What I Desire
There was nothing the Empire could not conquer.
That was the slogan of the Arken Empire, which radiated its influence outward from the heart of the Serdes Continent—the central lands that could rightly be called the middle of everything. It was a fine line for stirring the hearts of those who lived within the Empire’s borders. For the people of the outer territories, however, it was pure nonsense of a different order.
When Ferda had still lived under the roof of House Rosnova, he had been taught that truth first of all: the slogan was empty bluster. In reality, the lands of Serdes that remained unconquered were countless, and the East was one of the clearest examples.
The Land of Evil.
A century and a half earlier, the Demon King’s emergence had turned the East into a land seething with demonic corruption. The threat had finally been stopped, yet the aftershocks remained: plants grew with unnatural speed, and animals became several times more savage. That was how the Land of Evil had been born.
Baldrova was the sovereign who reigned over its outermost front line.
That was why they called her the Demon Dragon, wasn’t it?
Whatever the truth, the image the world held of her was that of a vicious dragon—rumors that she was absorbing the Demon King’s residual power to grow stronger, that she was secretly raising monster legions, and so on.
Far too many useless infamies for someone who has actually done so little.
There was no end to the conspiracies whispered about her as if she were a monster who deserved death, yet not once had anyone truly rebuked her or raised a formal complaint. Even a fool knew that plucking a dragon’s whisker was an act of suicide.
Rustle—
Something stirred along the path as he walked. The sound reached Ferda’s ears. The moment he turned a fraction of his awareness toward it—
“There is nothing to worry about.”
The maid walking ahead of him cut him off before he could speak.
“As long as I am at your side, those creatures will not dare attack.”
Monsters after all, then. That was one thing. But did this woman have eyes on the back of her head?
Well, she is the attendant of that dragon. Of course she would be on another level.
Ferda observed her quietly from behind. Her features were doll-like. The maid’s uniform clung to her figure, outlining the body of a girl still clearly in the midst of growing. The soft, rounded lines of the high side ponytail completed the image of a young lady. Had he not met her in Baldrova’s domain, he would have taken her for nothing more than a pretty maid.
“What is your name?”
“Ruri.”
Her reply was flat and dry.
“A pleasure, Ruri. How much farther must we walk?”
“Another two hours at least.”
“That is a long time. It did not seem to take you nearly so long to reach me.”
“Of course not. Alone, I can cover the distance in ten seconds.”
Two hours versus ten seconds. The difference in efficiency was stark.
“Then why not take me to the lair by that method?”
“That would require me to carry you, would it not?”
“You need not worry about me. Flight is something I can endure.”
“No. I simply do not wish to.”
“…….”
The sheer insolence of it was remarkable. Any ordinary maid who dared speak that way in uniform would have been slapped across the face on the spot.
“If you dislike it, then so be it.”
Yet Ferda did not strike her. Too many proud nobles had died for nothing after standing on their dignity in foreign lands—and more decisively, there was her true nature.
A Dragon Spawn.
Dragon Spawns were created through the so-called Ascension Ceremony, in which a dragon chose them and bestowed its blood. Merely accepting that blood awakened magic by instinct and granted tremendous power. Even with a frame as small as hers, she could easily subdue several knights.
And she can even conceal her horns and tail……
That meant she possessed strength on an entirely different plane from ordinary Dragon Spawns. So Ferda simply followed behind her in silence.
Even that was no easy task for a man of Ferda’s frail constitution. His pace gradually slowed; the distance between him and Ruri steadily widened. When the gap had grown noticeable, Ruri glanced back.
“Are you tired?”
Ferda nodded.
“Yes. I am exhausted. Might we rest a moment?”
“There is no time to rest. Move. My master is waiting.”
Silver hair. Silver eyes. The murderous light in those eyes—so at odds with her childish face—urged Ferda’s feet forward once more.
“Hah…… very well.”
Ferda regulated his breathing as best he could. Even getting married, it seemed, was no simple affair.
The Red Dragon’s sanctuary—called a lair—lay a little farther still beyond what the Empire named its outermost front line. After pushing through dense, barely explored forest, one came upon a solitary mountain; halfway up its slopes stood a castle. On clear days the fortress was large enough to be seen even from a great distance.
Some people even mistook that castle for Baldrova’s lair.
Baldrova, however, did not live in the castle. The entire mountain was her lair.
When they reached the entrance, Ruri turned and delivered a cursory list of warnings.
“It is rather dark, but there is nothing underfoot, so please refrain from unnecessary fuss.”
“Understood.”
“Occasionally a stalactite falls…… but do try to dodge it yourself. If you can.”
Ruri’s explanation was thoroughly half-hearted. Ferda merely nodded, refusing to rise to the provocation.
“Understood.”
“Then.”
