she had to tilt her head far back to see his face—but she didn’t look at him.
“…Did you come straight here?”
“Why do you ask?”
She finally looked up. Even in the dark, she could see how stiff his face was.
“You didn’t stop anywhere?”
She hadn’t. And even if she had, what did it matter?
“Why?”
“You smell like Prince Soruk.”
Smell? Hasollan sniffed her clothes.
“Humans can’t smell it.”
“Oh.”
“Did you meet him?”
“He showed up at the shop in disguise. I was going to report him but…”
“But?”
She remembered Lisa’s worried expression.
“Something came up. He probably left already.”
“What could’ve happened that stopped you from reporting an illegal intruder?”
“You think I didn’t think that through?”
Akelans’s face hardened even more.
“Are you hurt?”
She didn’t smell like blood or look pale.
“I’m fine.”
Hasollan walked past him, and he quickly caught up.
“Why did he come?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just to see you?”
“I don’t know.”
Akelans bit his lip. Hasollan, once talkative and always trying to smile for him, now walked by without saying anything. It was unfamiliar and cold.
“What did he do?”
“He bought a roll of silk.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Akelans didn’t believe it. But he couldn’t ask more. Hasollan wasn’t interested in him anymore.
“What did he say?”
“Something predictable.”
“I can’t guess.”
Hasollan bit her lip. She didn’t want to say anything. But under his gaze, she finally spoke, reluctantly.
“Something like… ‘I didn’t know you were the partner.’”
She hesitated to say the word partner in front of him. After she said it, her expression turned cold again.
“I wasn’t going to ask this, but—where did you first meet him?”
It could’ve happened by chance, but Akelans couldn’t hold it in anymore. He needed her to tell him everything, in detail.
“You said you weren’t going to ask.”
“Because I thought it was my fault for not finding you quickly when you ran away.”
“Then why ask now?”
“He’s met you three times already. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Maybe he’s just stupid. There’s nothing he can get from seeing me.”
Hasollan snapped.
“He was once the king of Soruk. And he’s deliberately met you three times.”
Akelans tried to stay calm, but it annoyed him deeply. Hasollan wanted to respond but held back. She was tired and just wanted to sleep.
“Solan.”
He called her by her nickname. She looked back, exhausted. He was wearing an expression she once wore herself.
“You’re my partner.”
You know that, right? His tone was like stamping a seal, making it final.
“Your Highness.”
Hasollan laughed. He looked like a sulking child for the first time. He was stubbornly insisting: You’re my partner. So don’t even think about anything else.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
It used to matter—he had never once said it before. Back then, she clung to it, foolishly. But now it made no difference whether he said it or not.
“So what? Nothing’s changed.”
Before he could speak, she continued. Her voice was filled with sarcasm.
“We’re still like this, aren’t we?”
A dragon and their partner were supposed to meet, fall in love, and get married quickly… but even after 14 years, they were still nothing. Their situation hadn’t changed.
“That’s not true. A lot has changed.”
Akelans didn’t agree. Though he’d done things a dragon never should, now he was trying to make up for it desperately.
“I’m not the emperor anymore. You’re selling fabric now. That’s a huge difference.”
He smiled awkwardly. He wasn’t sure what else to do. Since she didn’t smile, he tried to smile enough for both of them—warmly, kindly.
“And you don’t obey me anymore, no matter what I say.”
That was normal. He thought it was only fair.
“So it’s not like nothing has changed, Solan.”
He called her from the heart. Once, it had just been a tool to manipulate her. But not anymore. Now there was real emotion in his voice—even frustration because she still wouldn’t look at him.
“Your Majesty—I mean, Your Highness.”
Akelans nodded. What mattered was that she called him.
“As you know, I’m greedy.”
She had once dared to want the empress’s position. Many laughed at her for that.
“And now, I’ve decided to be even greedier. This is a new life, after all.”
For the first time since turning back time, Akelans saw something beautiful. Hasollan smiled.
“I’m going to be bolder, meaner. So…”
She wiped away her smile.
“This isn’t enough.”
Her eyes flared with the longing for what she could never have. Akelans saw the darkness in her eyes. Did she know she looked like this? She used to hide it desperately—now she acted like she didn’t care anymore.
“Not even close. Try harder.”
Those were the words he had always said to her.
“Solan, that’s not good enough.”
Try harder. Be stronger. Only then would you even be considered for empress? You’re not enough right now.
He used to say those things to hurt her.
“You think that’s enough? I don’t feel any difference. Try harder.”
She poured out the last of her resentment. Maybe it was madness. Maybe it was twisted longing.
“But even then, nothing will change.”
No matter how hard she tried, nothing changed. And now it was his turn.
She didn’t expect anything. She had long stopped knowing what it meant to hope.
