The Headmaster's voice carried clearly across the hall as he approached the final name on his list. After announcing countless families throughout his years at the academy, he had learned to recognize the anticipation that filled a room during moments like this.
"The last name," he said, "is the Konuari family."
A ripple of whispers spread through the hall.
Several families turned their heads, searching for the people who had secured the final place. Some appeared surprised, while others looked disappointed. Those who had watched the red-eyed young man throughout the day exchanged knowing glances, remembering his unusual behavior during the interview and the dance he had shared with the silver-haired woman beside him.
Yuuta noticed none of it.
His attention remained fixed on the large screen displaying the selected families.
There, written in shining golden letters, was a name he recognized.
Konuari.
His family's name.
Elena's name.
For a moment, he simply stared, afraid that the letters might disappear if he looked away.
Then a smile slowly spread across his face.
It wasn't the nervous smile he usually wore when trying to appear confident, nor the awkward expression he sometimes showed when Erza caught him off guard.
It was genuine happiness.
The kind he hadn't experienced since childhood, before life had taught him that wanting something badly enough didn't mean he would ever receive it.
Tears began gathering in his red eyes.
He raised a trembling hand toward the screen.
"Erza," he said. "Erza, look. Look at the screen."
But Erza wasn't looking at the screen.
She was watching him.
Yuuta suddenly slapped himself across the cheek.
The sharp sound drew several startled glances from the surrounding families, but he barely noticed them. His cheek reddened beneath his own hand, and yet his smile remained.
"It's real," he said. "It's real. We did it. We actually did it."
His voice trembled as tears streamed down his face. He tried to steady his breathing, but the happiness overwhelming him was too great to contain.
He covered his face with both hands, laughing and crying at the same time.
"We did it," he said. "We did it, Erza. Elena is in. She got in."
Erza stood beside him, watching his shoulders shake.
She had already seen their family name on the Headmaster's list, so the announcement hadn't surprised her. What she hadn't expected was Yuuta's reaction.
He was crying openly in front of strangers, completely unconcerned with how foolish he might appear.
And somehow, watching him made her chest feel strangely tight.
She had celebrated victories before. She had conquered enemies, secured kingdoms, and witnessed entire armies bow before her.
Yet none of those triumphs had ever made her feel what she was experiencing now.
It was an unfamiliar warmth, one she couldn't explain.
Before she could understand it, Yuuta lifted Elena into his arms.
The little girl's silver hair fluttered as he raised her into the air. Her small wings spread instinctively, and her tail curled around his arm while she laughed at her father's excitement.
"We did it, sweetheart," he said, his voice cracking. "We did it."
Elena wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. "Papa is crying," she said. "Why is Papa crying?"
"Because Papa is happy," he said. "Because Papa is so happy."
He gently lowered Elena before turning toward Erza.
His eyes were still wet, and the smile on his face showed no sign of disappearing. He bowed his head slightly, remembering everything she had done to help him reach this moment.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much. For helping. For teaching me. For" He stopped. He swallowed. He looked up at her, and his eyes were full of something she did not have a name for. "For everything. Even though I do not deserve it."
Erza regarded him silently.
She wasn't accustomed to receiving such sincere gratitude, particularly from someone who had spent so much time irritating her.
Yet rather than acknowledge his words, she narrowed her eyes at the foolish smile still spread across his face.
"Stop smiling like an idiot," she said coldly, her tone sharp enough to cut through the air between them.
Yuuta let out a quiet breath, but the smile didn't fade. If anything, it softened, becoming something calmer, steadier.
"I can't," he admitted, almost helplessly. "I just… can't seem to stop."
Erza's expression remained cold, though something dangerous began settling beneath her violet gaze.
"I see," she replied, her voice dropping into something colder, more deliberate. "Then perhaps I should show you how easily that smile can disappear."
Yuuta blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden change in her tone.
"…Pardon?" he said carefully. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"
Erza took a slow step toward him.
Even without releasing her aura, her presence carried enough authority to make an ordinary person instinctively retreat.
"When a man faces his own death," she said, her voice quiet but absolute, "that smile vanishes. It always does."
Yuuta considered her words before slowly shaking his head.
"That's not necessarily true," he said, still respectful, but no longer backing down.
Erza's eyes sharpened.
"Not true?" she repeated, almost softly. "Have you ever watched someone die?"
She didn't wait for an answer.
"I have," she continued, her tone calm in a way that made it far more unsettling. "I have seen them beg. I have heard them plead for mercy. I have watched the moment their courage breaks… when they finally understand what stands before them."
Her gaze remained fixed on his face.
"They all look the same in the end," she said. "Fear. Desperation. Regret."
She stepped closer.
"You would be no different."
Yuuta fell silent.
He understood that Erza wasn't speaking hypothetically. She had killed countless enemies throughout her long life, and he knew she had already decided what would happen to him when their agreed year came to an end.
