Chapter 1 Part 3

The young lord of Bergritz was infamous for his unpredictability.

This wasn’t the petty volatility of a drunk.

He was a man who could be endlessly kind one moment,

then draw his sword the next and sever a neck without warning—

brimming with lethal, merciless force.

Clink.

The sound of ice swirling in Alexander’s glass echoed through the room.

Even Franz, finally realizing the weight of his misstep, swallowed dryly.

“Brother…”

“…Y-yeah?”

Franz tried to widen his eyes as if to resist the fear creeping up his spine—

as if he could convince himself he wasn’t afraid.

His younger brother, who shared only the same hair color, was looking at him with unsettling affection.

“It might be wise to treat your fiancée more kindly.”

Alexander smiled long and slow, lifting his glass to his lips.

“After all… you don’t have many things left.”

“Not many…?”

“As you know.”

His smile deepened.

His golden eyes—reptilian and cold—slid toward Melissa, who stood straight-backed, unmoving.

“Most of what you had… is now mine.”

Franz’s face turned from red to pale in the span of a breath.

What Alexander had taken from him—

was not just the family, the manor, or the title.

It was the dragon.

The House of Bergritz had, for generations, been a bloodline known for taming dragons.

But over time, that power had faded.

With it, their lands and titles were slowly lost—

including Tavalon, once their core territory.

But then Alexander had awakened the power to command a dragon.

Granted the title “Dragon Master,”

he had received knighthood and, upon reaching the age to wield a sword, began leading campaigns—

starting with reclaiming Tavalon, once Bergritz land.

At the time, Franz had believed every one of his brother’s victories would ultimately belong to him.

After all, Alexander was technically of direct blood but born of an unknown mother—a bastard.

He had been raised as Franz’s adopted brother, handpicked by their father.

Franz had believed Alexander would never betray them.

The trouble began when Alexander reclaimed Tavalon and ascended to the head of the house.

With the king’s full support and a newly granted title,

the first thing Alexander did—

was to abandon the entire family and their retainers at the capital estate.

Though he had regained the family’s ancestral home,

he left them behind, saying it was for their safety.

In truth, it was as good as exile.

And what remained for Franz was a withered body, a hollow pride,

and one hostage girl—Melissa.

Alexander’s gaze slid smoothly to her.

Her silver hair—thin as thread—was gathered into a neat updo,

and she wore a white dress, pure as a bride.

At the cuffs, tiny sapphires sparkled, matching the hue of her eyes.

Alexander stared at her delicate face, as if studying whether such fineness suited her,

then took a deeper drag from his cigar.

Smoke filled his lungs.

“Brother,” he said again, his voice casual—

but his gaze never left Melissa.

“How about stopping by Tavalon before the wedding?”

The words, spoken with an easy smile, cut through the frozen air of the room.

“Tavalon is the heart of Bergritz,

and I thought it might do your bride some good to see it.”

“But… Tavalon is still dangerous,” Franz replied hesitantly.

And he wasn’t wrong.

Inside the fortress, things were stable—but certain outer regions remained volatile.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the scorched, war-torn landscape,

hear the rush of blood in the rivers and the savage cries of tribes echoing in his ears.

It was a time of more sleepless nights than restful ones.

But still…

The reason he had come all the way here—

Alexander’s slow-turning gaze landed on Melissa’s flushed neck.

As he exhaled, thick smoke curled around them like a shroud.

He gave a small, mirthless laugh.

“Does it frighten you?”

“N-no, no! How could a girl who’s lived her whole life here go to a place like that?

She’d just cry and cling the whole way, causing trouble for no reason—”

“Brother, there are things that should be said between siblings alone.”

Alexander cut him off without raising his voice.

Melissa blinked in confusion, then realized belatedly that he meant for her to leave.

“Oh, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Flushed crimson, she hastily rose and exited the room.

But Alexander continued to sit there, puffing silently on his cigar,

letting the smoke linger and thicken in the stale air.

The silence weighed down on everyone like iron.

He was slow, almost deliberate—

stepping through the tension as if it were ash under his boots. And when their nerves were fraying to embers,

he finally inhaled deep and spoke, voice low:

“I’ve been putting it nicely since earlier…”

The room dropped to ice.

“…but I see now you took that as me asking.”

 The smile vanished from Alexander’s face—and almost in the same breath, he grabbed the flower vase from the table and smashed it over the young nobleman’s head.

“Aaagh!!!”

It was the same man who had been mocking Melissa moments ago.

He writhed on the floor, clutching his split forehead—

but no one moved to help.

Hhhgh… hhhgh…

The noble whimpered,

only to be silenced as Alexander stepped on his face—

calmly, as if crushing a rock underfoot.

“Everything in Bergritz belongs to me.”

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and growled,

“No one disobeys my command or dares to question it.”

His golden eyes grazed over Franz’s trembling hands.

The force behind that look alone seemed enough to snap them in two.

Franz, ashen-faced, frantically shook his head.

“Fine, fine! I’ll go, all right?!”

“Excellent.”

Alexander gave a sharp smile,

exhaled deeply,

then flicked the lit end of his cigar onto the nobleman’s face.

***

Back in her room, Melissa collapsed into a seat.

From the engagement ceremony to the reception, the entire day had worn her down—

and yet, just the sight of Alexander had lit her heart like a firework.

A man she might see once or twice a year,

always from afar—

and today, he had been just an arm’s length away.

Regardless of the reason,

her heart had surged uncontrollably.

He was still magnificent.

And still—so cold.

“…Still, I was happy.”

