Side Story: The Dragon’s Mate
One who defies fate and achieves the impossible—such a person, we call a “Hero.”
“Whew, it’s freezing today.”
Clack! As the carriage door swung open, a sharp gust of wind forced its way inside. The weight of a filthy boot tilted the carriage slightly before it settled back to its original position.
At the same time, someone already seated inside the carriage glanced over at the unwelcome newcomer—a man with sharp features and piercing red eyes. Perhaps sensing the scrutiny, the intruder offered a greeting without missing a beat.
“Nice to meet you. The coachman said there were still seats left, so we thought we’d ride along. Seems this is the last carriage, huh? Good thing the heavens are on our side—on a day like this, we’d freeze to death out there.”
Despite the man’s friendly tone, the seated passenger’s gaze didn’t soften in the slightest.
“…It’s already full.”
The red in the man’s eyes seemed to flare with irritation.
And understandably so—he had just paid the coachman several times the usual fare to ensure a comfortable, private ride. It would be a long journey to reach the heart of the Delbaran Kingdom, and the last thing he wanted was to share the cramped space. That generous pile of gold had been handed over mere minutes ago.
Mikhail’s brow furrowed deeply.
“Now, now, no need to be so stingy. Looks like there’s more than enough room for two more.”
The intruder shrugged as if Mikhail’s displeasure didn’t concern him in the least. With a thump, he dropped into a seat and patted the space beside him a few times with his palm.
“Come on in, sit down. You’re letting all the cold in.”
“Oh? Uh, yeah. Okay, sure.”
At the man’s urging, the person who’d been hesitating outside the carriage finally stepped in and settled into the remaining seat.
At that sight, Mikhail shot them a cold glare and rose to his feet.
What a nuisance.
He was deciding whether to complain to the coachman—or simply throw them out himself.
“Mikhail.”
The blond man who had been sitting silently next to the temperamental Mikhail turned his head and spoke. At the sound of his voice, the large man—who had been on the verge of storming out of the carriage—froze mid-step.
“It’s an empty seat anyway. I don’t mind.”
The man with the bright blond hair smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling softly. It was a fresh smile—one that seemed to melt away the winter chill.
“If you’re upset because of me, there’s no need.”
Tch. Mikhail turned his head sharply at Adrian’s words, then slowly sat back down in his seat. He had been a little irritated at the comment about freezing to death outside.
The man’s shameless attitude was annoying, sure—but it wasn’t like he’d committed a crime. And if Adrian said he was fine with it, then so be it. Their private trip might’ve just been ruined, but it was only a matter of days.
Watching Mikhail begrudgingly settle back into his seat, the intruder grumbled,
“…Man, what a prickly guest. But hey, you’re letting us ride, yeah? We’ll keep quiet as mice, so just bear with us.”
Whether you do or not…
Adrian and Mikhail both returned to what they had been doing, as if offering a seat was the full extent of their charity. Flip— Adrian turned another page in his book, while Mikhail did nothing but gaze at him in silence.
But the promise to stay “quiet as mice” didn’t last long. In true form, the same brash intruder who had forced his way into the carriage spoke up again not long after.
“So, we’re mercenaries, just wandering across the continent without a plan. But you two—what kind of pairing are you supposed to be?”
The warmth inside the carriage seemed to loosen his tongue.
“Not a hint of hardship on either of your faces. What is this, a nobleboys’ vacation or something?”
Neither of them had anything they could proudly present in a situation like this. As Adrian continued flipping through pages with an indifferent look, it was Mikhail who answered in his place.
“…I didn’t realize temporary travel companions were expected to share their full biographies.”
“Sheesh, all I wanted was a little fun on a boring trip. No need to get all prickly about it, yeah?”
“Guess that kind of thing is fun for you.”
Not for us, though.
Mikhail muttered under his breath as he smoothly drew the sword strapped to his hip. With some extra time on his hands, he figured he might as well give it a proper maintenance.
“Huh?”
The man who had been silent up until now—the one sitting beside the noisy intruder—finally reacted. At the same time, Mikhail’s eyes snapped up in sharp alert.
