READING GUIDANCE
" This is a direct sentence in the present time."
" This is a direct sentence in the past time."
' This is a character's inner thought in the present time.'
' This is a character's inner thought in the past time.'
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the present time.]
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the past time.]
HAPPY READING!
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" Greeting to the blessing of the Dragon, The Crown Prince, Castra Isaac Malum."
The sound of the greeting barely stirred him; he was already bored with it while watching people bow, pale, tremble, and struggle to compose themselves in his presence. Men or women, tall or small, in the end, all worshiped him, for he was the one with holy dragon's blood coursing through his veins. No one dared to meet his eyes.
Even in moments when someone begged or seethed with hatred, their gaze toward him was inevitably filled with fear, surrendering to unspoken anger. Deep inside, they would scream, cursing:
" You monster!"
Meanwhile, their bodies were cut, and thick, red blood flooded the ground. The sight of shattering flesh and the pungent, metallic smell never once disturbed him. Somehow, it was enjoyable—like prey being bitten by its predator. The satisfaction always calmed him.
It was ecstasy.
It was like a drug.
The high was euphoric, intoxicating, and dangerously addictive—enough to make him lose control. It was so twisted it disgusted him even further.
" The Dragon blesses the humans who worship him," they would say. They also spoke of how special one with dragon's blood was, and yet, while they looked at him with admiration, envy, or desire, they would scatter the moment he displayed his power.
" The Dragon is wicked, but humans are worse," he could say bluntly. Yes, he was human too, but those surrounding him were all sneaky fools.
And he hated the fact that he had to take someone's blood to feel the comfort of being fully aware of himself. He hated it so much that he needed it to control his emotions.
If being known as the wicked Crown Prince now fit anyone, it was him. That title described his life perfectly—it had been that way from the start.
" It's just the damn holy dragon; sure, it has too much free time, huh?" he smirked, sipping his red wine. " Or... humans are greedy, trashy creatures."
Ray, who had served him his entire life, merely closed his eyes and stood silently a short distance away.
The Crown Prince's smile faded as he too closed his eyes, thinking,
" Is there anything interesting in this miserable world?"
Something that could distract him from this wicked existence. Something that could pull him away from the disgusting comfort of thick, warm blood flowing through his veins from the transfusion hose.
Yet,
then...
[ It is so beautiful, Your Grace. ] she said—the woman who could neither make a sound nor hear one. Her dark brown eyes, almost black without the orange sunlight, sparkled in awe.
' I always like to see her freckles,' he thought. In fact, he liked everything about her face: her thin lips, the way she tried to hold her curly hair with one hand, her long eyelashes. Her eyes shone as she admired the sunset, and her smile widened as the cold breeze brushed her cheeks.
" Your cheeks are red," he said, touching her gently. "Are you cold?"
She frowned, looking at him straight in the eyes. [ What did you say, Your Grace? ] she signed, and he just smiled, remembering the countless times she had looked at him so directly.
Even with her trembling hands, her pale expression from fear, she always met his gaze. Her tiny body, mute and deaf, stood brazenly before him. She spoke—not with her voice, but through her unique gestures that somehow commanded attention.
She was just a woman.
She was just a commoner.
Moreover, she was disabled.
Society labeled someone like her as useless. Many buried themselves under the weight of stereotypes, embracing misfortune. Yet... how could this tiny woman be so different?
' I thought you were reckless and naive,' he admitted to himself. Yet now, his eyes were entirely on hers.
[ ...It is so high— ] she gasped, her breathing growing heavier. He had expected this reaction, but she had been so absorbed in the scenery that she hadn't noticed her own body.
[ Are we going now? ] Her disappointed yet lovely expression made him smile as he held her waist close, pulling the rope to guide the dragon down.
He lifted her once more and set her safely on the ground. She held his hands tightly to maintain balance, yet her smile returned. [ It feels like I'm still flying; the ground feels so strange, ] she said. He decided not to rush her with sign language, observing as her hands gradually relaxed their grip.
" Sister!"
Her little one ran up and hugged her, curious eyes mirroring her sister's. She looked confused, then scooped her sister up. [ You are not allowed near the dragon, ] she signed, before running toward Tara, who had arrived.
He laughed, surprising both the knights and Tara. "... You don't even realize your own strength," he said. "...Bring her some medicine, something hot and warm too..." he instructed a knight, then slowly followed the woman as she animatedly recounted her experience to her mini-me, who kept glancing at him with a grumpy, curious gaze.
"...If you were a little bigger, I'd let you," he teased.
Just like her sister, she smiled, chubby cheeks bright, jumping excitedly. " Promise, Your Grace?" she asked, extending her pinkie.
" I promise," he said, locking his pinkie with hers.
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***
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The meeting hall was silent. Even though many people filled the round table, their breathing was quiet and measured. Both monarchs stared at the documents in their hands with agonizing intensity.
The man kneeling before them trembled and paled, as if he had already died. Those in the hall thought the same.
"So you are saying that the confidential agreement with Nara was leaked, and now Jahar has taken control of it?" asked the emperor, his deep voice sharp enough to terrorize the man bowing before him. He did not even look at him directly. "So... what do you want to say? Our military is already en route, yet... they seem determined to wage this war independently, huh?" His tone dripped with sarcasm.
"I-I w-was su-sure that the confidential agreement passed the elite troop," the man stammered, gulping.
