Chapter 27
Hasollan knew the golden dragon Usman all too well. He was bold, cheerful, and full of life, a dragon who loved people and knew how to have fun. His energy was contagious, but he lacked the self-restraint to control it. And when a dragon was said to be “still lacking,” it just meant he wasn’t ready yet and still had much to learn.
“His Majesty the Emperor rarely shows up in the audience hall these days.”
That was the rumor. Usman, for all his charm, hated sitting still indoors. He found it boring and annoying.
“They say nothing gets done in the palace unless it goes through Count Kenare.”
Hasollan also knew Count Kenare, Bessa Wiffred, very well. He was the kind of man who wanted to stand out, above all else. Sadly, his talents didn’t live up to his ambitions—he always aimed big, but his results were small. Still, Bessa kept pushing forward and creating messes. That was just the kind of person he was.
“What happened to the discipline of the empire?”
But among all of them, Hasollan understood the black dragon Akelans the best. He was wise enough to wait through ages and teach young dragons. Yet his wisdom often leaned more toward cunning than pure insight. Ambition and ability were perfectly balanced in him. He had strength and dignity—a remarkable man.
“A dragon should rule a country, not some lowborn human who came out of nowhere without any proper training.”
And yet Hasollan realized something strange—she didn’t know Akelans at all.
Each day, she was surprised by him. Cold, strict, always following the law—especially harsh with her—Akelans used to be a man who drew a line between right and wrong.
“It’s gotten noisy lately.”
He frowned, annoyed by the merchants and nobles from Impel who were making a fuss. But even as he grumbled, he gently fastened a sparkling diamond around Hasollan’s neck.
This wasn’t like him. Emperor Akelans was never the type to do things like this. He was always restrained—like he had no human emotion or desire. He watched the world from above, looking down at people lost in their greed.
“It suits you.”
He gave her so many heavy, glittering jewels that people whispered the margrave of Roetingen must be pouring all his wealth on her.
“You look beautiful.”
He had never said such words before. Hasollan felt awkward and embarrassed, but Akelans just smiled at her like a happy child.
“You don’t need to do this yourself, Your Majesty…”
She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. Her mind spun with questions. She couldn’t run away—she was stuck. There was no way out. So she told herself she was just “employed” here, and stayed.
‘What am I even doing here?’
“You don’t like it? Then I won’t do it.”
Since when did he care so much about how she felt? He was acting like an obedient child. This version of Akelans confused her. But one thing hadn’t changed at all—whether as emperor or now.
“If you’re not going to do anything, maybe you could let me go beyond the border…”
His expression changed instantly. That hadn’t changed either—once he set his eyes on a goal, he never let it go. She hadn’t expected to be the goal, but she had seen him hunt before. She knew all too well there was no escape. Running would just tire her out—and anger the dragon.
“You can leave, sure. But it’s dangerous out there. And you have to come back.”
His voice was gentle, almost coaxing. Hasollan thought the same thing she always did.
‘How long is this going to last?’
She’d stopped hoping. She’d learned to empty her heart. She didn’t give in to kindness so easily anymore.
“People are laughing, you know. They say the margrave is a poor man, but he keeps giving jewels to a woman who’s not even his wife.”
She had always lived caring about what others thought, so she brought it up.
“I hired you, didn’t I? It’s a reward for doing your job well.”
“But I’m not doing anything right now.”
“Even when you do nothing, you’re beautiful. That deserves a reward too.”
Beautiful, he said. Hasollan was speechless. Then suddenly—
“Uncle! I want to go horseback riding!”
Princess Deny had been half-listening while coloring, but now she jumped up. Young dragons learned fast. Deny had already read all the books Akelans picked for her and sat through hours of lessons. Now that her work was done, she wanted to ride.
“You can’t go alone.”
“Hasollan can come too! Right?”
She ran over and hugged Hasollan.
“Don’t call her by name so casually.”
“Then I’ll call her ‘Auntie.’ Can I?”
The princess looked up at Hasollan for permission.
“Just call me by my name,” Hasollan said firmly.
“But she is my aunt. She’s going to marry Uncle, so she is.”
Still, since Hasollan didn’t like it, Deny didn’t insist.
