(Yuuta's POV)
We were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a battlefield of scattered envelopes, stamps, and papers spread around us. Erza sat beside me, pen in hand, her posture impossibly elegant even while buried in mundane work.
I picked up the first letter from the basket, my fingers pausing as I recognized the handwriting.
James.
The same James who had once tried to adopt me—and later, thanks to my cursed luck, had ended up a beggar I mean not begger though. I rubbed my temples. I hope… I hope he didn't send some angry rant or start insulting me again.
Taking a deep breath, I carefully opened the envelope.
The moment I unfolded the paper, I realized something: I wasn't ready for this. But I couldn't stop reading.
The letter was written in a messy, hurried hand, but the words carried a strange kind of sincerity.
---
Yuuta Konuari,
I know I treated you worse than anyone ever should. I said terrible things to you, misjudged you, and even spoke poorly about your wife and daughter. I know I deserved punishment for my actions, maybe even death for what I said and did. I… I am ready to face the consequences of my mistakes.
But despite everything, I want to thank you. Thank you for saving my only daughter, even when it put your own life at risk. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the orphanage—how I gave you false hopes and then crushed them with my own hands. That was cruel, unforgivable, and I regret it deeply.
Please accept this letter as my apology. I am giving you my contact number—call me if you ever need help with anything. I'll do whatever I can to make up for the wrongs I caused you. Whether it's buying a house or helping you in any other way, consider this my way of saying I am truly sorry. I may have been harsh and foolish, but I want to try to make things right.
Thank you, Yuuta. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Your former father-figure,
James
---
I blinked at the words, then let out a short laugh. "Finally," I muttered, tapping the letter lightly. "He accepts me… not as the cursed child, but as a human."
Erza, who had been glancing over my shoulder, frowned and muttered, "Wait… he abused you? And worse… he insulted me and our daughter? How dare he!"
I waved her off, grinning. "Nah, it's fine. Everything's solved now. Look at the letter—he's genuinely apologetic. He even offered to help us buy a house."
Erza crossed her arms, still suspicious, but I could see the tension in her shoulders relax just a little.
I chuckled and shook my head. "Well, I guess even James can learn humility eventually. Took him long enough."
Erza rolled her eyes. "You really find joy in the strangest things, mortal."
I shrugged, sliding the letter into my pocket. "Hey… if a former nightmare of a father-figure can write a proper apology, anyone can change. That's a win in my book."
"Papa, what are you doing?" Elena's small voice piped up, full of innocent curiosity.
I smiled at Elena. "Well, you see, Papa and Mama are trying to reply to all these letters."
"Letters?" she echoed, tilting her head. Her big, sparkling eyes blinked up at me. "What's that, Papa?"
I chuckled softly. "Hmm… a letter is something you send to someone when you can't visit them in person. That way, they know we're thinking of them and haven't forgotten their kindness."
"Ohhh." Elena giggled, as though the mystery of letters had just been solved.
I reached over and ruffled her soft hair. "So smart! Elena is just like Dad."
"Hmm, wrong," Erza cut in smoothly, not even looking up from the page she was signing. Her tone carried that cool sharpness she wielded so well. "She's like me, not you, mortal."
"Oh, come on," I shot back, grinning. "She might look like you, but she's got my eyes, my smile, and my personality. Not like you, oh cold queen."
That made her pause. Slowly, Erza turned her head toward me, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Cold… queen?" she repeated, her voice low and dangerous.
My grin faltered. "Uh… yes?"
"Is this an insult?" she asked, louder this time, her brows slightly arched.
I raised my hands defensively, like a husband caught red-handed. "No, no, my dear wife—you've got it wrong! 'Cold queen' isn't an insult. It's a compliment.
Her eyes narrowed further. "Then explain," she said sharply. "How is that a compliment?"
I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. "Well… you know, I heard that in ancient times 'cold queen' was a title reserved for unmatched beauty. And since, in my eyes, you'll always be the most beautiful… I thought it fit. That's why your husband calls you his 'cold queen.'"
She studied me in silence, predator-like, as if weighing whether to pounce.
"…unmatched Beauty?" she asked again, flatly.
"Of course!" I said quickly, flashing my best innocent grin. "Have you ever seen your husband lie to you?"
She gave me a long side-eye, exhaled, and shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "I can't even deal with you right now… I'm busy with these letters."
"Phew." I wiped imaginary sweat from my forehead, relieved. "Guess these letters just saved me from my wife's wrath."
Sister Mary's lips curved into a gentle smile as she faced us—or rather, sensed us, since her sight had long time.
"Being married really is fun," she said warmly.
"...It's not," I blurted before I could stop myself.
The room froze.
Erza's Voliet eyes narrowed, their sharp light cutting into me like blades. My back went rigid. My soul whispered in sheer betrayal: You fool. You just stepped onto the battlefield without armor.
"I-I mean—!" I stammered, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a dying chicken. "You're wrong, Sister Mary." My lips stretched into a painful excuse for a smile. "It's not just fun… it's more than fun."