Ruri took the lead once more and stepped inside. Soon a massive iron door blocked their path—thick, plain, utterly without ornament. It felt less like an entrance than a seal forged with every available resource to keep whatever lay beyond from escaping.
Ruri knocked lightly upon it.
“Master. Your fiancé has arrived.”
No answer came. Instead, a colossal shifting on the far side of the door sent a tremor through the ground itself. Every hair on Ferda’s body stood on end. Even with the heavy iron door between them, he could feel it with perfect clarity: a truly terrifying dragon dwelt beyond.
Thud—
Something hard rapped against the iron. Ruri turned toward Ferda.
“I will receive her message.”
With that she opened a smaller iron door set beside the great one and slipped inside. Silence as deep as a grave settled beyond the threshold. Ferda waited with patience. Three minutes later Ruri reappeared and spoke.
“I will deliver the words of Grand Duke Baldrova.”
She cleared her throat and began.
“I am aware that you have come to this place under the command of the Arken Empire in order to enter into betrothal with Us. That you have set foot here while fully knowing the atrocities We have committed is worthy of praise.”
Ferda disliked the tone. From the context, something negative was certain to follow. His prediction proved correct.
“However, We have no desire to drag you here by force and bind you in betrothal. Therefore return from whence you came.”
For any man who had expected to die, the moment would have been pure liberation. Freedom. The Ferda of his childhood would have bowed in relief and fled at once.
The present Ferda was different.
“Is that so? Then carry this message back.”
Ruri’s brows twitched.
“It is true that His Majesty arranged the match, yet the decision to set foot in this place was made solely by the will of Ferda Rosnova. Therefore I will not leave. I intend to proceed with the betrothal.”
“…….”
Ruri stared at him fixedly. The blank expression on her face was cold enough to unsettle most men; it did not unsettle Ferda.
“Will you not deliver the message?”
“……Very well.”
Ruri opened the iron door again and vanished inside. Ten minutes later she emerged once more, this time laden with bundled goods.
“I will deliver her words. We hold in high regard that you came of your own volition. In recognition of that spirit We shall grant you treasure from Our hoard—funds enough to establish yourself. Take the gold and build a new foundation in a new land.”
Clink—
The pouches held gold and jewels. She tossed an additional sheet of paper toward him; it was unmistakably a certificate bearing the Grand Duke’s seal. Ferda’s gaze dropped to the offering. He looked at the gold as though it were so many stones.
“Go and tell her this: I have no interest in power. I came solely because I wish to be betrothed to Grand Duke Baldrova.”
“…….”
“You continue to waste time. It would not look well for the Grand Duke’s attendant to appear so sluggish, would it?”
Without a word Ruri stepped back toward the iron door.
“……Hah.”
She seemed about to enter, then exhaled a long sigh and slammed the door shut with a bang. Her face remained as expressionless and businesslike as ever. Yet Ferda—who had carried hatred and the thirst for vengeance for so long—could read the emotion in her eyes with perfect clarity.
It was loathing.
“I will not waste words. Turn around and leave.”
The command carried feeling. Ferda was not flustered.
“Rather short for a message from Grand Duke Baldrova.”
“No. These words are spoken by my own will as her attendant.”
She walked slowly toward him. With every step her appearance changed. A pair of horns that seemed to pierce the sky erupted from her head; the skirt that had reached her ankles ballooned outward. She revealed the true form of a Dragon Spawn and leveled its threat at Ferda.
Dragon Fear, is it?
He had expected something formidable, yet this exceeded even that expectation. That a Dragon Spawn serving as a mere attendant could wield Dragon Fear…… Ferda felt his throat constrict and cold sweat trickle down his back. His mind, however, remained perfectly calm. He had witnessed far worse; this was little more than a child’s tantrum.
“I know exactly what sort of creature you are.”
“What sort of human am I?”
“A worthless mortal who cannot control his greed and believes he can seize the heavens with his own two hands.”
Her words carried a loathing grounded in experience.
“Trash who care nothing for my master and think only of the power and ambition they can seize.”
A flicker of recognition passed through Ferda. He had heard something similar only hours earlier, during his conversation with Huren.
“So that is why the Third Prince died?”
Ruri nodded.
“Yes. That man intended to use the betrothal to treat my master like a servant. It was contemptible. I still do not understand how he thought such thoughts would go unnoticed.”
Ferda murmured under his breath.
So that was the reason, after all?
By devouring Baldrova’s heart he had come to understand her emotions. He knew she was no tyrant who would kill the Third Prince merely because the man was beneath her station. The prince had simply painted far too grand a picture. Even his withdrawal from the line of succession had been nothing more than a bid to grasp greater power for a future usurpation.
Above all, he had been far too arrogant.
“Therefore, while my master is still willing to send you away with gold, leave this place at once. If you wish it, I will even carry that body of yours all the way back to the Empire.”
