Lord and Dragon

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A dream come true

Synopsis: I think Fruys really is a great dragon

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We became the largest power in the northeastern region of Finanse after the annexation of Lord Kaller’s territory. The other large states eyed us like a tiger watching its prey, and many of the small and medium-sized fiefs came to pledge allegiance to us.

Singing songs of victory the entire way, we rarely suffered any defeats thanks to Fruys’s help. The troops and officers were all in high spirits, and they couldn’t hide their complacency that arose from our stream of triumphs. Andy and I saw all this and couldn’t help but feel worried.

Once again, we won yet another battle and our territory expanded a little more to the west.

But this time, Fruys did not fly back to his treasury to sleep after the fight. He even refused his portion of the treasure, and told me, "I’ve pretty much recovered. You don’t need to give me this much anymore. Repair your archer towers and catapults instead. Just look at your defenses; you think it’s any better than trash?"

He looked cold and disapproving.

This was despite the fact that dragons didn’t have facial expressions as obvious and rich with details as humans did.

Fruys was actually concerned about the fief. Touched and unsure how to reply, I could not help but lift my eyes to look at him. "Frau..."

Fruys was in a fluster. He lifted his front claws but looked like he didn’t know where to put them, and he ended up staring back at me. He spoke in a low voice: "Why are you crying? Who bullied you? I’ll beat them up...Don’t cry. This time—no, next time as well, and the next time after that, why don’t you keep all the treasure that we seize?"

’Who’s crying?’ I silently retorted. There’s no way that I, the great Lord Smith, would be such a weak and fragile man.

I think it must be because I told him stories about how my territory was being bullied from the beginning that Fruys now has the impression of me as a frail, feeble organism.

After half-heartedly urging him back to his room and returning to my own, I happened to catch my reflection on the dressing mirror—my eyes were red and brimming with moisture.

I chastised myself in my head—looking like this, it was no wonder Fruys thought I was crying. It was a good thing that nobody saw me like this.

Though... I guess it’s my fault for having such intense emotions that my tear ducts easily water up?

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Truth be told, I know perfectly well that I’m a very sensitive person. The tears would easily start flowing at the slightest stimulation, and I could cry like there’s no tomorrow even if nothing happened.

However, I knew that I ought to be more like my father—a strong and tough man.

That’s why I haven’t watched a tragedy in the theater with a large public crowd in over ten years.

I only occasionally dared to light a candle in the middle of the night with no one around, and quietly read an anthology of Haider, the greatest tragic poet of the modern age.

It was my secret indulgence to cry until my face was a tear-smeared mess.

As such, I brushed off how easily my eyes turned red today as due to being too busy with work and being unable to read poems for too long.

I decided to go vent tonight a little bit.

In Kaller’s library collection, there was ?The Poet Haider – From Across the World – Anthology Edition?.

I had already considered this book my own.

Taking it from underneath my pillow, I lighted a candle and started reading.

My pajamas, pillow, and blankets were all soaked in no time at all. I closed the poetry anthology after I was satisfied and curled up inside the velvet quilts to sob quietly.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of something hard hitting the window.

I crawled out from under the blankets, hurriedly wiped my face, and tried to look calm as I peered out the window.

Fruys was tapping on the windowpane with his wings.

I opened the window, and the cold night air gently blew in.

Fruys looked at me with an expression I had trouble understanding.

"I was about to go to bed when I noticed that the lights were still on here. Also, there were sounds," he explained.

I remembered that a dragon’s senses were much sharper than an ordinary human’s. He lived right next door to me, and our balconies were connected. He would naturally notice if I had the light on.

I didn’t know what to say. However, there was no way I could say that I was crying from reading Haider’s poetry.

I could only lower my head, and tell him, "It’s nothing."

Fruys was silent.

After some time, he asked me, "Do you want know how it feels like to fly?"

I looked up at him with astonishment.

After spending almost a year with him, I knew very well that dragons were extremely proud. I gave up long ago on the notion that I’d be able to ride on his back for a quick flight.

I think my eyes and the expression on my face completely gave me away.

Hurriedly draping on a cloak, I pushed the door to the balcony open and headed outside. Fruys had flown some distance away, and he swooped back in like lightning before biting my lapel and twisting his neck to place me on his back.

I was completely caught off guard and had a dizzy spell for a moment. By the time I got a hold of myself, my arms had already wrapped themselves tightly around his neck by instinct.

Fruys brought us shooting straight into the skies with a loud roar—the moon, the stars, and rolling clouds all seemed like they were just within my reach. The night air was very cold, but I was too excited and ecstatic to mind.

I could see a panorama of my fief and the neighboring territories—the earth and the sky were vast, and I could even see the still Sea of Death. Over there, on the other side of the sea, was Fruys’s home. And there was even a larger world over the horizon.

My heart suddenly felt at peace and warm. It was as if the vast expanse of the unknown no longer made me afraid. All I needed was to follow my heart, and continue moving forward.

One mustn’t grow arrogant from victory nor lose heart from defeat.

Fruys slowed down, and we drifted among the moon and the stars in silence.

Only when I pressed flat on his back, shivering, did Fruys once again pick up speed. We returned to the fortress very quickly.

When I was back on the balcony, he drew his face close and nuzzled my neck.

"You’re so cold." His voice like ice berry wine had a ting of annoyance. I suddenly found myself being picked up by the lapel again and placed on his back before being carried into his room. He used his claws to brush me off and envelope me in the embrace of his belly.

Curled up against his chest like that, I felt like some kind of small animal that was wrapped in the palm of his hand.

However, the euphoria of experiencing my long-cherished wish soon occupied my thoughts, and I immediately fell asleep in Fruys’s arms while reminiscing the sensation of soaring over the sea of clouds.

I think Fruys really is a great dragon.

He was nothing like those dragons in the stories—those powerful, bad-tempered dragons who reigned over the skies like tyrants, those human-despising creatures who destroyed cities and laid waste to the land.

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