Melissa touched her chest and released a long, faint sigh.

Even though everything had been exposed,

even though she was ignored—

she couldn’t discard the feelings that had taken root.

But because they were precious to her,

she would at least treat herself with that same care.

Steeling her expression, she left the room.

Now that a chance had come,

there were words she needed to say to him.

***

“You really need to control that temper.”

Sir Boris, Alexander’s knight, scolded the moment his lord stepped out of the drawing room.

Trailing after him, Melissa rubbed her forehead gently.

“You didn’t do anything to Miss Melissa, did you? She ran off in a fluster—I didn’t even get to greet her. It’s been nearly ten years since I’ve seen her, and all I wanted was to ask how she’s been.”

Sir Boris, now nearing his forties, was a knight by title—

but in reality, he had often acted as acting lord in Tavalon,

managing its affairs alongside the butler and chamberlain whenever Alexander was away in the capital.

As such, he rarely had reason to visit the Bergritz estate in the city.

Alexander’s brow arched slightly.

“Why would you care how she’s been?”

“When you were younger, didn’t I look after you both now and then? Miss Melissa, too. I thought I’d just say hello after all this time.”

It was true.

For a while, both he and Melissa had been left to the wayside by the household.

She wasn’t the only one.

Alexander remembered—

Melissa, all dressed up like a carefully raised bird, lingering near him.

Those large eyes, lit with something strange, always watching.

Just like now.

Unchanged.

“She used to follow you around like a duckling…”

From the very first moment she saw him,

Melissa had hovered near.

At first, all he sensed was a faint gaze watching him.

Then, not long after, those wide eyes came closer—

and before he knew it, the quiet girl was circling him, dropping beside him when he least expected it.

She would try to comfort his loneliness in her own way,

greeting him without fail even when he didn’t respond.

Eventually, she began pulling him by the hand when he ignored her,

saying she had something to show him.

It was a surprisingly bold act for such a timid girl.

Though, in the end, it was only the back garden.

‘This one’s name is Organa. And that one’s Lion…’

She had led him to a corner where wildflowers grew in messy clumps

and recited the names she had given each one.

The blossoms were no bigger than the tip of a fingernail.

‘They’re all my friends.’

Melissa took his hand, gently bending forward.

The weeds brushed her flushed cheeks.

‘If you look really closely, you can feel them whispering. Try it like I do.’

She was so serious.

Despite how he’d ignored her all that time,

Alexander eventually gave in—

lowered his head beside hers and listened.

He heard the rustling of leaves in the wind,

the scurrying of bugs through the underbrush,

and the soft, even sound of her breathing.

‘Do you hear it?’

The young Melissa had smiled shyly.

It was a small smile—

but luminous, impossibly bright.

“When the two of you were like that, it was honestly adorable.”

Boris clicked his tongue, snapping Alexander out of the memory.

To him, the past was just that—

a collection of fragmented recollections,

stripped of meaning.

It had to be.

[“The king?”

“She’s in the study with Lutelros and Bright.”

At the mention of both his foster parents in the same breath,

Alexander let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

They had used his name to summon the king to the engagement ceremony—

and now they were meeting her in private, without him.

This entire engagement had been orchestrated by Franz’s birth mother—Bright.

She, once a princess of royal blood and the current king’s aunt,

had lost the struggle for the throne long ago and entered a humiliating marriage into House Bergritz.

Even in her diminished position,

to see her son’s rightful title seized by an adopted bastard…

It would drive her mad with fury.

If she had her way,

she wouldn’t just want Alexander dead—

she would want his limbs torn apart.

What Bright wanted most in the world

was the dragon.

If she could control it,

she could strip him of his marquessate,

perhaps even make a second bid for the crown.

In this turbulent sea of ambition,

Melissa’s engagement to Franz had only one real purpose.

Alexander walked to the study and threw open the doors.

The guards posted there didn’t stop him.

“Your Majesty.”

“Ah… you’re here.”

The king greeted him with a lazy wave, slouched in her seat.

Across from her sat his father and mother—

Brazen, unbothered.

Alexander gave them a fleeting glance,

then turned his gaze respectfully back to the king.

Queen Remeros Dietmar.

With her blood-red hair and green eyes, she was unmistakably royal—

yet it would be a stretch to call her a lady.

Short in stature,

her sunken eyes and dim, wandering pupils made her seem feeble—

and her pronounced stammer only added to the impression.

At a glance, she was easy to underestimate.

Which made her all the more dangerous.

She delighted in toying with those who did.

His father, facing her alone for the first time,

was visibly unsettled.

Pathetic.

Alexander scoffed inwardly.

“Welcome, Alexander.”

His mother greeted him with calm ease,

calling her stepson by name.

There wasn’t a trace of the hatred she harbored for her royal niece.

Only a perfectly polite ceremonial smile,

carefully arranged across her face.

The son took his mother’s hand and kissed the back of it, lips grazing her skin as if to taste it.

She smiled without so much as glancing down.

“Tavalon must be treating you well. You look refreshed.”

“With monsters running rampant, that’s quite the compliment.”

As mother and son exchanged their barbed pleasantries,

Queen Dietmar tapped lightly on the armrest of her throne to draw the room’s attention.

“…E-Everyone… was s-so very… welcoming.”

The stammering queen had a habit of breaking her sentences into awkward fragments.

“I feel… a little tired now…”

“Oh dear, I must’ve kept Your Majesty too long in my excitement to see you.”

Bright rose with practiced grace.

Just as Alexander had done, she knelt before the queen, pressed a kiss to her hand, and bowed with impeccable form.