“Well then…”
Mikhail glanced at Luce, who was clad in a black robe, and opened his mouth. It wasn’t particularly hot, but he recalled that just a moment ago, Luce had grumbled about the robe being a nuisance.
“You don’t have to keep wearing that robe inside the carriage.”
“Forget it. I’ve already put it on, might as well leave it.”
Luce answered curtly.
Since he had already made a pact to grant Mikhail’s wish, leaving anything that could interfere with fulfilling that wish would be a disadvantage even for a dragon.
When a dragon uses mana to form a contract with a human, it’s called Yong-eon, and it holds absolute power over the dragon. If a dragon fails to uphold a Yong-eon, the mana embedded in the contract would become a poison, gradually leading the dragon’s true body toward death.
Fortunately, as long as Mikhail accepted the corpse made from the mandrake planted in the dragon’s lair, the wish could be completed.
Screech—
Suddenly, the coachman yanked hard on the reins to stop the carriage. Startled, the two horses pulling it raised their front legs high into the air. The inside of the carriage jolted with a lurch, then came to a sudden halt.
Knock knock knock.
The coachman tapped on the carriage to inform the passengers of the situation. At the sound, Mikhail promptly slid open the small window at the front of the cabin.
“What’s going on?”
“The road ahead has collapsed. Looks like there’s been a landslide.”
“What?”
Mikhail twisted his lips in displeasure at the sudden news. This route had been the fastest, most direct way to Mount Hildeke. With this obstacle, they’d have no choice but to take a detour.
“Come to think of it, what month is it now?”
Luce, who had been silently listening, chimed in. Mikhail answered the dragon’s question with a sullen expression.
“It’s September.”
“Hmm… a landslide in September, huh.”
Luce’s eyes narrowed as he looked out the window.
What came into view was the dry forest path they’d been traveling through, lush greenery, and clean, unweathered tree stumps. Beyond that, the dragon’s keen gaze took in the narrow stream winding through the woods in the distance. If a torrential downpour had caused a landslide, that river would surely be running with greater breadth and speed.
“Judging by the state of the forest, there wasn’t any heavy rain. Then… an earthquake, maybe?”
Mikhail tilted his head at Luce’s words, speaking up with some skepticism.
“I don’t think so. This area’s inland, part of Rustavaran.”
Earthquakes occasionally occurred in the coastal towns of the kingdom, but they were rare in the inland regions. Basamiel Academy had been an exception. Though, to be fair, the tremors there hadn’t been natural to begin with.
“Really? Then I’ll just take a quick look around.”
“Huh? There’s really no need to—”
Clack.
Before Mikhail could finish his sentence, Luce had already stepped out of the carriage and lightly shut the door behind him.
…There’s really no need, though?
Mikhail slowly lowered the hand he’d raised to stop him and let out a sigh. Hah. The dragon was far more self-willed than the prince had anticipated. To think the late king had traveled with such a dragon for years… Mikhail couldn’t help but feel a newfound respect for Carlo de Inehart, the first king.
Sitting alone, rubbing his temples with a troubled look, Mikhail lifted his head when the coachman spoke through the open carriage window.
“Um… Your Highness? Would it be alright if we rerouted and stayed the night in a village at the foot of the mountain?”
“Do that. Since one of our party stepped out for a moment, we’ll head for the village once he returns.”
With no real alternatives to the coachman’s suggestion, Mikhail agreed to change their course and stood up from the sofa. He had no idea what the dragon had gone out to check, but he didn’t have time to waste dawdling on the road.
As soon as he stepped out of the carriage, he saw that the road carved through the mountains had indeed been severed by a mass of earth, just as the coachman described. A considerable heap of soil, rocks, and debris—including fallen trees—completely blocked the path.
Mikhail spotted the dragon, still wrapped in his black robe, crouching down to inspect the soil. He walked over and asked in a low voice,
“Did you confirm it?”
“Yeah, more or less. Just as I expected.”
Just as he expected?
At the dragon’s indifferent reply, the prince cast a glance toward the heap of earth. No matter how he looked at it, it was just a pile of dirt.
“…Is there something unusual?”
“Nothing in particular… but this’ll stretch the schedule a bit.”
Luce shrugged lightly and lifted his head. Mikhail added, as if he’d expected that answer.
“Yes. We’re planning to stay in the village at the base of the mountain for tonight.”
“Oh, really?”
