Erza took her spoon.
She dipped it gently into the soup—not like an animal, not like someone who'd never seen fine dining, but like a professional. Like someone who had eaten at royal tables her entire life.
Yuuta blinked.
He'd expected... he didn't know what he'd expected. Maybe her to eat like Elena—enthusiastic and messy. Maybe to sniff it suspiciously like a cat.
Not this.
Not the elegant way she stirred the bisque. Not the graceful motion as she lifted the spoon, letting a single prawn rest in the creamy liquid. Not the perfect posture, the refined movements, the absolute poise.
She had more dining etiquette than he did.
Of course she does. She's a queen. An actual queen. What was I thinking?
His heart pounded.
This was it. The moment of truth. Presenting a dish to an emperor with anger issues—except the emperor was a dragon queen who could kill him with a thought.
Erza brought the spoon to her lips.
Took the soup in. Let the flavors settle on her tongue.
And stopped.
---
Yuuta watched.
Begged internally to every god he could think of.
Please. Please let her like it. Please let her be satisfied. Please don't let her kill me over bad soup.
His heart hammered.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
The meat melted. The creaminess exploded. The richness spread across her tongue like a wave.
Erza's eye widened.
Just slightly. Just for a moment.
She hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected him to produce something like this. In all her centuries, in all her royal feasts, in all the finest cuisine her kingdom could offer—
She had never tasted anything quite like this.
She covered her mouth with her hand. Elegant. Controlled.
"It's..." She paused. Let the word hang. "Delicious."
---
Yuuta's eyes went wide.
A smile broke across his face—pure, unfiltered relief. His shoulders dropped. His breath escaped in a rush.
She liked it. She actually liked it.
Elena rushed forward. Wrapped her tiny arms around his legs.
"Papa! Mama loves our cooking!"
Erza's eye flicked to her daughter.
"Elena." Her voice was cold. Commanding. "Do not make noise. You are not a peasant child."
Elena froze.
Yuuta froze.
They both sat down immediately—perfectly still, perfectly silent, like children who'd just been scolded by their mother.
Erza returned to her meal.
She ate slowly. Deliberately. Each bite measured, appreciated, savored. She tore pieces of garlic bread and dipped them in the bisque. She ate the prawns one by one. She sipped the soup like it was nectar.
Her face remained cold. Impassive. Icy.
But Yuuta knew.
Somehow—he couldn't explain how—he could sense her emotions. The satisfaction beneath the ice. The genuine pleasure she was trying to hide.
---
When she finished, she set down her spoon.
Yuuta waited. Heart pounding again.
"Your Majesty..." His voice was soft. Gentle. Careful. "Did I... satisfy the queen?"
Erza looked at him.
For a long moment, she didn't speak. Didn't move. Just looked—her violet eye boring into his soul.
Then—
"Well." The word was quiet. Almost reluctant. "I did not expect you to cook this well."
She paused.
"Since you have satisfied me, I will fulfill my promise."
---
Yuuta's face lit up.
But he didn't let his guard down. Didn't celebrate. Didn't relax.
He knew about dragons. Chinese mythology. Japanese legends. Countless anime. Dragons were divine creatures—and divine creatures took promises seriously. Once given, a promise could not be broken.
"Your Majesty."
Yuuta's voice was steady. Respectful. The voice of someone who knew they were walking on thin ice but had decided to walk anyway.
"Can you promise me—under any circumstances—to fulfill my wish?"
He bowed his head slightly. Like a knight requesting a boon from his liege.
---
Erza watched him.
Promise?
The word echoed in her mind. Under any circumstances?
This was unfamiliar territory. In all her centuries as queen, she had never allowed anyone in her presence to request a wish. Such things were beneath her. Unnecessary. Dangerous.
But she had promised. And a queen did not break her word.
Still—she was not naive. History had taught her well. Trickery came in many forms, and mortals were masters of twisting words.
She would not fall for it.
"As I mentioned before." Her voice was cold. Precise. "If your wish stays within my rules, I promise I will fulfill it."
---
Yuuta nodded.
Good. That's all I need.
He took a breath. Gathered his courage. Spoke the words he'd been planning since she first made the offer.
