Three weeks passed.
Three.
Whole.
Weeks.
And the mighty, fearsome dragon growth she had secretly hoped for?
One and a half meters.
That was it.
From nose to tail tip, Mia now measured roughly 1.5 meters long. Bigger than before, yes. Her wings had stretched slightly. Her horns had curved a little more. Her scales gleamed darker under sunlight.
But she was still small.
Still leash-sized.
Still very much carryable.
She had imagined explosive growth. Towering over the estate. Snapping chains like thread.
Instead?
Leo could still scoop her up with some effort.
And Leo had decided that if she was staying small…
She was getting trained.
"Sit!"
Mia glared at him.
The chain tugged downward slightly.
"…Mii."
She slowly lowered her body.
Leo beamed. "Good girl!"
(I am cooperating strategically.)
"Stay."
She stayed.
"Paw."
She hesitated.
Leo waited expectantly.
With visible disgust, she lifted one claw.
Leo gently shook it.
"See? You're so smart!"
Fetch was the worst.
Leo would throw a small wooden stick across the yard.
"Go get it, Mia!"
At first, she refused.
Then he would tug the leash.
Or wait.
Or bribe her with meat.
Eventually, instinct—annoyingly cooperative instinct—kicked in. She chased. Grabbed the stick. Returned.
The first time she did it, Leo looked like he had won a championship.
By the end of the third week, she knew:
Sit.
Stay.
Paw.
Come.
Fetch.
And she hated that she understood every word.
When Leo left for school each morning, the routine was simple.
Chain.
Pole.
Shade.
Sometimes the front yard. Sometimes the backyard near the trees.
Servants passed by occasionally.
Some still tried to pet her.
Some just smiled cautiously.
The days were long.
She would lie there, tail flicking lazily, watching clouds drift across the sky.
When Leo returned, he always ran to her first.
"Mia! I'm back!"
And then came the daily report.
"Today in sword class, I almost beat Xavier."
"Teacher said I need better footwork."
"We learned about the northern kingdoms."
He would sit beside her, back against the pole she was tied to, talking endlessly.
Mia listened despite herself.
About lessons.
About classmates.
About petty school rivalries.
Sometimes, she found herself oddly focused.
She used to skip school lectures.
Used to scroll mindlessly through her phone.
Used to ignore videos titled things like:
"Top 10 Dragon Types in Fantasy Worlds"
"Ancient Dragon Lore Explained"
"Are Black Dragons Evil?"
Now?
Now she was a dragon.
And she knew absolutely nothing about dragons.
No idea about lifespan.
No idea about magic.
No idea about instincts.
No idea if she was supposed to breathe fire yet.
She stared at her claws thoughtfully.
(I should've watched those dragon lore videos instead of random garbage…)
Leo leaned against her side, unaware of her existential crisis.
"You're the best, Mia."
She huffed quietly.
"Mii."
And for the first time in three weeks, the sound didn't carry quite as much anger as before.
It was a bright, cloudless afternoon.
Leo sat on a wooden bench in the garden, legs swinging slightly above the grass. Mia had been placed—no, positioned—squarely on his lap.
One hand scratched gently behind her horn.
The other stroked down her back in slow, repetitive motions.
She endured it.
Barely.
Her body had grown enough that sitting on his lap felt cramped now, her tail curling awkwardly around his waist. But Leo insisted.
"You're warm," he said happily. "Better than a blanket."
Mia shifted uncomfortably.
The leather collar around her neck pressed tighter than before. It wasn't choking her—but it was snug. Too snug. Each breath reminded her it was there.
She wanted to tell them.
It's tight.
Loosen it.
But all that came out was—
"Mii…"
Leo misinterpreted instantly.
"Yeah? You like that spot?" Scratch scratch.
She grimaced internally.
(That's not what I meant…)
Footsteps approached along the stone path.
Count Vinson entered the garden, composed as always. In his hands, he carried a small wooden box.
"Is she behaving?" he asked calmly.
"Yep!" Leo grinned proudly. "You should try some commands. I trained her."
Vinson raised a brow slightly. "Oh?"
He stepped closer.
"Mia. Sit."
She was already sitting.
Leo giggled. "Dad, you gotta say it when she's standing."
Vinson gave her a measured look. "Stand."
She stood.
"Sit."
She sat.
"Paw."
With visible reluctance, she lifted a claw.
Vinson took it gently, inspecting her reaction.
"Stay."
He stepped back.
She stayed.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Well done, Leo."
Leo puffed his chest. "Told you!"
Vinson opened the wooden box.
