#014

The study was quiet. Cullen rested his chin on his hand, gazing out the window. Before him was a scholar whom he had silenced two days prior by throwing his sword. Perhaps having tasted the brink of death had made him noticeably more docile.

He had entered for a lesson, but as Cullen remained silent, the scholar also maintained a suffocating silence, watching for cues. It was only after twenty minutes that Cullen finally spoke.

“Do you prepare gifts when you offend someone?”

“What?”

The scholar hastily asked back, then quickly added.

“U-usually, yes.”

Then, he was greatly surprised and knelt on the floor.

“I am sorry, Your Highness! This lowly one was insensitive. If you give me just a moment, I will prepare a tribute for His Highness…”

Cullen turned his head. For a scholar, he seemed to lack talent in grasping context.

“It is not necessary. I was merely asking a general question. Rise.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

He, who had acted with undue familiarity, took a deep breath with a pale face. He glanced at Cullen again and cautiously spoke.

“May I ask what this is about?”

“No.”

Cullen said firmly. The scholar closed his mouth.

“Are gifts necessary when apologizing?”

“It depends on the person, but… perhaps…”

The scholar’s expression became ambiguous. He leaned in as if to share a secret and asked.

“Did you say something that offended someone you care about?”

Seeing Cullen’s expressionless face, he quickly retreated. Wiping the sweat from his glistening forehead with a handkerchief, the scholar finally offered advice befitting an etiquette teacher.

“Your Highness, you are second only to His Majesty, so it is not necessary. However, if you truly wish to apologize sincerely, offering a gift that suits the other person’s taste is a good method. They will be very pleased.”

“Is that so?”

Cullen still thought his question itself was not wrong. If he could go back to that day, he would have asked the Dragon the same thing.

However, leaving the Dragon’s mood as it was was clearly problematic. Judging by yesterday’s reaction, unless the Dragon was an exceptionally skilled actor, he seemed unrelated to his mother’s death.

The fact that he did not lie also inspired trust. Hadn’t Cullen himself decided to enter into a contract because of that very point? Therefore, the Dragon could, for now, be excluded.

They had made a transaction, and Cullen needed the Dragon. Thus, he needed to appease him. At least on this matter.

Besides… it kept bothering him.

“Then, do you know what the Dragon likes?”

“…What? Dragon… Your Highness?”

“You wouldn’t know. You’ve likely never seen one.”

Cullen concluded it himself. Without giving the scholar time to answer, Cullen asked again.

“Is there anyone in the palace who knows a lot about Dragons?”

“As far as I know… no. Information about him has been treated with utmost secrecy. In the first place, only His Majesty can meet the Dragon.”

Cullen was the exception. In that case, he had no choice but to find out himself. The only place to get clues would be the royal-exclusive library.

“I understand. You may leave.”

“Um, forgive my presumption, but the banquet is only five days away. Etiquette lessons…”

“I have no intention of becoming the perfect royal you desire within five days.”

It was impossible. It wasn’t his area of interest, and above all, he had no desire to dance ridiculously. If he was the one with the greatest authority, wouldn’t it be fine to do whatever he pleased? If it were about military matters or other academics, perhaps, but etiquette was truly worth less than a dried dung beetle.

Leaving the scholar, who looked dejected, behind, Cullen quickly left his quarters. With large strides, he reached the Central Palace in one go and stood before the door leading underground.

It was the same as before. The door opened when he touched it. An unpleasant crimson light stung his eyes.

Descending a long spiral staircase, Cullen entered the unpleasant library. He decided to examine all the books inside. There was no harm in knowing about the other party.

He took out the dusty books one by one. However, there was little success. Like the legends of Carias Larkan, most books were torn whenever they were about to mention Dragons. As a result, he couldn’t learn about the Dragon’s preferences or habits, nor could he obtain new information.

It was clearly removed in batches by someone. Who did this? Was it the Larkan dynasty again? What were they trying to hide?

Cullen leaned against the wall and thought of the Dragon who had buried the bird. A being without even a name. One who had never left the palace except to kill people. A being who must have spent unfathomable years alone.