At Mikhail’s response, Luce’s eyes gleamed. A village right at the foot of this mountain, huh? The dragon gave a satisfied nod and turned swiftly back toward the carriage.
“Great. Then let’s get going.”
Watching Luce stride off, Mikhail stared absently at the mound of earth beside him.
Still, he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.
***
While the escort knights scouted out a place to stay in the village they’d rerouted to, Luce and Mikhail stepped out of the carriage to take a brief walk and look around. Just as they began strolling, something caught Luce’s eye.
“That’s supposed to be me?”
Aside from the golden hair and those annoyingly common brown eyes, there wasn’t a single similarity. Luce was staring intently at the wall. A tall man draped in a black robe, glaring at a missing person poster with fierce concentration—it was enough to look suspicious. Maybe that’s why a few people passing by glanced their way uneasily. But Luce didn’t care about such trifles right now.
“…This is strange.”
He lifted his hand and ran his palm over his cheek, muttering gruffly. The rustling of the robe brushing against itself followed the motion. Hearing that mumble, Mikhail offered an explanation.
“We did commission the most famous portrait artist in the kingdom, but it’s not quite as accurate as one drawn in person. And back then, things were hectic… the search party had to be assembled urgently, so—”
The moment the dragon saw the portrait, he immediately hit Mikhail where it hurt. Mikhail himself had thought the likeness was lacking. But mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped speaking.
Wait, why am I explaining myself to a dragon? The thought struck him like a bolt, and he snapped back to reality.
Luce listened to Mikhail in silence, then scoffed, hmph. His eyes still hadn’t left the portrait on the wall.
“Even without this robe, I doubt anyone would recognize me. The fool who approved this portrait did a miserable job.”
“It’s not… that bad.”
The very “fool” in question—Mikhail—poked his head out from the side. Miserable? What exactly is? He glanced at the portrait again. It resembled the target enough to aid the search. Witnesses had been questioned, a reward posted… and now the subject didn’t even think it looked like him? That was a serious problem.
Luce tapped his index finger against the portrait’s forehead.
“See here? This portrait has a beauty mark on the right side of the forehead. You can’t find someone with wrong details like that. Either the paint accidentally splattered, or someone gave the artist bad info.”
“…”
Mikhail stared at the spot Luce was pointing to and furrowed his brow. What’s wrong with the mark? He turned to Luce, puzzled, eyebrows twitching ever so slightly. But the face visible beneath the robe’s hood wore a look of complete certainty.
“Is this some kind of ancient joke? I don’t get it.”
“A joke?”
Luce’s expression didn’t suggest he was teasing. He meant exactly what he said. Mikhail hesitated for a moment, then asked softly, “…Pardon me.”
Huh? Luce quietly watched Mikhail’s sudden action unfold. Since humans couldn’t possibly harm a dragon, he let it happen.
Mikhail’s long fingers slid beneath the edge of the robe. With practiced grace, he gently lifted the cloth.
Sffft—as the upper part of the robe parted, sunlight pierced through the previously dark interior. The brilliant golden hair hidden beneath the jet-black robe shimmered so brightly it was almost blinding. Mikhail’s hand—more rugged than one might expect from a royal—carefully reached for the locks resting against Luce’s forehead. He delicately swept them aside with his fingers.
There it was: a tiny mole, right where the portrait had it.
“It’s not wrong. You really do have a mark here.”
Mikhail’s red eyes slid slowly toward Luce’s face. They’d shared a room, but this was the first time he’d touched his face from so close. He could feel the soft curve of Luce’s cheek under his fingertips. Somehow, this moment felt like he was gently stroking Adrian’s hair…
Swish—! The moment Mikhail realized what he was doing, he jerked his hand back. He quickly pulled up the robe’s hood, once again concealing the man beneath.
“…Have you not looked in a mirror since you were summoned?”
“Well, I suppose not.”
The dragon regarded Mikhail with an odd expression, clearly bemused by this unexpected behavior. Mikhail seemed to believe this body was entirely separate, wholly human—but in truth, it was the same body the dragon had used for countless eons. In other words, even during his time masquerading as Adrian Heather, it was this body he had worn.
So he says he loves Adrian… and yet, when you truly care about someone, do you even end up memorizing the tiny mark on their forehead?
Luce ran his finger over the spot where the portrait’s mole had been placed. Beside him, Mikhail clenched and unclenched his hand, replaying the instinctive gesture he’d just made, a light sheen of sweat forming on his palm.