Yet instead of arguing, a faint smile returned to his face.
"That may be true for others, Your Highness," he said quietly, his tone calm, unwavering. "But I believe I would be different."
Erza said nothing.
Yuuta met her gaze without hesitation.
"The day you decide to kill me," he continued, "you may find yourself facing someone who does not beg."
His expression remained gentle, but there was unmistakable conviction behind his words.
"I won't ask for mercy. I won't run."
He continued smiling.
"I will accept it… and I will still be smiling."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Yuuta added quietly,
"So that, at least once," he added softly, "you might see that I was right."
Erza froze.
The celebrations surrounding them seemed to fade into the distance. She could still hear the families speaking and children laughing, but none of it held her attention anymore.
She could only look at the mortal standing before her.
He had spoken about his own death as though it were something he had already accepted.
She knew he understood her intentions. From the moment she appeared in his apartment, she had made it clear that she intended to kill him once their agreement ended.
Yet he had continued living beside her, preparing meals, buying clothes for Elena, and doing everything he could to secure their daughter's future.
He had even asked her to dance.
And now, after everything, he was telling her that he would face his death without begging for mercy.
With a smile.
Erza felt an unfamiliar discomfort settle in her chest.
She had watched countless enemies die, and she knew how fear transformed people when they understood their lives were ending.
But Yuuta wasn't trying to convince her to spare him.
He was simply telling her how he intended to face her decision.
Somehow, that frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
Yuuta had already turned away.
He lifted Elena into his arms again and excitedly pointed toward the screen, telling her about the school she would attend, the uniform she would wear, and the friends she might make.
His laughter returned as though their conversation had never happened.
Erza watched him quietly.
He was celebrating a future he was working so hard to give their daughter, despite knowing he might not live long enough to see much of it.
The thought left her strangely unsettled.
She had promised herself that she would kill him.
He had wronged her, abandoned her, and left her to raise Elena alone while he continued living without knowing what she had endured.
She had every reason to hate him.
And yet...
Her gaze drifted toward Yuuta as he spun Elena gently in his arms, making the little girl laugh.
She tightened her fingers at her sides.
She was going to kill him.
She had to.
No Matter What.
Erza looked away.
The hall gradually began emptying as the families who hadn't been selected were escorted toward the exits.
Some protested angrily, demanding explanations from the officials. Others blamed their children or argued with their spouses, unable to accept the disappointment.
A few remained seated in silence, their expressions revealing how much hope they had placed in the academy's decision.
Yuuta watched them leave.
For a moment, he felt an unexpected sense of gratitude.
Not because he believed himself superior to those families, but because he had been spared the disappointment they were experiencing.
Elena had been accepted.
He wouldn't have to return home and explain why his efforts had failed.
At least, that was what he believed.
Once the rejected families had departed, the Headmaster addressed those who remained.
"I congratulate you once again," he said. "You have passed the interview. You have proven that your children are worthy of the education this academy provides."
He paused, allowing the families to settle.
"Now we must discuss the matter of payment."
Yuuta's hands tightened around the arms of his chair.
The Headmaster spent the next half hour explaining the tuition fees and additional expenses associated with attending the prestigious academy.
He also described the scholarship process, including the test that would determine which families qualified for financial assistance and the risks involved in participating.
Yuuta listened carefully.
He had heard much of this information earlier in the private lobby, but hearing it explained before the selected families made the situation feel far more serious.
Admission was only the first obstacle.
Now came the question of whether he could actually afford to send Elena there.
"Those who wish to proceed with payment may do so now," the Headmaster said. "The necessary documentation will be provided. Your children will begin their studies next month."
A murmur spread through the hall.
Families began rising from their seats, gathering their children and approaching the officials waiting near the registration tables.
For them, the difficult part was over.
They had the money to pay the fees, and their children had already secured admission.
Yuuta remained seated.
He watched the wealthy families complete their arrangements, their expensive clothing and confident expressions reflecting lives very different from his own.
He didn't envy them.
He had spent the entire day struggling to reach this point, and despite everything, he was determined to continue.
Elena deserved a future filled with opportunities.
And he wanted to be the father who gave them to her.
The Headmaster's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Those who wish to take the scholarship test may remain since test has been started. The rest of you are dismissed."
The hall gradually emptied as the families who had chosen to pay the tuition gathered their belongings and followed the officials outside.
Only eight families remained, including the Konuaris. Each had decided to take the scholarship test despite knowing the risks involved.
A middle-aged man approached them. He appeared to be in his forties, with a kind face and a pleasant smile that seemed more practiced than genuine. His robes resembled those worn by the judges, though they were noticeably newer.
"Mr. and Mrs. Konuari," he said, bowing politely. "My name is Zeak. I am the vice principal of the academy."