Justified loathing—and loathing that Ferda had done nothing to earn. Yet he felt no anger. He had learned far too much to be shaken by such petty contempt.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, will speak here without a single falsehood, in complete purity.”
He looked down at her with grave eyes.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, did not come to this place because of anyone’s coercion.”
He recalled the emotions he had learned through Baldrova’s heart. She had dreamed countless dreams, and every one of them had been crushed. She had endured slander and hostile stares; inwardly she had battled her own murderous impulses. She had not even been able to count herself among her own allies. And still she had fought without end. That was something even Ferda could never have done.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, desire neither power nor treasure.”
Even if Baldrova herself no longer remembered, Ferda did. He remembered how she had offered her own life so that someone else might be happy. He remembered how she had given her heart even to a man as selfish as himself.
Therefore, even if you do not know me now—
“I, Ferda Rosnova, came to this place purely as the one who will become Baldrova’s fiancé.”
As long as I remember, I will stand on your side.
“We are to become husband and wife. Tell her this: let us clear away misunderstanding by speaking with our own mouths and listening with our own ears—not through the mouth of a servant.”
Ruri’s patience finally snapped.
“You insolent little—! Do you even know who my master is, to spew such—”
A small, delicate hand shot toward Ferda’s throat. The instant those fingers closed, his neck would snap like a dry reed in autumn.
Thud—
Something struck the iron door. In that same instant Ruri recovered her composure. The vibrating Dragon Fear vanished as well. The girl who a heartbeat earlier had radiated killing intent now bowed at the waist toward him.
“Excuse me.”
“Go on.”
Ferda remained composed to the end. When Ruri returned after hearing Baldrova’s will, the doll-like face wore a faintly dissatisfied expression. Ferda sensed good news at once.
“She says she has understood your intent well, and that the betrothal will proceed.”
Just as expected. No matter how insolent the servant, she could not defy her master’s will.
“I see. Very well.”
“Then this way……”
The murderous conversation of moments earlier vanished without a trace; she returned to pure formality. Ferda once again followed behind her.
Late that night, beneath Baldrova’s castle, the dragon’s attendant Ruri returned to the lair. She passed through the sealed iron door and entered the chamber within. There a great dragon of crimson scales lay coiled in elegant repose.
“You have returned?”
Golden eyes pierced the darkness. Ruri offered a greeting both graceful and precise.
“I stand before the greatest among the Twelve Sovereigns, before the absolute majesty of power itself. You rest in a posture truly worthy of one who rules the world.”
“Do I? I am merely lying down.”
“True elegance becomes ugly the moment one tries to imitate it. Only that which has so thoroughly become part of the body that one is no longer even aware of it can be called genuine grace.”
“Is that so……?”
Light sparkled in Ruri’s eyes as though she meant every word. Baldrova reacted as if she could not quite understand.
“Do you truly intend to betroth yourself to a mortal?”
“Was it not what We desired? You yourself respected Our wish.”
“At the time I merely said as much out of reluctant necessity. Even now it would not be too late to change your mind. The courage to reverse a decision is also a virtue of kings.”
She stubbornly urged retraction, but Baldrova shook her head.
“We have no intention of reversing it. That remains Our only thought even now.”
“Tsk……”
Ruri clicked her tongue, face full of discontent. Baldrova paid the insolence no mind and asked:
“Tell Us, then. What manner of man is this one who will become Our consort?”
Ruri shook her head vigorously.
“Do not even ask. He is a pitifully weak human.”
“How weak?”
“I expected a sturdy body since he hails from a knightly house, yet he nearly died of exhaustion just walking here. A frail thing.”
“And?”
“He is extraordinarily ugly. I believed he was eighteen, yet his face looks like an old man’s—clearly he has never taken care of it.”
“Ruri.”
“My apologies. He is rather handsome, actually. The sort of face that has made any number of women cry.”
“That is not what We asked.”
Ruri knew perfectly well what answer her master wanted. She did not wish to give it, yet she had no choice.
“He is…… not ordinary.”
“Not ordinary?”
“I am a Dragon Spawn, one who has received a dragon’s blood. Stirring the fear of mortals is a trivial matter for me. And yet……” She summoned the image of Ferda from her memory. “That man never once feared me. Therefore…… he should be able to look upon you properly as well.”
“Is that so?”
Ruri’s face twisted. That a human could meet a dragon’s gaze head-on was something that simply should not be.
“How fortunate.”
On Baldrova’s face, by contrast, rested a smile.
“To think there exists a person who can face Us in an ordinary manner.”
“Or……dinary?”
“Yes. In an ordinary manner.”
What Ruri knew as ordinary lay at a great distance from this. For human to meet human was ordinary. For human to meet dragon was not. The natural order was that dragons ruled and humans obeyed. Ruri had many things she wished to say, yet she could not bring herself to open her mouth.
In the end, if her master was satisfied, that was enough.