He recalled a fairy tale about Dragons. The Dragon agreed to Larkan’s proposal to find a being like himself. If so, the Dragon… must have always been alone.

My mind was in turmoil. The profound loneliness I had felt while having a nightmare suddenly resurfaced. The Dragon was more emotionally transparent than anyone I had ever seen. There was no way such a being wouldn’t feel loneliness.

And Cullen knew the feeling of being left alone better than anyone.

Struggling to bring his wandering thoughts back to the present, he picked up another book. The book, opened without much expectation, surprisingly had all its pages intact.

After turning the first page, which bore only the title, numbers appeared.

Year 540, Campaign in the Marquessate of Grove, approximately 3,000 casualties, the first campaign since Carias Larkan.

Year 890, Campaign against barbarians who appeared in the Duchy of Ruffellon, 2,500 casualties, the second campaign.

Beneath the entry for 890, a small, scribbled note was added.

The Dragon refused the campaign… forced…

The writing was partially erased. Cullen continued reading.

Year 1205, Extermination of the Viscountcy of Livron for insulting Crown Prince Elien Larkan. Approximately 250 casualties.

Year 1461, Treason of the eastern nobles led by Duke Jenix. Approximately 12,000 casualties in the eastern region. This included the Duchy of Jenix, as well as the County of Cost and the Viscountcy of Anan.

Cullen’s expression gradually hardened. The numbers were specific and immense, beyond imagination. The Dragon’s description of a sea of human blood was true. Cullen glimpsed the source of his fury.

Cullen remembered the moment he killed a person for the first time.

Killing inevitably leaves a mark on the soul. Whether one is born evil or good, no one forgets that sensation.

If the Dragon had been someone who enjoyed killing, who reveled in slaughter, all these massacres would have held no meaning for him. Rather, they would have been enjoyable.

However, the records clearly stated that the Dragon had ‘refused.’

Cullen did not know what it felt like to commit a massacre against one’s will. He could not presume to understand the Dragon. But he now understood why the Dragon so vehemently despised Larkan.

Why… why go this far? Do royalty have no conscience?

He gripped the book tightly. The old book crumbled as if it would disintegrate at any moment. Cullen put the book down and rubbed his face with dry hands.

It felt like a small thorn had lodged itself in his heart, gnawing at him uncomfortably. The Dragon’s anger, as if he had committed a grave sin, flashed before his eyes. This was unlike him. Whether the Dragon was angry or in any situation, it was none of his concern. He had only done what he had to do.

Nevertheless, he felt he should apologize.

Because they had made a deal. That was the only reason. If the Dragon didn’t look at him, this relationship couldn’t continue.

Cullen returned the book to its place and slowly stood up. While pacing the library to clear his troubled mind, he discovered something he hadn’t noticed before. Something was drawn on the wall behind a bookshelf in the library. He tilted his head slightly and examined it closely.

The drawing was simple. A person holding a sword, a Dragon looking down at them, and in the center, a woman with the moon behind her. It looked like a drawing that continued from something, but both ends of the mural were so faded that nothing remained.

He studied it for a long time, but that was all there was to the drawing. Cullen turned away for now. He thought it would be better to consult the library’s books related to mythology regarding that drawing.

More importantly, he had a place to visit first.

The door to the North Palace did not refuse Cullen. He had inwardly thought the Dragon wouldn’t let him in, but he entered without any incident or rejection. However, there was no sign of the Dragon.

“…Dragon.”

Cullen called out to him. He had been thinking about it, but this title felt strange.

“I have come to apologize.”

On his way to the palace, he had pondered how he could offer an apology that would please the Dragon. First, he dismissed the idea of a gift. The best gift he could procure at the moment was limited to items from the Imperial Palace. He didn’t think the Dragon would like it.

So, Cullen prepared something else.

“I have something I wish to give you.”

Cullen looked around. Only trees were visible. Was it not here? Just as he thought that, a voice came from above.

“I do not wish to see your face.”