Yuuta immediately stood, straightening his borrowed suit as Erza had taught him.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," he said. "I am Yuuta Konuari. This is my wife, Erza. And this is our daughter, Elena."
Zeak smiled and briefly examined the unusual family before him. Yuuta wore a modest borrowed suit, while the silver-haired woman beside him carried herself with the unmistakable dignity of royalty. Their daughter watched him curiously, her small wings shifting behind her back.
"You have done well to reach this point," he said. "The scholarship test is the last hurdle. If you pass, your daughter's education will be fully funded. If you fail" He spread his hands. "You know what happens."
Yuuta nodded.
He was already aware of the consequences, and hearing them repeated did little to ease his anxiety.
Zeak gestured toward the nearby tables, where officials were collecting items from the other families.
A woman handed over an old golden ring, while another family presented a worn locket. Someone offered a brooch that had belonged to their grandmother, its gemstones still sparkling beneath the hall's lights.
"Each family must offer something precious," Zeak explained. "Something that holds the memory of your bond. A ring, a photograph, a letter, anything that carries the weight of your family's story. It is part of the test. A way of proving that what you have built together is real."
Yuuta froze.
He watched the other families surrender their possessions, each object carrying memories accumulated over years, sometimes generations.
They had photographs, heirlooms, and keepsakes.
Things that proved how long they had belonged together.
But what did he have?
He had known Erza for barely two weeks.
Two weeks of learning how to live beside her, cooking meals, looking after Elena, and struggling to understand what it meant to become a family.
He had memories of those days, certainly, but nothing he could place in an official's hands.
No wedding ring.
No family photograph.
Not even a simple keepsake that belonged to all three of them.
His hands were empty.
Yuuta glanced toward the other families, who had already finished submitting their offerings. One by one, they began following the officials toward the next room.
Soon, only the Konuaris remained.
He considered what little he owned.
His apartment was rented, and the suit he wore had been borrowed. The only valuable possession he could call his own was his car, but even that couldn't represent the bond Zeak had described.
He lowered his gaze.
For all his efforts to become a proper father, he had arrived at the final test without a single meaningful object to offer.
He was about to apologize when Erza stepped forward.
"Here," she said. "Take this."
Yuuta turned toward her in surprise.
Erza held out her hand, her fingers curled around something small that she had quietly removed from her sleeve.
Zeak extended his palm, and she placed the object into it.
When he opened his hand, Yuuta saw a ring.
It was an elegant silver ornament, its delicate band decorated with the figure of a dragon coiled into an endless circle. Tiny sapphire gemstones formed its eyes, while the intricate design reflected the light above them.
Yuuta recognized it immediately.
He had seen Erza wearing that ring countless times since she arrived in his apartment. Sometimes she touched it absentmindedly while thinking, and on other occasions, it caught the light whenever she moved her hand.
He had never asked where it came from.
But he knew it was important.
It was one of the few possessions she had brought from her own world, something that had remained with her long before they ever met.
And now she was giving it away.
Yuuta wanted to stop her.
He wanted to tell Zeak that they would find something else, that he could offer his car or whatever possessions he owned.
But he knew none of those things fulfilled the test's requirements.
He had nothing that could replace what Erza was offering.
Zeak examined the ring briefly before nodding in approval.
"This will work," he said.
He carefully placed it inside a small velvet pouch and carried it toward the Headmaster.
Yuuta watched him leave, then slowly turned toward Erza.
"Why did you do that?" he asked.
Erza met his gaze with her usual cold expression, though there was a faint tension in her eyes.
"Do not look at me like that," she said. "It disgusts me."
She turned away, folding her hands neatly before her.
"The ring was old," she said. "I have had it for centuries. It was time to let it go and also it's not like they will keep it." She paused. "And I cannot let my daughter, the princess of the Altanais Kingdom, be looked down upon by humans who do not know what she is."
Yuuta remained silent.
He wanted to believe her explanation. Perhaps the ring truly meant little to someone who had lived for centuries.
But he couldn't forget how naturally she had worn it or how carefully she had kept it close.
And although she had surrendered it without hesitation, he couldn't shake the feeling that she had given up something far more precious than she was willing to admit.
A quiet shame settled over him.
He was twenty-one years old, an orphan who had spent most of his life struggling to make ends meet. He had no inheritance, no wealthy relatives, and no possessions that could compare to the treasures of a Dragon Queen.
Yet he had become so determined to provide Elena with an extraordinary future that he had allowed Erza to make a sacrifice he couldn't match.
He glanced at her hand.
The finger where the ring had rested was now bare.
For some reason, that small absence troubled him more than he expected.
Yuuta lowered his head.
He had wanted to prove that he could give Elena everything she deserved.
Instead, Erza had been the one forced to surrender something precious.
And he had been powerless to stop it.
