- Let’s Go Together
After the series of events that had unfolded, the dragon now sat comfortably in the royal palace’s reception room.
Reclining against the plush sofa, the dragon quietly observed Mikhail, who was seated across from him. The prince wore a carefully composed expression, trying his best to appear unfazed, but the dragon saw right through the act. Mikhail was still biting his lower lip, seemingly unable to believe that Adrian Heather’s body had finally been found. His hands, resting on his thighs, trembled slightly.
Just then— Someone knocked on Mikhail’s door with a deliberate, dignified rhythm.
Without taking his eyes off the dragon seated before him, Mikhail raised his voice so that it could be heard through the door.
“Tell them to come back later.”
A brief silence followed. Then, the voice of a hesitant attendant slipped through.
“Ah, well, the thing is…”
What now? Mikhail frowned and glared at the door. The attendant knocked again, more quietly this time, and spoke once more.
“Your Highness, I beg your pardon, but at the moment—”
“That’s enough. Open the door and step aside.”
A clear, authoritative voice cut in. It was the Queen.
Before her words had even fully left her lips, the door swung open with a bang, revealing the flustered attendant and a middle-aged woman behind him.
Mikhail clicked his tongue and turned his head away. As the youngest in the royal family, he was still treated like a child.
“I told my son, who’s been cooped up in his room for days, to at least go out for a short walk… but you came back so quickly. Don’t you think that breaks your poor mother’s heart, Mikhail?”
“…I only came back because I’d cleared my head.”
In that moment, as he answered the Queen, Mikhail suddenly remembered the dragon and turned his head in that direction. But the dragon, who looked exactly like Adrian Heather, was gone.
Huh? Where did he go?
Mikhail narrowed his eyes.
“You were having tea, I see.”
“Yes.”
Just to cool off a bit.
Still scanning the room, Mikhail darted his eyes around in search of the dragon.
“Using two cups, all by yourself?”
“…”
Ah, right. The dragon’s teacup was still there.
Two teacups sat neatly on the table, both still steaming. Mikhail pursed his lips and stared hard at them.
Seeing this, Queen Armin gently touched her temple with a finger, clearly troubled.
“Mikhail.”
The Queen no longer wore the bearing of a royal figure. In that moment, she looked at her son with nothing but maternal concern.
“Sometimes, you need to learn how to let go. You know that.”
A teacup for the dead. There was no doubt this all had to do with Adrian Heather.
She had thought it would be good for her son to attend the academy and make friends. But cruelly enough, that friend had died—right before his eyes, no less. Of course the shock would be overwhelming. On that, the Queen wholeheartedly agreed.
Still, watching her son mourn alone in his room for months over someone who had long since passed was painful beyond words. Nothing he did could bring the dead back. Why couldn’t he move on?
“…Yes. I know. I do think I’m getting better little by little, so there’s no need to worry too much.”
Mikhail kept his gaze lowered as he answered.
“But—”
“Even so, I still need more time. I’ll visit you later, so please, just for today…”
“…Then I’ll wait.”
“…Thank you. I hope you have a good day.”
The Queen stood in place for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod and left the room.
Mikhail watched the door close behind her and let out a heavy sigh.
He felt guilty toward his mother, but telling her he had met a dragon wouldn’t do anyone any good. If she found out he’d summoned a dragon to search for Adrian Heather’s corpse, her worry would only deepen.
“You two really are a lot closer than I thought.”
The dragon’s voice jolted Mikhail back to his senses.
When Mikhail turned his head, he saw the man sitting nonchalantly on the reception room’s sofa, as if nothing had happened.
“…Where were you just now?”
“Me? I’ve been sitting here the whole time.”
With a faint smile playing on his handsome face, he shrugged lightly. So he’d been listening in on the entire conversation and was now pretending otherwise? Mikhail looked at him with clear displeasure but chose to speak. In any case, once Adrian’s body was found, the Queen’s misunderstanding would be resolved. And once that happened, he too would be free from this unresolved mystery.
Mikhail glanced toward the man lifting his teacup with an elegant gesture.
“By the way, what should I call you? I can’t very well call you ‘Mr. Dragon.’”
“Just call me Adrian Heather. I mean, I look exactly like him, don’t I?”
Honestly, the dragon found everything about this situation a hassle. This wasn’t a game he had spent years planning, nor was it some variable he had anticipated. It was merely an extension of the remnants from the last game. Using the name he’d been called back then made everything more convenient.
Mikhail parted his lips in disbelief. A faint scoff escaped him.
“…I wasn’t asking for that name. I meant your real name.”
The prince rephrased his question politely but with a cold edge. He already knew the dragon’s true name—Luce Fennigan—a name that occasionally appeared in the old records of the Rustavaran Kingdom.
He might look exactly like Adrian, but this man was a dragon. Mikhail had to draw a line between the two. To him, they were entirely separate beings.
His voice carried a subtle accusation, as if questioning why the dragon insisted on complicating things unnecessarily.
“My real name?”
The dragon gazed quietly at the prince’s expression. Humans possessed such intricate emotional structures. Whether those were signs of advanced development—or of incomplete evolution—was something even the dragon couldn’t say.
“So there are… authentic and fake names, too?”
He seemed genuinely intrigued, watching closely for the prince’s answer. Until now, whenever someone asked for a name, he would give one casually, and humans accepted it without question. No one had ever asked him for his ‘real’ name.
“Forget it. I’ll take that to mean I can just call you whatever I want.”
The prince frowned, interpreting the dragon’s response as mockery. What a temperamental brat, the dragon thought, chuckling softly as he gave a slight shrug. He was now quite curious to see what name the prince would come up with.
“Though I doubt there are many names ‘suitable’ for someone like me.”
“…”
Mikhail stared at him silently for a moment, then quickly changed the subject. Names didn’t matter.
“In any case, I’ll have preparations made for our departure.”
There was only one reason he needed the dragon. Mikhail shut his eyes tightly, then opened them again. He was about to say a word he’d grown tired of hearing.
“…To Hildeke Mountain.”
With his gaze lowered, the prince quietly reaffirmed their destination.
The dragon gave a nod, but then asked, “Wait—preparations? What preparations?”
“The journey from the palace to Hildeke is long. We’ll need a carriage or horses, won’t we?”
Mikhail replied with a tone that said, Isn’t that obvious?
The dragon folded his arms and puffed out his chest proudly. Time to show what Adrian Heather couldn’t—he thought smugly. His arrogance was evident, but it didn’t diminish his overwhelming power. If anything, it only served to reinforce it.
“I shall personally cast a teleportation spell—”
“Teleportation won’t be necessary.”
Mikhail cut him off coldly.
In this age, where mana had dwindled and skilled mages were rare, teleportation magic was virtually unheard of. Even as royalty, Mikhail had never experienced it himself.
More importantly, he didn’t trust the dragon enough to entrust his body to such a spell. Teleportation required the caster to make the person disappear from one place and reappear in another—essentially handing over one’s body entirely to the caster.
“Suit yourself.”
The dragon replied curtly.
In truth, traveling by carriage might be the better option—it would buy more time. There was no need to waste magical energy just to impress the prince.