Inside lay a red leather collar, polished and new. A small silver name tag hung from it. And attached—
A bell.
Small.
Shiny.
And absolutely humiliating.
"Here," Vinson said, handing it to Leo. "Her old collar is getting tight."
Mia's eyes widened.
(WTF!! NO—NOT THE FREAKING BELL!!!)
"MIIIIIIII!"
Leo gasped happily. "Aww! She's so excited!"
(THAT IS NOT EXCITEMENT.)
She tried to squirm away, wings fluttering in protest. But Leo held her firmly while Vinson unbuckled the old collar.
For a brief second, her neck was free.
Air touched bare scales.
Then—
Click.
The new red collar wrapped snugly around her neck.
The bell chimed softly.
Jingle.
She froze.
The sound echoed in her ears like a declaration of defeat.
Vinson stepped back. "Let's see."
He reached down and unclipped the chain from her collar.
The metal hook slid free.
Mia felt it instantly.
No tension.
No restraint.
Nothing tethering her.
Her head snapped toward the garden gate.
It stood open.
Beyond it—fields, trees, unknown lands.
She could run.
Right now.
Her wings twitched.
Her claws pressed into the bench.
Run.
But where?
Into the wild?
She didn't know how to hunt properly. The meat here came every day. Clean. Easy. Safe.
Out there?
She didn't know the predators. The politics. The magic. The rules of this world.
She didn't even know what kind of dragon she was.
Her gaze shifted to Leo.
The boy was watching her expectantly, hopeful.
Vinson observed quietly, calculating.
"She won't go far," one of the nearby maids murmured under her breath.
Mia hesitated.
Then, slowly—
She stepped down from Leo's lap.
The bell jingled softly as she moved.
Jingle.
She walked in a small circle.
No one stopped her.
The open garden lay right there.
Freedom was three seconds away.
Instead—
She turned back.
And walked to Leo.
Lowering her head, she nudged against his leg.
The bell chimed gently.
Jingle.
She let out a soft—
"Mii…"
Leo's face lit up like the sun.
"Oh wow!! Good girl, Mia!"
He knelt and wrapped his arms around her neck in a tight hug.
Vinson watched, satisfied.
"Good," he said quietly. "She's getting used to this place."
Mia closed her eyes briefly as Leo patted her head.
(I hate this…)
But she didn't move away.
From that day on, Mia followed Leo almost everywhere.
Not because she was ordered to.
Not because the leash forced her.
She just… did.
The bell at her collar chimed softly whenever she moved, announcing her presence with an irritating little jingle.
Sometimes she would leap—awkwardly but determined—onto Leo's shoulder while he stood in the garden.
For three whole seconds, she would balance there like a proud, winged mantle.
Then Leo would stagger.
"Whoa—okay, nope—you're heavy!"
He'd laugh and gently lift her down. "You're not baby-sized anymore, Mia!"
She'd flick her tail in annoyance.
(Then stop treating me like one.)
When Leo left for school, she no longer fought the quiet hours.
Most days, she wandered freely around the estate grounds.
She would curl near Count Vinson's study door, listening to the murmur of political conversations through thick wood.
Or settle in the kitchen corner while the maids worked.
Miss Korbi would sometimes glance down at her.
"You're calmer lately," the maid would say softly while kneading dough. "Still grumpy… but calmer."
Mia would blink slowly.
Another maid once tried scratching under her chin.
She almost hissed.
Almost.
Instead—
"Mii."
Only when visitors arrived did the chain return.
Some guests stiffened at the sight of scales.
"Is that… safe?"
"It's only a juvenile," Vinson would reply smoothly. "Quite obedient."
The leash would be clipped on then.
Mia endured it in silence.
Not out of submission.
Out of calculation.
When Leo returned from school each afternoon, he ran to her first.
"Mia! Guess what happened today!"
He would sit on the grass beside her and talk endlessly.
"Xavier tripped during sparring practice."
"Teacher said I might join advanced class next year."
"We're learning about trade routes now."
He'd look at her expectantly sometimes.
"What do you think?"
Mia stared at him.
There were entire thoughts in her head.
Opinions. Sarcasm. Commentary.
Instead—
"Mii."
Leo smiled every time like she'd delivered profound wisdom.
"Yeah, I thought so too."
She would huff softly.
Sometimes he'd lean against her side, warm and comfortable.
Sometimes he'd rest his head against her shoulder.
And she—
She didn't move away anymore.
The bell would chime faintly as she adjusted, curling her tail loosely around his back.
Still spicy.
Still internally screaming about collars, commands, and lost manhood.
But when Leo laughed and scratched between her horns—
She no longer hissed.