Chapter 07.
No, You Are the Lord
A double negative is an affirmation. When Chanellica said she didn’t hate it, Derwin nearly lost his last thread of self-control.
“But still—!”
Thwack!
Something smacked Derwin in the face as a firm voice rang out. When he came to his senses, something large and bright white blocked the space between him and Chanellica’s face. It was a pillow—one she had brought with her.
“Not right now. I’m not sleepy… and that’s not why I came here.”
Her voice was muffled, buried in the pillow.
“I know coming here this late at night is rude. But… I was scared you’d be gone by morning.”
Even though her voice was muffled, Derwin heard her clearly.
“There are so many things I want to ask you. You didn’t answer a single one of my questions earlier.”
Her sulky tone made Derwin’s chest pound even harder.
“So scoot over. Let’s talk first. Then we can sleep together. I brought a pillow, after all.”
The pillow in front of his face was pushed upward. It wasn’t a particularly strong push, but Derwin, utterly disarmed by her last words, gave way and was pushed aside along with the pillow.
Chanellica quickly sat up. Her face, now visible again, was bright red—like a ripe apple.
“Now that I think about it, I rushed out so quickly I brought a pillow with me. I guess that worked out, huh?”
“…Are you joking?”
“Joking?”
Her eyes were completely innocent as she looked at him. Despite her flushed face and the fact that she was dressed in revealing lingerie, her expression was pure. Derwin felt something inside him shatter with a crack.
There’s no use talking.
“…Never mind.”
His voice was low. It was obvious now that they had misunderstood what “sleeping together” meant.
“Uh… are you mad? Because I said we’d sleep later?”
Chanellica fidgeted, uneasy at his suddenly cold demeanor. She looked up at him cautiously.
“Then… should I go to sleep first? You seem really tired.”
“…….”
“Okay, but promise me you’ll answer all my questions the moment we wake up tomorrow. Don’t disappear, okay? Promise?”
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll talk now.”
Whatever alcohol had been in his system was gone. He was completely sober now.
After speaking, Derwin walked toward the wardrobe in the corner of the bedroom. He pulled out a large piece of clothing and returned to the bed, handing it to Chanellica.
“Put this on.”
It was a black robe—clearly his, given the size. Chanellica tilted her head in confusion.
“Why? I’m not cold.”
“You’re in your underwear.”
“So what? We’re going to sleep soon anyway. And there’s a blanket here.”
In other words: she couldn’t be bothered. Derwin’s face darkened further.
“If you don’t put it on, I won’t answer your questions.”
The firm, slightly threatening tone finally convinced her. She jumped off the bed and quickly put on the robe.
“Button it up completely.”
She nearly complained that it would feel stuffy, but followed his instructions. The robe, made for a tall man, dragged along the floor.
Once she was fully covered, Derwin finally seemed able to breathe properly.
Still, the bed was too dangerous a place. Derwin moved to a sofa in the center of the room. Chanellica followed, dragging the long robe behind her.
“Ask your questions.”
Derwin spoke as he sat in the single-seater sofa. His voice carried the exhaustion of the world.
“Shouldn’t you just sleep? You look really tired…”
“Ask your questions.”
Word for word, the same phrase as before. Chanellica sensed a trace of irritation and shrank back slightly.
“Uh… sorry. I guess I’m bothering you when you’re already tired. But… please try to understand me. Maybe you don’t remember because it’s been so long, but last time, after that night, you disappeared for 199 years. I was afraid it would happen again.”
199 years. An unrealistic statement. Derwin let out a small sigh.
How long do I have to play along with this delusion?
But it was only the third time they’d met. It had only been a week since the first day. She probably still needed emotional stability.
Derwin was familiar with people who suffered from mental illness. The battlefield he had spent years in had always been full of them. People with delusions like hers could react unpredictably if their beliefs were challenged. It was best to wait until some trust had been built before attempting to confront reality.
“I understand. So, what did you want to ask?”
He knew she was apologetic, but Derwin didn’t care. All he wanted was to get her out of the bedroom as soon as possible.
He hadn’t expected a few drinks to make him so vulnerable to the mood. She might not know it, but Derwin kept thinking about how badly he had misread her earlier—and wanted to crawl into a hole. The very fact that he had reacted like a man to a woman who was spouting nonsense about dragons was shocking. No matter how pretty she was, how could he…?
“First question! What’s your name? I only know your last name is Cartel.”
Unbelievable. Now he was curious how she had even found him. Or had she just randomly picked a mansion?
“Derwin Cartel.”
He answered coolly, not revealing his thoughts.
“…What did you say?”
Chanellica’s response was odd.
“I said, Derwin Cartel.”
Her expression turned strange. Then she forced a smile.
“Don’t joke.”
“That really is my name.”
“…Seriously?”
“Yes.”
To Chanellica, this was a shocking revelation.
The Dragon Lord’s name was Dershevionerp. Derwin was essentially a truncated version of that name, dropping everything after the first two syllables and adding a single letter.
How could he be so half-hearted?
She was about to ask why he chose such a name when she stopped. His pitch-black hair and dark eyes stood out clearly in the dim light.
Right… he didn’t even bother changing his scale color. Would someone like that really care about his human name? Then again, maybe it’s fortunate he even bothered shortening it instead of using it as-is?
“Why do you think I’m joking?”
Derwin couldn’t help but ask at her serious expression.
“Is it… different from what you expected?”
He dared hope—maybe this woman had mistaken him for someone else. Maybe this misunderstanding could be cleared up, and she would leave.
But Chanellica only thought: Something’s wrong. His question was completely off.
Surely he knew that Derwin was a shortened version of his dragon name. He had to know her reaction was understandable. Yet here he was, asking her if it was a different name than expected—with a serious face.
That’s when she began to recall all their conversations so far. Something had always felt… off. He didn’t exactly deny being the Lord, but something always felt mismatched.
There was no doubt this man was the Dragon Lord. She had felt it the moment she awakened as a dragon. Her instincts screamed it. This was the one she had fallen for back then.
So why? Why did he keep asking obvious questions and forcing her to answer?
She thought he was testing her when he asked if she truly believed he was her mate. She thought he was confirming something when he asked about broken promises. She thought he was teasing her when he asked about meeting a god. She thought he had forgotten her hatchling days when he asked what she ate back then.
All of that could be explained away.
But when she emerged from Speacher Island into the human world—a monumental event—he hadn’t shown even a hint of anger.
That meant, perhaps…?
“What’s your real name?”
She suddenly asked Derwin, who had been waiting for her next question.
“…….”
A sudden question. But one Derwin couldn’t answer.
“Why do you ask that?”
He deflected. Same pattern. Chanellica’s eyes narrowed.
“When we first met, what were the last words you said to me?”
Ignoring his non-answer, she asked another question.
“…It’s been too long. I don’t remember.”
“Then here’s something you might remember. What color are my scales?”
“…….”
Her eyes sparkled with clarity. Derwin knew something was wrong. She was starting to suspect him.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
There was no point in pretending anymore. Derwin thought this might be for the best. With eyes like that, at least she wouldn’t think her fantasy had been shattered. She would just think she had found the wrong person.
“I don’t know.”
He answered honestly.
“I didn’t say so because I didn’t want to hurt you, but… I am not the ‘Dragon Lord’ you’re looking for.”
A heavy silence fell after Derwin spoke.
In the dark bedroom, lit only by a single candlestick, Derwin quietly prepared himself—if she started having an episode, he’d have to knock her out quickly.
“No. You are the Lord.”
But the words that came out of Chanellica’s mouth next were completely unexpected.
“You just… don’t remember who you are.”
Her unwavering gaze left Derwin at a loss for words.