“That sword… I swear I’ve seen it somewhere before… Is that maybe one of the Renato Series?”
It was one of the Renato Series. In fact, it was the most obscure blade of them all.
With the sword of Fellen Deeps—already famous beyond imagination—left behind at the palace, Mikhail had reluctantly chosen this one as a substitute.
“No.”
Mikhail cut off the man’s curiosity with a cold voice. At that, the guy nodded knowingly, leaning back into the cushioned seat with a smug expression.
“Ah, a replica, huh? Figures. That hilt did look pretty shoddy up close. Tsk. If you ask me, a real swordsman shouldn’t chase after famous swords—they should make their own blade into a legend.”
At that unsolicited advice, Mikhail’s brow twitched.
The hell does he know? Spewing this crap without knowing a damn thing. Shoddy? Replica? This is the real deal, you idiot.
But of course, there was no way he could actually say that.
“…It’s a decent sword, in its own way.”
As Mikhail muttered, lips twitching slightly in irritation, Adrian—who had somehow ended up watching him—let out a small, amused chuckle.
Of course it’s a decent sword.
Seeing Mikhail deflect the question so coolly reassured Adrian a little. Sure, this was a relatively mild encounter compared to the barrage of questions they’d likely face during the journey ahead—but still.
The man, oblivious to the effort Mikhail had just made, simply shrugged and quipped,
“Naturally. Even a knockoff of a legendary sword is still a legendary sword, right?”
Clench. Mikhail’s grip on the sword tightened.
Well… that was cutting it close. Adrian nodded to himself as he watched the scene unfold, then slowly opened his mouth.
“Anyway…”
It was time to change the subject. Letting the conversation linger on that sword would only bring trouble on their end. Turning to the window, Adrian brought up the most universal of human small talk: the weather.
“Delbaran’s deep into winter, huh? Looks like the cold’s gonna stick around for a while. I can’t stand winter, honestly.”
For someone who couldn’t stand winter, Adrian didn’t look all that bothered.
That was because he had plenty of tricks up his sleeve. Being a dragon—a cold-blooded reptile unable to regulate body temperature on his own—he always had to rely on heat magic or enchanted tools to survive the winter months.
Just then—
“You cold?”
Mikhail’s voice came with a sudden warmth—pressing gently against the back of Adrian’s hand, resting atop the carriage seat. Adrian’s gaze immediately dropped to where he felt it.
Mikhail, perhaps realizing what he’d just done, turned his head sharply toward the window in embarrassment. But the hand on top of Adrian’s didn’t move. If anything, the pressure only deepened, the grip growing firmer.
“I—”
The tips of Mikhail’s ears had flushed the faintest shade of red.
Across from them, the two mercenaries’ eyes shifted toward the intertwined hands. That sharpened instinct, honed to a deadly edge by years of survival, gave a slight ping in the air.
The talkative man leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, elbow propped on his knee. Two mysterious men, reluctant to share anything about themselves…
A single hypothesis formed instantly in his head.
“Ah, lovers? You make a good-looking pair.”
The man grinned as he looked at Mikhail, who—up until now—had seemed like a brooding hardass. But now, just for a second, he came off almost… human. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Mikhail who answered—but the blond man sitting beside him.
“Yeah.”
For Adrian, it was more convenient if they assumed that from the start. They were mercenaries, after all—people they’d never run into again after leaving the Delbaran Kingdom. So it was fine to say it.
Back at the palace—and even now—Mikhail seemed to genuinely care for him, so in the dragon’s mind, their relationship was that of lovers.
But then—
“No.”
Mikhail immediately denied Adrian’s answer.
“We’re not. Not yet.”
Not yet?
Adrian tilted his head slightly at the word Mikhail had tacked on.
The mercenaries’ faces twisted into confused grimaces at the strange answer to what was a pretty straightforward question.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Beats me.”
Their eyes met, sharing a silent exchange before both chose to keep their mouths shut. And finally—at long last—the silence they had promised upon boarding settled over the carriage, quiet as a mouse.
