The two of them rode leisurely in the carriage.
There was no reason to oppose it if the prince wanted to stretch out their time together. After all, unlike humans, time to a dragon was both an infinite resource and something utterly trivial.
Two magnificent horses pounded the ground with their hooves, pulling the expensive carriage along at a swift pace. Yet even at this speed, it seemed it would take quite a while to reach their destination. Already bored, the dragon slowly leaned back against the plush cushion.
“…Luce Fennigan.”
“Hm?”
“That’s your real name, isn’t it?”
The dragon turned his gaze from the window toward Mikhail. It had been a long time since he last heard that name. Carlo had once called him that, and now his descendant was calling him by it again. After indulging in so many amusements, things like this were bound to happen. Mikhail couldn’t possibly know, but to the dragon, this was rather entertaining.
With a faint curl of his eyes, he smiled and replied.
“Mmm, if that name’s more comfortable for you, then go ahead and use it.”
…Another strange answer.
Mikhail shook his head and rested it on the elbow propped against the window. If Luce Fennigan was really his name, why pretend otherwise? He had no idea why the dragon kept answering like that. Still, he was a little relieved. No matter how identical their appearances might be, it was impossible for him to call that man Adrian Heather.
“Has this happened often?”
“What do you mean by ‘this’?”
Luce immediately returned the question, sensing the caution in Mikhail’s tone.
“Granting the wish of the one who summoned you.”
“This is the first time. I told you, didn’t I? It’s a rare opportunity that might come only once every few hundred—or thousand—years.”
“…Does granting the first king Carlo’s wish count among those instances?”
“That was a very special case.”
Luce replied with a slight pout. Truthfully, granting Carlo’s wish had been an impulsive act done in a fit of temper—not exactly something he enjoyed bringing up. Looking back now, that impulsive decision had even affected the fate of Carlo’s descendant, Mikhail.
“Then the rumors about a romantic affair between you and the first king… No, never mind.”
Mikhail barely caught the words before they slipped out.
Suddenly, he realized that whether or not that grand tale of love—immortalized in the founding myths of Rustavaran—was true didn’t matter in this moment.
“What? Haha—no need to worry. It wasn’t for some romantic reason like that.”
Pfft. At the prince’s unexpectedly cute question, Luce let a small smile play on his lips as he turned his head back toward the window.
“I don’t dislike humans… but I don’t like them enough to make life-altering decisions over love.”
His tone was laced with cynicism.
The prince quietly observed the dragon’s expression. Humans revered him, yet he didn’t even particularly like them? It was a rather tragic contradiction.
Just then—
From the front of the carriage came the sound of the driver pulling the reins. A moment later, there was a gentle knock on the outside of the passenger compartment—a signal that they’d be stopping here to rest.
“Ah, we’re stopping in the Catlery Province, huh?”
As soon as Luce stepped down from the carriage, he gazed upon the village with a gentle, benevolent smile. Mikhail started to turn his gaze away but quickly looked back at the dragon’s face.
“…Did you change your eye color?”
The dragon’s golden eyes had turned into a dull brown without Mikhail noticing. With that, he now looked completely identical to Adrian Heather. Luce answered brightly in response to the question.
“Yup. Blonde hair is one thing, but once you add golden eyes, humans start to get suspicious.”
He smiled faintly, his eyes curving with a strange glint. To the prince—who knew this man wasn’t Adrian, no matter how perfectly he resembled him—it was a smile filled with unsettling nuance.
Leaving the carriage at the outskirts of the village, the two men slowly stepped toward its entrance. The carriage was made of such lavish materials that bringing it into a small village would’ve drawn the attention of everyone there.
The Catlery Province had the modest charm befitting a small village. The “entrance” was simply where the stone-paved road began, and the sign marking it seemed to have been hand-painted by a village artisan, complete with a detailed map. Unlike the newly developed cities near the capital, this village bore the unmistakable touch of human hands. It was a place steeped in history.
“Mind if I choose the restaurant?”
It was phrased as a question, but Luce wasn’t really asking for Mikhail’s opinion. He had already passed the village entrance and was walking along the winding cobblestone path.
“Go ahead.”
