(Erza's POV)
"Can you tell me about the Throne of Atlantis? I heard it chooses its queen itself… because of some strange relics."
Sister Mary's voice carried both reverence and a childlike curiosity. She leaned forward slightly, as though afraid the secret might slip through her fingers if she didn't catch it fast enough.
I exhaled slowly, a wry smile curving my lips. "Yes, it's true. But that stupid throne…" My eyes wandered toward the window, where golden light spilled across the marble floor. "It irritated me to no end when it chose me."
Mary blinked, taken aback. "Irritating?"
"Originally," I said, folding my hands neatly on my lap, "God gifted each Primal Dragon a throne—Hexadryne. They were not ornaments. They were guardians of power, created to choose queens in our stead."
Her eyes widened with awe, her lips parting as though she were hearing scripture itself.
"God knew us too well," I went on, my voice softening with the cadence of old memory. "If dragons fought over succession, entire continents would have burned or Shattered. So He left the choice to the thrones. No dragon could defy their throne will."
A short, humorless chuckle escaped me. "And do you know what the throne has chosen in every age? It has never chosen a male dragon to rule the kingdom. The title of Dragon King is a myth. Throughout history, the throne has always chosen a queen, Sister Mary. Always."
Mary pressed her hands together, almost reverently. "So that is why Monster followed the same tradition… why queens came to be worshipped as rulers."
I gave a slight nod. "Yes. If even dragons—creatures born of divinity—trusted women to lead, Other being believed they must follow the same pattern. That is how the seed of matriarchy spread across kingdoms."
Her gaze softened, but I could feel her hesitation. "I see…"
Silence lingered between us for a breath too long, before I broke it."After my mother died," I began, the words dragging from my chest like stones, "the throne fell silent. It chose no one. For years, it remained dark and lifeless."
The memory pressed on me like a weight I could never shrug off. "It wasn't until the day I first drew my sword that the Hexadryne Throne awakened. That day, I was consumed by rage. Entire villages of corrupt humans fell beneath my blade. I told myself they were evil, and they were—but still… I cannot pretend my hands weren't soaked in blood. For the longest time, I believed the throne chose me because I was merciless."
Sister Mary's lips parted, her face pale. "My Queen…"
I silenced her with a small shake of my head. "But Yuuta—" My voice softened as his name left my lips. "Yuuta told me something I could not see. When I confessed this to him, he reminded me that even though I killed, I also saved. Elves. Dwarves. Goblins. Ogres. Fairies. Even the grey wolves that humans hunted for fun. Mothers lived because of me—mothers who later gave birth to children who would never have taken breath otherwise."
I let out a quiet breath, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "All I ever saw was the blood staining my hands. Yuuta reminded me that every action casts two shadows—one dark, one light. I chose to see only the darkness. The throne, however… must have seen the light."
For a moment, silence lingered, and in that silence I felt the echo of the Hexadryne's power, the weight of its judgment on the day it awakened for me alone.
"Perhaps that is why it deemed me worthy, when none of my siblings were," I said at last.
Mary's fingers tightened around her rosary, her knuckles turning white. "But, my Queen… if you stay away from the throne, will that not wound your kingdom?"
"Of course," I answered, firm and without hesitation. "Without a queen, corruption festers. Slavery returns. Morale dies. A kingdom without its queen is like a body without a heart." My gaze softened, Yuuta's foolish grin flashing in my mind, bright as fire in the dark. "But to me… being with Yuuta is worth more than that cursed throne."
Her lips trembled. "Then… could you not pass the throne to one of your siblings?"
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Possible? Yes. But none of them have ever proven themselves worthy of the Hexadryne." My voice lowered, colder now. "And besides… once a queen is chosen, the throne will not bend to another. Not unless it deems her unworthy. That law is written into its very soul."
I leaned back slightly, my voice quieter, almost confessional. "In theory, I could pass it on. If they walked the same blood-soaked road I once did, if they suffered as I did, the throne might strip me of my title and grant it to them. But my siblings and I… we are not on such terms. If I handed them that power, they would not stop at the throne. They would kill Yuuta. They would kill my children. And that… I will never allow."
The room grew still, the silence so heavy it felt alive.
Sister Mary's shoulders trembled. Her lips quivered as she whispered, "I never imagined… how much you have been suffering, my Queen."
Sister Mary's gaze lingered on me for a long, unbroken moment. Her fingers curled tighter around the rosary resting against her chest, as if holding onto it was the only way to steady her heart. At last, she exhaled, the sound fragile—like candlelight flickering against a draft.
"Losing your mother when you were only seven… falling in love with a human… carrying a child in humalitation, clinging to Yuuta just to stand. A son cursed with black hair, a daughter born with crimson eyes. A boy who even raised his blade against his own father. A throne that binds you to rule, whether you wish it or not."
Her voice faltered, and I could almost see the weight of my life pressing upon her own shoulders. "…You cannot live happily, yet you are denied despair as well. My queen… how do you endure all of this?"
Her words settled over the chamber like a heavy shroud. I did not answer at once. My eyes dropped to my hands folded in my lap—hands scarred from countless battles, calloused yet steady. They had never trembled before an enemy, and yet… they trembled faintly now, when the ghosts of memory pressed too close.