Cullen looked up. He wondered if the Dragon was floating in the sky like last time. However, the Dragon was not visible.

After scanning the air for a moment, Cullen soon saw a dangling white foot from a large branch above. It felt like he was witnessing an inexplicably obscene scene. He quickly averted his gaze. His fingertips grew warm.

“Then I will speak here.”

“Speak.”

The Dragon seemed to permit that much.

“I do not believe I was wrong. As there is no trust between us, I asked what I rightfully needed to ask.”

Because of that, he had gained the conviction that he could trust the Dragon a little, a little more, so it was definitely so.

“Did you not say you came to apologize?”

The Dragon showed displeasure. Cullen moved his lips, and with a sigh, spoke again. He seemed to have offended him again. Dealing with the Dragon was incredibly difficult.

“I have never apologized before.”

“It shows.”

“So, I prepared a gift instead.”

Leaves rained down. The Dragon seemed annoyed.

“I have no need for gifts from the Imperial Palace.”

“It is not an object. I wish to give you… a name.”

Without any certainty, Cullen spoke slowly.

“…A name?”

Unexpectedly, the Dragon showed interest. Cullen tilted his chin up. He could see the face looking down at him from the branch. With his blond hair falling prettily, he seemed intrigued despite squinting. A hint of curiosity flickered in his blue eyes. He looked like a cat.

“Yes, a name. You can tear it up if you don’t like it.”

…Did it work? Cullen cautiously gauged the situation. The Dragon remained silent for a few seconds, then spoke.

“This is the first time I’ve heard such a proposal.”

It was clear that no Larkan had ever even attempted to give the Dragon a name. Not even his mother, with whom he seemed to have had interactions.

Of course. No one names their tools.

Cullen unconsciously furrowed his brows and stared at him.

“…Did no one give you a name? Not even the goddess?”

“The goddess merely created me; she did not give me a name. This body itself seems to be to her taste. It has been ages since I last conversed.”

The Dragon lay down on the branch. He rested on the branch, which was ample enough to support his long form. He urged Cullen on.

“Speak.”

Cullen hesitated, not knowing if the Dragon would truly accept his offer. Naming someone was the first time since Roach. Even then, he hadn’t put in this much effort. Roach’s name was derived from his habit of eating many insects.

Hesitating, Cullen slowly uttered the name.

“Iyerkiyens… it is.”

In truth, it was a word that had been lingering in his mind even before he thought of gifting a name. It had suddenly come to him the moment he saw the Dragon burying a bird. He hadn’t intended to tell the Dragon, but it turned out this way. It was an ancient language he had heard from a merchant long ago, the only one he knew.

“…It’s an ancient language.”

The Dragon’s expression became subtle. He thought that a name with such a meaning might not suit a being like the Dragon. It was at that moment.

“I naturally assumed you would know. If you don’t like it…”

“No.”

The Dragon shook his head. His long hair cascaded from the branch. A faint smile appeared on his face, which had been full of displeasure.

“I like it.”

Long sunlight shone lovingly through the gaps in the leaves. A breeze, neither hot nor cold, blew. Pear blossoms swirled in circles, enveloping the tree. His eyes, curving in arcs, were filled with pure joy. It was a more human smile than that of Cullen, who was human.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Cullen hesitated, then decided to say one more thing.

“May I use that as the name, and call you by a shortened version?”

“What are you referring to?”

Iyerkiyens was beautiful as a word itself, but it was cumbersome to say every time. Cullen spoke the name he had truly wanted to give.

“Kiyen.”

Perhaps he had unconsciously thought it would be nice if it had a similar resonance to his own.

“Kiyen?”

“Yes.”

A white pear blossom, fluttering, fell onto Cullen’s eyebrow.

The Dragon, no, the one who now had a name, leaped from the tree. Silently, he approached Cullen. From the ground, covered only in grass, slender flower stems began to sprout. The leaves fluttered as if in joy.

“You are doing something I like for the first time.”

Even as petals kept falling onto his hair, Cullen did not step back. It was right that he couldn’t.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Kiyen’s brightly smiling face.