The prince had never been one to place much significance on meals anyway. As if expecting that response, Luce beckoned to him.
“There’s a hidden gem in this village. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Sure.”
Mikhail shrugged and followed behind the dragon.
He was the kind of person who could demolish a full course meal prepared by the royal palace’s head chef without batting an eye. No matter how good a restaurant in a small village claimed to be, there was a limit to what it could offer. He was eating simply because he was hungry, not because he was the type to savor flavors with delicate care.
The uneven surface of the cobbled road pressed directly into the soles of his feet. Having grown accustomed to the finely polished marble floors of the Academy and the royal palace, Mikhail was now fully aware of each step’s texture beneath him. Luce, walking lightly ahead of him, almost seemed to be enjoying himself. Mikhail kept his eyes on those brisk steps until the dragon suddenly stopped, prompting him to raise his gaze.
Here?
“This is the place.”
The spot Luce confidently led the prince to had no sign—nothing that marked it as a restaurant.
Wait, was this even a restaurant? Mikhail tilted his head. It looked more like a private residence.
“This… doesn’t seem like a restaurant.”
Mikhail’s words carried an unspoken meaning: So much for being so confident—are you sure you haven’t gotten us lost?
“It is a restaurant. My memory’s perfect.”
Ignoring Mikhail’s skepticism, Luce rapped his knuckles firmly against the wooden door of the house-like building. Hearing the bold knocking, the prince wondered if this was how businesses operated in this village.
Just then—
Creeeak. The wooden door opened, and a face peeked out. It belonged to a boy just tall enough to reach Luce’s chest. Judging by his irritable expression, he’d just been woken up from a nap. At the sight of the child, Mikhail immediately assumed the dragon had made a mistake.
“…What?”
Annoyed by the unwelcome intrusion, the boy glared at the handsome man who had knocked on the door.
“This isn’t the Horaiya Restaurant?”
Luce bent forward slightly, peering directly into the boy’s face. His golden hair shimmered softly like threads of light as it swayed with his movement. Staring at a man who looked nothing like a normal human first thing after waking up, the boy could only gape in silence. Clearly used to this kind of reaction, Luce gave a casual prompt.
“Hmm?”
“Ah…”
The boy finally came to and replayed the question in his mind.
“The Horaiya Restaurant…”
The name Luce mentioned was one even the boy recognized. He tilted his head as if confused why the man would ask.
“…was here… I think. A few decades ago… Wait a sec.”
Realization finally dawning on him, the boy turned his head back inside and called for his mother. From deeper inside the house came a voice: “Why? Who is it?”
Huh? A few decades ago…?
The dragon muttered to himself. The restaurant he had so confidently led the prince to had apparently ceased to exist decades ago. At the boy’s call, an elderly woman slowly made her way to the door. She studied the unexpected guests with visible confusion. They didn’t look like the sort of people who would wander into a tiny countryside village.
Sensing the flood of questions in the old woman’s eyes, Mikhail stepped in.
“Would you be willing to recommend a good restaurant nearby? We’ll compensate you.”
Judging by the dragon’s stunned expression, it was clear they wouldn’t be dining at the place he’d brought them to after all.
“Mark, can you do that?”
“Yeah!”
The boy, apparently named Mark, nodded while his eyes stayed fixed on the coin Mikhail had pulled out. The old woman gave him a few restaurant names, then lifted her gaze again. Her eyes rested intently on Luce’s face.
“By any chance…”
After a brief pause, she finally spoke.
“Have we met before?”
She asked the dragon with a puzzled tone. Tilting his head slightly, Luce replied,
“Perhaps.”
This had once been a specialty restaurant known for its spiced chicken dishes.
Whenever the dragon had business near the capital, he used to stop by the Horaiya Restaurant in this village. Over many visits, he’d grown familiar with the chef—and had often played little tricks on the daughter the man would bring along from time to time.
Several decades ago.
So that little girl had grown up to be her. In all the time it had taken that human to grow into an old woman, the dragon hadn’t changed in the slightest. Horaiya’s roast chicken had been truly delicious. Regretful, the dragon reluctantly stepped away.
Wherever the boy led them next, it was unlikely to compare to the meals Horaiya once served.