I slowly reached for Erza's hand. Her fingers twitched at the contact, but she didn't pull away. Looking straight into her eyes, the words spilled out before I even realized how raw they were.
"It makes me feel alive. Every single day. Being married with Erza… it gives me a reason to breathe, a reason to live, a reason to love deeply, a reason to stand by her side forever."
The words rang truer than I expected. For just a second, Erza's eyes widened her pupil was trembling. A faint tremor passed through her, as though she couldn't decide whether to feel touched… or embarrassed.
Her cheeks flushed, just faintly. Then—
Whack!
A ledger came crashing down on my skull, knocking me straight into the mountain of letters we had been sorting.
"You shameless mortal!" Erza's voice thundered, her face now scarlet. "What are you saying in front of our child?!"
Stars spun in my vision as I lay sprawled in defeat.
"Ouch.. It's really hurt alot." I said in pain.
Elena scurried over, her tiny hands patting my head. In her sweet, sing-song voice, she began a little chant:
"Pain, pain, go away,
Come again another day,
Papa want's happy again,
Pain, pain, go away…"
I groaned, clutching my throbbing head. "I-I'm sorry, Erza…"
She crossed her arms, turning her face aside with an indignant huff. "Don't disturb me again."
The storm seemed to pass, until another voice broke the silence—deep, steady, and carrying an unusual weight.
"Yuuta."
I blinked and glanced up. "What is it, Grandpa?"
He stood apart from us, his gaze pinned on me with a heaviness that made my chest tighten. His usual calm eyes carried something I'd never seen before—something that felt like dread.
"I've noticed something," he said slowly. "You're becoming bolder with Erza after you woke up."
"Eh? Me?" I tilted my head, still rubbing the sore spot on my scalp. But then the memories hit me. He wasn't wrong. Back then, I couldn't even look Erza in the eye without breaking into a sweat. I couldn't tease her. I barely dared to stand near her.
But now… I could joke with her. Argue with her. Even hold her hand and flirting with her..
"You're right…" I muttered, more to myself than to him. "I really have changed."
Grandpa's brows furrowed. His lips pressed together like he was holding back words too heavy to release. Finally, he murmured:
"It looks like… I was right."
A chill ran through me. "Right? What's right, Grandpa?"
He didn't answer at once. His eyes lingered on my face as though searching for something. Then, with a faint, forced smile, he shook his head.
"Nothing. Just an old man lost in thought. Don't worry yourself, Yuuta."
He turned and walked slowly toward the balcony. The last light of morning sun spilled over him, stretching his shadow long across the floor.
I watched him go, uneasy.
Weird… Grandpa had never looked that serious before.
And what was that he said after I woke up? I got changed.
Hmm… have I really changed? I mean, I do feel like my body is more muscular, and my bones feel completely healed.
And then—like a lightning bolt—it clicked.
"Wait a sec…" I turned my head sharply. "Sister Mary!"
From the kitchen doorway, she peeked out, her hands still dusted with flour, a soft, motherly smile tugging at her lips. The same smile I'd seen since childhood. Too familiar. Too safe.
"Yes, Yuuta?" she asked gently, tilting her head. "What is it?"
I narrowed my eyes. Something about all this didn't add up. "Why are you here? I mean, really—showing up all of a sudden like this?"
Her hands moved to the apron tied around her waist. Calm. Steady. Almost rehearsed. "Well…" she began softly, "I had a bad feeling about you. So I came to check."
"Bad feeling?" I echoed, skeptical.
Her expression softened, though her eyes carried a weight I'd never noticed before. "Yes. You know… I raised you from the time you were small. A parent doesn't always need a reason. Sometimes, when something is about to happen, we simply… feel it."
The way she said it made my chest tighten, but all I managed was an awkward scratch of my chin. "Uh… when you put it like that, I guess it makes sense."
A sharp sigh cut through the air.
Erza.
She sat beside me, her pen gliding across another envelope, posture perfect, expression carved from ice. Her voice came out cool and merciless. "How can you be so dumb?"
I jabbed a finger at myself. "Dumb? Me?" My stamp hit the paper with too much force, leaving an ugly splatter.
Without even glancing up, she said, "Of course. You are a dumb mortal."
"You Evil Dragon".
I was about to defend myself—but then everything shifted.
"Yuuta."
Sister Mary's voice.
Not soft. Not motherly. Not the tone that tucked me into bed at night as a kid.
This voice was sharper, heavier, cutting through the room like a blade.
My hand froze mid-motion. Even Erza stopped writing. Elena tilted her head curiously, sensing the change.
"…Yes, Sister Mary?" My voice cracked slightly.
She stepped fully into the room now, apron tied neatly, her blind eyes fixed on me with unnerving precision. Her hands folded in front of her chest, the weight of her presence pressing down like the calm before a storm.
"There's something I need to discuss with you. Alone."
The word alone landed like a stone in my gut.
"…Alone?" I repeated dumbly.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "It's… a secret. Something important." Her voice dropped, steady but heavy. "I've hide it for a week. But… I think it's finally time you knew."
A chill shot down my spine. This wasn't the Sister Mary I knew. This wasn't the gentle caretaker who always smiled. This was… someone else. Someone who had been hiding something for years.
"Important…?" My throat went dry.
I wanted to demand answers, but her silence told me everything—this wasn't for Erza to hear. Nor Elena. Not right now.
So I swallowed the unease clawing at me and nodded stiffly. "…Alright. Whenever you're ready."
She smiled faintly, but it was brittle, cracked, as though forcing her lips to move. It didn't reach her eyes. Not even close.
Then she turned her face away, her back retreating toward the dimly lit hallway.
I sat there, frozen, letters forgotten, the uneasy feeling in my chest tightening with every breath.
What was she hiding?
And why… did it feel like she'd been waiting for this exact moment all along?
(Grandpa's POV)
The balcony was quiet, touched only by the soft rustling of leaves. Morning light stretched across the garden, yet my eyes were fixed on nothing at all. My thoughts were elsewhere—on Yuuta, and on Erza.
Their love… it has become deeper than I ever imagined.
At first, I believed it was ordinary affection, the kind shared between husband and wife. Warm. Gentle. Human. But now… now it feels far stronger. Perhaps too strong.
I rubbed my beard slowly, unease curling in my chest. If things continue this way, the day they are torn apart will not simply wound them—it will destroy them both.
Erza's fate is clear. Once her wish for Yuuta is fulfilled, she is meant to leave. That has always been the path before her. But looking at them now, the way they cling to each other, the way their love consumes them… I fear neither of them could endure such an ending.
And then, there is the strange part. The part I cannot explain.
Yuuta's love… it isn't just human anymore. No, it carries something else. Something I have only ever seen in dragons.
I gripped the railing tighter, the wood creaking beneath my hand. How could that be? He is human—or at least, that is what I believed. Unless… perhaps he isn't, not fully.
I know he was created in a lab. I've seen his memories, but the earliest pieces are missing, locked away beyond my reach. And in that silence, in that hidden past… lies a question I cannot answer.
Still, there is one truth I do know.
When dragons fall deeply in love, they change.
For a male dragon, it begins slowly. At first, he may look at others female, but over time, his eyes see no one but his chosen mate. Beauty no longer tempts him. Desire no longer stirs. No matter how many others surround him, Lust can't over take him, his heart and body belong to one alone.
And for the female dragon… it is the same. Her thoughts, her desires, even her instincts—everything narrows until her entire world is centered on the mate she has chosen.
It is a powerful bond. Stronger than chains. Stronger than magic.
But it is both a blessing… and a curse.
Because once it happens, there is no return.
And lately… I have seen signs of it in Yuuta.
The way his gaze lingers only on Erza, even when others are around. The way his words, his laughter, his very breath seems to circle back to her. Even his clumsy jokes—always, always for her.
I closed my eyes, a heavy ache pressing against my chest. If this is true… if Yuuta is beginning to change… then maybe there is hope because it's mean he can live more than human life. A fragile hope that he and Erza may remain together, not only by choice, but by nature itself.
I opened my eyes again and looked back toward the house. Laughter drifted faintly from within—warm, innocent, alive.
For a moment, I almost envied him. Yuuta, who still carried joy so easily. Yuuta, who did not yet see the storm on the horizon.
But I could not share in that peace.
I exhaled slowly, the weight of decision pressing on me. "No… I must see for myself. I need to know if Yuuta is truly changing."
The weight of that decision pressed on me like stone. If Yuuta truly is changing… then everything—his fate, Erza's, perhaps even the world itself—would be decided by it.
I lifted my gaze to the brightening sky, speaking softly, as though the stars still lingered to listen.
"Please… let the test prove it. Let it be true."
Because if it was, then maybe—just maybe—the love they share would not end in tragedy.
To be continued…
✨ Author's Note (The Weight of Time) ✨
A lot of readers were wondering—why is Grandpa so obsessed with Yuuta's life span? Why does he keep talking about extending it?
The reason lies in how dragons see time. For them, sixty human years is nothing more than six years. To Yuuta, that's a lifetime. To Erza, it's just a brief chapter.
Yuuta is only twenty now. If nothing changes, he might live another sixty years. But to Erza—who is barely nineteen by dragon standards and destined to live for over two thousand years—that's like saying, "you get to be with the love of your life for only six short years, and then he's gone forever."
Now imagine this: if Erza allows herself to fall too deeply in love, the grief of losing Yuuta could destroy her. Dragons are powerful, but their hearts are fragile when bound by true love. When Yuuta dies, Erza's soul may not endure the weight of it. She could very well follow him into death—not because she is weak, but because her love would be too strong to survive separation.
And what would that mean? Elena and Yuri, their children, would be left alone. Elena, especially, would feel the shattering pain of losing not just one parent, but both. The bond between mother and daughter is already delicate; to lose Erza after Yuuta would break Elena's spirit beyond repair. And if Elena's heart breaks… then the heir's line, their entire legacy, might vanish forever.
This is the truth Grandpa sees—the reason he fears love blooming too soon. His obsession isn't selfish. He knows the chain of tragedy that could follow if nothing is done.