The Headmaster eventually gathered the eight remaining families and led them onto a spacious balcony overlooking the valley.
The view was breathtaking.
Far below, a dense forest stretched across the mountainside, its treetops illuminated by the last rays of sunlight. A winding river reflected the evening sky, while distant peaks rose against clouds turning gold and purple.
Elena immediately hurried toward the railing, her little wings spreading with excitement.
"Papa! Papa, look! It is so high! Elena can see everything!"
Yuuta smiled at her enthusiasm, though he remained close enough to catch her if she leaned too far forward.
Erza approached more slowly.
She had seen countless mountains, forests, and rivers throughout her long life, but the landscape before her was different from the frozen beauty of her homeland.
The mountains were covered in green vegetation, and the forest below seemed alive with movement. Even the evening light felt warmer than the pale skies she remembered from her kingdom.
For a moment, she simply admired the scenery.
Then the Headmaster raised his hand.
A thunderous explosion echoed through the valley.
Brilliant fireworks shot into the evening sky, bursting into enormous patterns of red, blue, green, and gold.
The families gasped as thousands of glowing sparks scattered across the darkness. Some fireworks formed blooming flowers, while others briefly resembled dragons spreading their wings before dissolving into countless points of light.
Elena stared upward in amazement.
Her mouth hung open, her little wings stopped fluttering, and her tail curled around Yuuta's leg as she watched the dazzling display.
She had witnessed magical wonders in her own world, but nothing quite like this.
These lights served no purpose beyond creating beauty.
And perhaps that was what made them so fascinating.
Beside her, Erza watched in silence.
During her two weeks on Earth, she had encountered countless human inventions. Cars, buildings, machines, and other devices had rarely impressed her.
Compared to the wonders of magic, she had considered most of them primitive.
But as another wave of fireworks illuminated the sky, she found herself reconsidering that judgment.
The colors reflected in her violet eyes.
For a brief moment, she forgot about the scholarship, the test, and even the ring she had surrendered.
She was simply a woman standing beneath a beautiful night sky.
Then something warm slipped into her hand.
Erza glanced down.
Elena had quietly reached for her fingers.
Her daughter continued watching the fireworks, completely unaware of the emotions passing through her mother's heart.
Erza looked at their joined hands.
She had held Elena's hand countless times, from the days when her daughter was learning to walk to the moments when she first began discovering her wings.
For years, it had been just the two of them.
And even now, in an unfamiliar world surrounded by strangers, that small hand remained reassuringly familiar.
Erza gently tightened her grip.
Together, they watched the fireworks until the final sparks disappeared.
As the sky darkened, the families began turning away from the railing.
The children continued talking excitedly about the display, while several parents exchanged smiles and gathered their belongings.
Yuuta glanced toward Erza and Elena.
For a little while, he had allowed himself to forget the pressure of the scholarship test. Watching his daughter laugh beneath the fireworks had reminded him why he had worked so hard to reach this place.
But the celebration was ending.
And the results were still uncertain.
The Headmaster stood near the entrance, preparing to lead everyone back inside.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Zeak appeared through the doorway, breathing heavily. His face was flushed, and he hurried directly toward the Headmaster.
Yuuta frowned.
Something was wrong.
Zeak leaned close and whispered urgently into the old man's ear.
The conversation was too quiet for the surrounding families to hear.
But Erza heard every word.
Her dragon senses were far sharper than those of ordinary humans, allowing her to distinguish even the faintest sounds.
As Zeak continued speaking, the Headmaster's expression changed.
The calm authority he had maintained throughout the evening disappeared, replaced by unmistakable shock.
Then he raised his hand.
*Slap!*
The sharp sound echoed across the balcony as his palm struck Zeak's cheek.
"What have you done?" His voice was a thunderstorm, low and dangerous and terrible. "How could you be such a fool?"
The surrounding families fell silent.
Several turned toward the two men, startled by the Headmaster's sudden outburst.
Zeak stood frozen, one hand pressed against his reddened cheek.
Yuuta felt his stomach tighten.
He had seen that expression before.
Something terrible had happened.
Before he could ask what was wrong, Erza moved.
She crossed the balcony in an instant, seized Zeak by the collar, and lifted him from the ground.
The vice principal gasped as she held him against the stone railing, his feet dangling helplessly above the floor.
Yuuta stared at her.
He had seen Erza angry before, but the expression on her face now was different.
Her fingers trembled around Zeak's collar, and her violet eyes were filled with an emotion he couldn't immediately recognize.
"You disgusting human." Her voice trembled. "How dare you. How dare you lose my ring."
The balcony fell silent.
The families stared in disbelief, while the Headmaster remained motionless beside them.
Zeak struggled weakly in Erza's grip, his face growing pale as he tried to breathe.
But she refused to release him.
"WHERE IS IT?" she screamed. "WHERE IS MY RING?"
To Be Continued...