A small laugh escaped me, bitter and cracked at the edges. "It's fine," I whispered, though the word tasted like ash. "I've grown used to it. Perhaps God despises me. Why else would He weave such a fate? Why else would He let me suffer without end?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the candle beside us seemed to hesitate in its flicker, as though reluctant to break the stillness.
When Sister Mary finally spoke, her voice was soft, scarcely more than a thread of sound. "Sometimes darkness stretches long and thick, my queen. It feels endless. But night is never eternal. Sooner or later, the sun rises. A new day always comes. And when that day comes… happiness will return to you. You will thank God then—for letting you live long enough to see it."
Her words pierced deeper than I wished to admit. My head tilted back and a laugh slipped free, fragile this time, as though made of glass about to crack. "Then I pray that day comes soon… before death claims me first."
For a fleeting moment, I felt her kindness tugging at the edges of my resolve, threatening to unravel the walls I had built around myself. I could not allow it. Not now.
Straightening, I smoothed the steel back into my voice. "Enough about me," I said, letting authority reclaim its place in the room.
My eyes narrowed, lips curving faintly. "Tell me, Sister Mary—how did you manage to raise Yuuta? Hm? That mortal must have been more of a headache to you than any throne has ever been to me."
Sister Mary's laughter rang through the room, soft and unhurried, carrying with it a warmth that reminded me of a mother's fond recollection—or perhaps an elder sister reminiscing about a mischievous younger brother.
"No, my queen," she said at last, her eyes creasing with a tenderness that spoke of years gone by. "Yuuta was never troublesome as a child. He was quiet. Fragile. Like a rabbit startled at every sound… or a kitten, always searching for somewhere safe to curl into."
The laughter faded from her lips, leaving a silence that lingered like dust in sunlight. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, as though allowing herself to be pulled back into an old memory. When her voice returned, it was softer, thinner, like parchment worn with age.
"I still remember the first time I met him. I was a prisoner then. The queen herself brought Yuuta before me."
My brows rose at once. "You… were a prisoner?"
Her expression did not change; she spoke as if recalling something inevitable. "Of course. I had once tried to seize the Elven Kingdom. My arrogance led me to the queen's feet, defeated and humiliated. The trial was merciless—they dragged every crime, every betrayal, into the light. In the end, they spared my life only to strip me of everything else. They sentenced me to exile."
Her lips curved faintly, though it was a smile without joy. "You know what exile means for us elves, don't you, my queen? It is worse than chains. To be cut from our homeland, from the mana of our forests… it is to slowly rot while still alive. Most wither away. Others are sold, bound in chains until death. A few die under the claws of beasts, nameless and forgotten. That was the end I expected."
I gave a slow nod. "Yes. I know. Many of the elves who serve under me in Atlantis suffer the same curse if kept from their woods too long. That is why I grant them leave to return, so their souls do not wither."
Her eyes flickered at that—touched, perhaps, by my understanding. But her voice grew distant once more, as if her mind had already returned to the past. "I believed that was how I would die—either by a monster's claw, by the cruelty of men, or slowly, painfully, as my body betrayed me. But instead… the queen placed a child infront of me."
Her voice faltered, though her lips held a small, trembling smile. "His eyes were the color of Red blood, and his hair was black as midnight. At first, I thought he was the child of prophecy—the boy said to one day raise his blade against the world, all for the sake of his beloved. I thought I was being cursed, forced to raise disaster itself as punishment for my sins. But no…"
She opened her eyes then and met mine. What I saw there was not fear, nor regret, but affection that had survived the weight of years. "He was nothing like that. He was innocent. A small boy, fragile and frightened, but desperate—desperate for love."
Her words washed over me like a tide both warm and aching. My lips curved, unguarded, into a smile. I leaned back, letting the memory of that fool's face rise in my mind.
"And do you know who that little boy was, My Queen?" Sister Mary asked, her lips curving into a mischievous smile, her tone teasing as if she already knew the answer.
"Yes," I said softly, my voice rich with pride. "And I know very well who he was, Sister Mary."
A quiet laugh slipped past my lips, carrying with it the kind of affection that only love could give. "He was my fool. My Mortal. My Only husband."
"Yuuta Kounari."
To be continue.
(Yuuta POV)
Well… sorry, guys. You probably didn't sign up to read two women exchanging endless gossip, right? But here I am, stuck in the middle of it. Honestly, I don't even know how many chapters they'll need before they finally run out of things to talk about. Uff… my poor ears.
Just when I thought I was safe,
BAM!
BAM!—the bedroom door shook like someone was about to break it down.
Yeah… you guessed it right.
Erza, My Lizard queen.
Her voice thundered from the other side, "What did you just say, you stupid mortal?!"
Thank every god in the heavens I locked the door beforehand. If I hadn't… well, this chapter might've been the last you'd see of me. I swear, she would've roasted me alive on the spot.
…Anyway, let's just move on before she figures out another way inside.
And, uh… if you're feeling generous or just want me to survive another chapter maybe toss a few powerstones my way. I promise I'll spend them wisely… mostly.
Please ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ.