Chapter 17
“Now… will you explain to me what all of this really means?”
A night had passed. Forcing herself not to choose the options of denying reality or bolting from the mansion, Dalia spoke in the calmest tone she could muster.
“Hmm. You don’t seem as shocked as I expected. Did you truly understand? Aren’t you afraid of us?”
“If you’d meant to kill me or devour me, you would have done it already.”
Even at her dry retort, Aaron—whose fur had bristled in tension—gradually let it flatten again.
Dalia herself was astonished, of course, but it wasn’t wholly unimaginable. Most of all, she couldn’t simply brand those who had sheltered and protected her as horrifying monsters.
So I really have become immune to the unreal.
Seeing that she was ready to listen, Khalid began his explanation.
“I am indeed a dragon. But I don’t take human sacrifices or devour people, as human legends claim.”
“That’s right! In fact, we help humans!” Aaron added heatedly.
“…I see.”
“And Aaron isn’t human at all. He’s a fox beastman.”
“I thought beastmen had vanished.”
“They have. Almost all of them have crossed over.”
Her face showed puzzlement at that phrase, and Khalid clarified.
“I only phrased it differently. As you said—it means they disappeared from this world.”
“Then… all the terrible stories about dragons are lies humans invented?”
“…”
“Why leave such rumors unchallenged? With your strength, surely… And besides, isn’t the royal family on your side?”
After all, the Estair dynasty was known for worshipping the terrifying but powerful Black Dragon.
“It’s complicated.”
The words carried the nuance of better not to know. Perhaps it was easier to look away than uncover tangled truths.
But Dalia’s desire to know was stronger. She wanted to understand these strange, uncanny circumstances.
“…I grew up hearing that my mother was devoured by you. If it’s not too much, I’d like to hear the truth.”
She had countless questions. And his existence might even connect to her turning back time, or to the mysterious clock she possessed.
“Miss Dalia, I don’t know why you were told that, but what’s certain is this—Lord Khalid would never eat a human. Never.”
Aaron crossed his arms and spoke with grim force.
“I can’t imagine it either. Then what on earth…?”
“It’s all because of the royal family. Those cursed Estairs.”
Aaron growled, practically chewing on the name.
“Huh?”
“Aaron, enough.” Khalid’s warning came quiet but firm.
“Go outside.”
“I’m fine here.”
“Go.”
“I don’t feel safe leaving you alone with her, master. What if you decide to eat her?”
“….”
In truth, it wasn’t Khalid he distrusted—it was Dalia. Having suffered too much at the hands of humans, Aaron couldn’t simply accept her presence, even if she had saved his master.
Khalid nearly forced him out, but since Dalia assured him it was fine, he let it be.
“Then it’s really true? You don’t eat people?”
“…I don’t.”
So Aaron stayed by her side stubbornly, and their questions and answers stretched deep into the night.
“Then what do you eat?”
“Anything. But I don’t need to eat at all if I don’t want to.”
“Then what about the women’s clothes in the wardrobe…?”
“Aaron stocked them. They were in our sizes, so they didn’t fit you well.”
“No way Aaron thought that far ahead.”
“In the past, I was just a fox nibbling grass in the woods. Considering that, I think I did fairly well in short notice.” Aaron muttered irritably.
Dalia’s face turned wry.
“For someone with such a humble past, you’re awfully skilled in everything else. And just how long ago was this ‘past’?”
“…”
“And Aaron, you yourself are always dressed impeccably.”
“Hmph.”
…So it really hadn’t been a mistake.
Though she learned nothing about gods or the clock, Dalia was relieved that most of the terrifying rumors about Khalid were false.
The god told me, “The black dragon is not an evil dragon. Save the one in the forest.” I never imagined it would be the same person.
Of course, she couldn’t blindly accept everything they said. Still, even if the god had told her earlier, she doubted her reaction would have changed much.
Without witnessing their ordinary, human-like sides firsthand, she could never have accepted them as anything but the monsters of legend.
So rather than believe rumors or human “common sense,” she chose to trust the words of the god who had spoken to her directly.
The next morning, Dalia woke to the sound of a door shutting.
“Who’s there?”
Blinking drowsily, she found no one in the room—only a table by the window set with food.
Slipping from her blankets, she absentmindedly picked up one of the books she’d been reading the night before and approached the table.