"I want to have conversations with you as an equal."
Erza's eye narrowed.
"I want to talk freely." Yuuta continued, pushing through the growing tension. "Human way. I don't know royal etiquette. I can't live in my own home like a hostage, hiding in corners, afraid to speak."
He paused.
"I want to be treated as an equal. Even if you're still going to kill me later."
---
Erza's aura erupted.
The table shook. The soup rippled in its container—small waves lapping against the ceramic edges. The water glass trembled. The very air seemed to vibrate with the force of her presence.
Yuuta felt death.
Not metaphorically. Not poetically. Actually. Pressing against him from all sides. Waiting. Hungry.
"You want to be treated as my equal?" Erza's voice was ice. "You want to converse with me like we are close?"
Her eye burned.
Yuuta's heart stopped.
She's angry. Really angry. I messed up. I shouldn't have—
But he couldn't back down now.
"You promised, Your Highness."
---
Erza froze.
Her aura flickered.
"I heard from mythical scriptures." Yuuta's voice shook, but he forced the words out. "Dragons value promises as sacred treasures. You said if I didn't break your rules, you would fulfill my wish."
He swallowed.
"I didn't break any rules. My wish stays within them."
---
Erza paused.
Her aura stopped. The shaking ceased. The room fell silent.
She thought.
Ran through the conversation in her mind. Examined every word, every condition, every rule she'd set.
And realized—
He was right.
She'd been outplayed.
He'd asked her during the meal. When she was eating. When her rational guard had dropped—distracted by the food, by the pleasure of the meal, by the simple humanity of the moment.
And she'd promised.
Without thinking. Without considering. Without imagining that a mortal would ask for this.
Equality.
No one had ever asked her for equality before.
---
Erza smiled.
It was not a kind smile. Not warm. But something flickered behind it—something almost like respect.
"It has been a while," she said quietly, "since someone outplayed me."
Yuuta didn't move. Didn't breathe.
"Very well." She picked up her spoon again. Returned to her soup. "I will allow it. I will treat you as an equal."
She paused. Looked at him.
"But I will still kill you at the end of the year." Her voice was matter-of-fact. Casual. Like discussing the weather. "So do not sprout nonsense. And do not expect replies like some yapping human."
She took another bite.
---
Yuuta finally breathed.
His plan had worked. Actually worked. He could talk to her now. Could exist in his own home without hiding. Could—
Hope.
He could actually hope.
Elena tugged at his sleeve.
"Papa?" Her red eyes were curious. Innocent. "Why is Mama smiling? She never smiles."
Elena tugged at his sleeve.
"Papa?" Her red eyes were curious. Innocent. "Elena is hungry. Let's eat."
Yuuta blinked. Right. Breakfast. The food was for tasting, not for the actual meal.
"Of course, little angel. Let's eat."
---
They ate.
Elena attacked her food with the enthusiasm of a tiny dragon who'd discovered that cooked things were actually better than raw things. Soup disappeared. Bread vanished. Her little face was a mess of cream and crumbs within minutes.
Yuuta ate too—slower, more distracted, still processing the fact that he'd just won a verbal battle against an actual dragon queen.
Erza ate in silence.
Ignoring them both. Focusing on her food with the intensity of someone who had centuries of practice at pretending others didn't exist.
---
After breakfast, Yuuta cleared the table.
Dishes stacked. Leftovers stored. The kitchen returned to its pristine state—the only room in the apartment that actually looked like an adult lived there.
When he came back to the living room, Elena was staring at the TV.
Completely clueless. Her head tilted. Her red eyes fixed on the black screen like it held ancient mysteries.
Yuuta walked toward the sofa.
Erza was there too—reading, of course. She'd already finished half his collection and was working through the rest with that terrifying speed.
"Your Highness?" Yuuta's voice was careful. Casual-ish. "Can you move a bit?"
Erza's eye widened.
Move?
For her?
It had been so long since anyone had asked her to move. Since anyone had treated her like anything other than absolute authority. Her claw instinctively withdrew—ready to strike, to punish, to remind this mortal of his place.
Then she remembered.
The promise.
Equality.
Divine oath.
She sighed. Deeply. From the bottom of her ancient soul.
"What the hell do you want, idiot mortal?"
Yuuta flinched slightly. "I was just looking for the remote, Your Majesty. I think I left it on the sofa."
---
Erza stared at him.
This was so... domestic. So normal. So painfully human.
She had promised equality. And a dragon's promise was divine—absolute, unbreakable, sacred.
But that didn't mean she had to like it.
"I allowed you to speak equally." Her voice was cold. "A dragon's promise is divine. So do not insult me with your fake etiquette. Speak however you want."
Yuuta blinked.
Wait. Really?
"Well..." He hesitated. "You see, I was afraid you might kill me. And I didn't know how to speak in front of royalty. So... thank you."
He paused.
"I didn't expect you to understand me when I was struggling."
---
Erza's hand shot out.
She grabbed his mouth. Squeezed.
"How the fuck do you speak so much?" Her eye burned. "Are you a trash talker or what?! I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID!"
Yuuta's response was muffled beyond recognition.
Erza sighed. Released him.
"Sorry, Your Highness." Yuuta rubbed his jaw.
She reached beside her. Grabbed a small black rectangle.
"Here. I don't know what you're looking for, but I think this strange box must be the one."
Yuuta's face lit up. "Yes! This is it! Thank you, Your Highness!"
Erza handed it over.
But something in her expression flickered. Discomfort. Awkwardness. The sheer weirdness of this situation.
She had just... helped him. Casually. Like they were...
No. She couldn't even think the word.
I regret this promise already.
---
AUTHOR NOTE: Dear readers, before accepting any terms and conditions, please read properly. Otherwise, you will fall like Erza. Thank you.
---
Yuuta showed Elena how the TV worked.
He pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life—colors, movement, sound. Elena gasped.
"Papa! Magic box!"
"Kind of." Yuuta smiled. "It's called television. Watch."
He flipped through channels. Cartoons. News. Movies. Documentaries. Elena's eyes got wider with each change.
"Woahhh..."
Erza watched.
Not openly. Not obviously. But her eye kept drifting from her book to the screen. This was... fascinating. A form of communication she'd never encountered. Moving images. Stories told through light. Information delivered directly to the eyes.
She'd seen holograms before. Magic projections. But this was different. Clearer. More advanced.
While Yuuta explained channels to Elena, Erza quietly observed.
Noted everything.
When Yuuta moved to the kitchen to wash dishes, Erza picked up the manual he'd left behind. Channels. News programs. Documentaries. Children's programming. Everything.
She began to read.
---
Meanwhile, Yuuta stood at the kitchen sink.
Hands in warm water. Scrubbing dishes. The familiar rhythm of domestic work calming his frazzled nerves.
The kitchen was his sanctuary. The one place where everything made sense. Where he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.
He'd just finished the last pot when—
Ring.
His phone.
He dried his hands quickly. Picked up.
"Hello?"
---
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
The voice on the other end was female. Loud. Furious.
"College is going to start SOON! I've been trying to reach you since morning! You didn't pick up! You didn't reply! What the hell, Yuuta?!"
Yuuta froze.
Looked at the time on his phone.
8:02 AM.
College started at 8:30 AM.
His heart stopped.
Then started again—racing, panicked, screaming.
"I FORGOT!"
---
He burst out of the kitchen.
Erza looked up from her manual. Elena looked up from cartoons.
Yuuta was already moving—grabbing his bag, shoving books inside, pulling on shoes without bothering to tie them.
"Where are you going?" Erza's voice was cold. Curious.
"COLLEGE!" Yuuta yanked the door open. "I'M LATE! I'LL BE BACK—I DON'T KNOW WHEN—DON'T DESTROY ANYTHING!"
He paused. Looked back.
"PLEASE."
Then he was gone.
The door slammed shut.
---
Erza stared at the empty space where he'd been.
Elena waved at the closed door.
"Bye bye, Papa!"
Silence.
Erza looked at the manual in her hands. At the TV still playing cartoons. At the apartment that was suddenly, strangely, quiet.
"...What just happened?"
---
TO BE CONTINUED