“Shall we go riding then?”
Hasollan stood up before things got more awkward, and the princess cheered.
“I’ll ride and then study history this afternoon!”
“Have fun,” Hasollan said.
“Don’t go too far,” Akelans warned from behind.
Hasollan had no intention of going far.
“I want to see the ocean,” Deny said with determination and led her horse toward the unfrozen shore.
Roetingen’s biggest port never froze year-round. That made it a tempting target for the northern tribes.
“The sea is too far from my den,” the princess said, acting like an adult while still looking like a child. Knights followed close behind. Even with light security, five elite guards were standard for a young dragon and future empress.
“I need to enjoy it while I’m awake!”
She spurred her horse a bit faster.
“Your Highness, please slow down. It’s dangerous,” Hasollan called out.
“It’s fine!”
At about twelve in human years, Deny was at the age where she never listened.
“Wait—no! It’s dangerous—!”
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air. An arrow.
“Your Highness!”
The horse screamed and collapsed. The knights yanked their reins in panic. More arrows rained down.
“It’s an ambush!”
“Your Highness!”
Hasollan jumped from her horse and ran to Deny. She didn’t hesitate to throw herself between the arrows and the young dragon. In war, she had never cared about her own safety. What mattered most was the dragon. Always the dragon.
“Ugh…”
Deny was groaning on the sand. This was bad. Even though dragons were stronger than humans, she was still a child. Hasollan saw one of the knights fall to an arrow.
“Peterson!”
“Protect the princess and the lady!”
But the number of enemy soldiers was overwhelming.
‘They came by sea.’
Hasollan bit her lip. She hadn’t brought her bow. She couldn’t take them all down at once. And among them was someone… dangerous.
“…A tiger.”
She whispered, recognizing a man with a tiger’s aura in human form.
“Oh no…”
A knight groaned in despair.
“It’s the third prince. ‘Iron Jaw’ Rodus McQueen.”
Hasollan searched her memory. Fourteen years ago, after the fifth prince Terel McQueen took the throne, he supposedly killed all his brothers.
“Didn’t expect such a prize here,” Rodus said, grinning wildly. He looked nothing like a noble prince—more like a butcher.
“They’re raiders,” Hasollan whispered, eyeing their rough clothes.
“Hey, go grab that one. Let’s get out before Terel shows up.”
Terel is here too? Hasollan’s mind raced.
“Sir Gidmong, how much can you still fight?” she asked in a whisper.
“I’m fine,” he growled, gripping his sword.
“Then I’ll knock them down up close. You take them out.”
“Yes, my lady!”
Hasollan and the knights stood their ground. They had no shields, and no messengers for help. They were completely exposed.
Then, like falling horses struck by arrows, the Soruk soldiers began dropping. Gidmong thrust his sword into the chest of the nearest one. Hasollan shielded Deny while toppling one enemy after another. The knights fought like demons.
“Isn’t she the dragon’s mate?!”
Someone shouted.
“So if we kill her, that’s the end of the Roetingen dragon!”
Rodus’s eyes locked on Hasollan.
“Don’t get too close! Who knows what kind of magic she might use!”
Hasollan clutched the dazed princess tight.
“Kill the knights first!”
Sir Gidmong gritted his teeth. He’d never entered such a hopeless fight before.
“Wait!” Hasollan shouted. Her voice rang so loudly, that even the knights flinched.
She pointed at Rodus.
“If you want the dragon, then stop killing the knights and take me with you.”
“My lady!” Gidmong cried out.
But she wasn’t one to back down.
“If you want the Soruk throne, you need proof. A living hostage.”
“No! You can’t!” Gidmong yelled.
“Use me. As a hostage.”
Hasollan had to survive. Before more lives were lost.
She remembered—she had died so many times already. But Deny… she had to live.
The Soruk warriors paused. They looked at Rodus for an answer.
He scratched his chin.
“Not a bad idea…”
In the power struggle over the Soruk throne, bringing back a young dragon or the dragon’s mate would make him king.
“But Do we need her alive?”
Hasollan went pale.
“Kill her. Cut off her head and send it to the black dragon.”
Rodus gave the order.