It was a flawless breakfast, complete with three kinds of jam and a white-flower centerpiece. She almost went to chase down the mysterious preparer, but the buttery fragrance lured her into the seat.
“Just one bite…”
She pulled a glossy, fist-sized bread roll from the basket. Warm, as if freshly baked.
Splitting it open with a crisp crack, she slathered butter and clotted cream inside, then took a bite.
“—!”
Delicious!
By the time she came back to her senses, the omelet and tea had vanished as well.
“I only meant to take one bite…”
She was full and happy, but somehow felt swept along by circumstances. The buttery aroma clinging to the air only made her wonder more about who had prepared it.
“It can’t have been Khalid. Did Aaron… bake this?”
Neither man fit the image of bread-baking in her mind.
I only stayed because I was asked to. But why are they treating me so kindly?
The question gnawed at her.
“Well, in any case, I should thank whoever made it.”
Satisfied and determined, Dalia headed for Khalid’s room.
But when she burst in confidently, her shoulders slumped.
“Empty…”
She drew back the heavy curtains and looked around. No one. Only the lingering faint scent of ointment and Khalid himself, trapped in the unventilated air.
“Where would a sick man go…”
Opening the window to air the room, she glanced down—and saw a black carriage standing before the mansion’s entrance.
“So someone new has arrived.”
Perhaps a servant. Her heart thudded with anticipation as she hurried downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, she spotted familiar black hair.
Khalid!
She almost called out, but then mischief sparked in her. She crept silently toward him—only for the black head to whirl around suddenly.
“Ah?”
“What the—?”
It wasn’t Khalid. Though the hair was similar, the face and aura were utterly different—young, almost boyishly cute. Up close, she noticed his hair wasn’t pure black either, but streaked with pale gold like scattered sunlight.
He’s tall, so he must be…
“What are you doing! You nearly made me tumble down the stairs!”
The person snapped sharply, their voice high-pitched and indignant. The tone made it clear—he was a young man.
Yet for all his anger, he seemed less threatening than a startled animal.
“Who are you? Were you creeping up to harm me? No wonder the entrance was open! You snuck in through the gap, didn’t you? Wait—was it you who broke the seal?”
He seized Dalia, firing off accusations so fast she couldn’t even answer. With some effort, she pried his hands away.
“I get why you’re upset, but let go for a moment so we can talk.”
“How dare you! Such insolence for an intruder! And this book—how did you steal it? Look at these pages, folded carelessly—barbarian!”
He’d caught sight of the book still in her hand and grew even more furious.
“Ah… This was lent to me by the master of the house.”
“Ridiculous! Lies as absurd as that only prove how wicked you are!”
His endless temper and one-sided accusations were exhausting.
“Let go of me. I’m a guest here. And aren’t you the servant they said would be arriving? Ask the master yourself.”
“How dare you! I am no mere servant!”
“…Ah. Now that you mention it.”
Dalia’s face betrayed recognition. At once, a vein popped on his forehead.
“What’s with that look! Insulting!”
“You must be the one he said had a bad personality but was competent, right?”
She recalled Khalid once asking her preferences about attendants—whether she preferred someone clumsy but kind, or sharp but cold.
Was there a mistake? I clearly said I’d prefer someone warm, even if they’re awkward…
The boy before her looked anything but warm.
“Wh-what? Who dares call me that?”
“….”
Her ears were starting to ache from his shrill, rising voice. Just as she felt the urge to cover them, a welcome voice cut in.
“That would be me.”
Both Dalia and the boy turned to see Khalid. Receiving the double gaze, he looked faintly troubled.
“Khalid!”
“Master! And—wait, did she just call you by name?!”
The boy glared at Dalia, but Khalid intervened.
“Roy, let her go.”
“But Master—!”
His voice was now full of childish pleading, but it was useless. Khalid wasn’t inclined to indulge him.
“Apologize properly and introduce yourself with courtesy. She isn’t an intruder—she’s the young lady you’re to attend.”
“W-what? Then the task you entrusted me with was…”
“Yes. To serve this lady. I considered another candidate, but Aaron strongly opposed and insisted on recommending you.”
Dalia watched the boy’s cute face slowly blanch in disbelief.
Somehow… I feel bad for him.
Looking up at Roy’s tearful expression, she gave him a sheepish smile.
“Hello. See? I told you so.”
“Ugh…!”