The Crown Prince smirked. "Yes, of course it seemed that way to you." He sighed. "What's the update?"
A man stood. "General Derik's troops have cornered them and are requesting permission to attack."
"...Then another troublesome party will just join Jahar. Is that what you mean?"
The man who had spoken sat down silently, deciding it was better to remain quiet.
"Send backup to the troops. Tell Derik to do whatever is necessary—"
"Please wait a minute, Your Grace," Tara interrupted, panicked, glancing anxiously at Irisha, who was studying the papers in her hands. "Ms. Irisha, what do you want to say—Ah, she says that if you act now, it will break our agreement with Nara."
The Crown Prince looked at her. "Yes, I understand. So you are saying we're just going to let them... die?" he asked.
"There must be some solution to this—"
"We are not in a situation where a solution can appear instantly," He said firmly.
"And we are also not in a position to jeopardize the trading growth we've worked so hard to build," Tara added, relaying Irisha's message.
He frowned at Irisha. "Do you understand that this is a critical situation for the troops we've invested in?"
Irisha met his gaze daringly. [Your Grace, you also understand how fragile our financial state is right now, yes?] she signed. Tara was the one speaking, but Irisha's intense expression amplified the tension in the room. Some officials quietly admired her courage, while others thought she was reckless for challenging the Crown Prince. Tara, standing between them, silently prayed for the meeting to end quickly.
[ I am not saying we should sacrifice General Derik's troops; that was never my intention. But Nara's cooperation in other trading matters is crucial. Acting recklessly now would be disastrous. ]
The Crown Prince twitched. "...You're saying this without knowing the military strategy—"
[ Then discuss it! She shot back, glaring. [ Will Sir Higrid even speak on this? She asked, turning to the other official. He glanced at the Crown Prince, while the emperor observed both silently, his hands resting on his head.
"...I agree it's a risky move, Your Grace," said the official.
"We should break down the situation first—" the Minister of Defense added. "If you don't mind, I'd like to explain my perspective."
The Crown Prince turned to him, then glanced at Irisha. Rising from his seat, he walked down to the round table.
"You also need to explain it, sir," Tara said, interpreting Irisha's words to the kneeling man, who looked confused while the Crown Prince and officials discussed matters. "Please explain the situation to Ms. Irisha first."
"Y-Yes! I will!" he stammered, running toward her. "You'll interpret it correctly, right?"
Tara nodded. "Just make it brief," she instructed. He complied, speaking to Irisha, who then joined the hectic discussion surrounded by men larger than her.
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"...Is she the one Sir Higrid hired?" the emperor asked, calmly observing the unfolding scene.
The knight beside him nodded. "To be exact, she was hired by the Crown Prince himself and placed under Sir Higrid in the new branch."
"She maintains the trading operations now?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"...What is her name?"
"She is Ms. Irisha Spes, Your Majesty," he said, while the emperor continued staring at her. She was the only woman speaking confidently in the room, and the attention she commanded surprised many. Reports had mentioned that Higrid hired a disabled assistant in his branch, but the emperor had never known she was both mute and deaf. Recently, Higrid had presented several financial strategies that had significantly improved the empire's situation, and it was clear that she was the driving force behind these successes.
' Is he always like that? wondered the emperor's first son, a man usually capable of handling things on his own. Yet now, he was taking the time to listen to people he had previously ignored.
"Don't be stubborn, Your Grace!" Tara exclaimed, her tone not matching Irisha's calm expression. She was terrified, realizing that it was her words being spoken aloud. "Sir Gerald already pointed out the situation, and Sir Higrid has described the worst-case scenario. This is not the time to just—"
"I will explain to you why," the Crown Prince interjected firmly.
Both he and Irisha were stubborn in their opinions, forcing others to act as arbiters. Yet at the same time, everyone could see that they were genuinely listening, striving to understand each perspective. In the end, they reached an agreement without holding grudges, accepting the solution as the best option.
"Send the message to Derik. Gerald, you understand what you need to do, right?"
"I will proceed immediately, Your Grace," he replied. "Please excuse me."
"You should handle your own tasks as well, Higrid and Irisha," the Crown Prince added. "Since both of you are responsible for bringing up this complicated situation."
"As you wish, Your Grace," Higrid said.
The Crown Prince sighed. "Let's just end the meeting. I am so damn tired of talking about trading," he said, looking at Irisha. "You're just too stubborn. Do you know that?" he asked, signing the words.
[I am not. It is for our country, after all.] she replied. [You may excel at military matters, but I am quite an expert in business.]
He smirked. "You are still a brat."
[And you're so childish to insist on age in this matter, Your Grace.] She looked away at the man who had been kneeling, now speaking about his duties. [Let's discuss this with Sir Higrid. How about that, Sir?]
"Yes, yes. Let's talk in my office, and we will excuse ourselves, Your Grace," said Higrid, leading Irisha, Tara, and the man, who cried in gratitude as he realized the situation had spared him from disaster.
"Castra," the emperor finally spoke after remaining silent throughout the meeting, crossing his legs as he looked at his son.
"You're still here?"
The Emperor ignored him. "Tell me—when was the last time your aura was uncontrollable?"
"Why are you asking that?" the Crown Prince frowned.
"Just answer."
"I don't remember," he said indifferently. "I'm tired. I will excuse myself, Father."
The emperor leaned back, sitting quietly for a moment. "...So it's her," he muttered, a small, knowing smile crossing his lips.
***