Chapter 6
The moment the doors slammed shut, the hall went completely off-script.
“Kiba—light every fireplace! Full blast!”
“Azu, get the bath going. Hot!”
“Tien, grab some winter cloaks! Doesn’t matter if they don’t fit!”
Orders flew one after another.
The Empress, Yuki, strode to the bed and yanked the covers free with brute force. The next instant, she had them wrapped tightly around Andri.
“Your Majesty—!? What are you—”
“You’re fine. I’ve got you. We’ll warm you up right away—you’re going hypothermic.”
Warm air began to gather through the hall.
“We’re cold-blooded, you know. We can’t regulate our body temperature ourselves, so don’t ever slack on staying warm.”
Still bundled in the bedding, Yuki guided Andri down in front of the fire, then draped the cloak Tien handed her over him. There was something tucked inside—heat packs, maybe—and a slow, steady warmth began to seep through.
“This country’s too cold—for you and for us. You’re past the northern limit where dragons can live safely.”
She bent slightly, peering into his face.
“If you stay out in this cold any longer, you’re seriously going to die.”
That part—she meant it. Completely.
A dragon named Azu called out that the bath was ready.
Yuki, whose massive frame dwarfed even Andri’s large build, hoisted him up with ease. Before he could so much as struggle, he was carried off without resistance, taken behind a screen into a partitioned corner.
A bath chamber had been built within the hall, designed for the dragons, with a large custom-built tub set behind a partition. Steam rose and hung there, keeping that corner warm while the rest of the hall lay in chill.
“Your scales don’t look great. That’s from the hypothermia, I think. And… your Dormancy’s probably close. You’ve been feeling really sleepy, haven’t you?”
As he listened to her, Andri gave a silent nod.
Drowsiness? It had always been there.
So constant, so ordinary, that he had long since stopped noticing it.
“And your tail… that must’ve been rough. Can I take a look?”
“Your Majesty! That is—”
At the implication, Andri panicked, flustered at once.
But just in time, Kiba—the male dragon—cut in.
“You ought to be more mindful. He was raised among humans. Show some regard for his dignity. The way you put it, he’d think you were some kind of pervert.”
“A pervert!?”
“To those without scales or fur, clothing holds meaning beyond mere protection or warmth—I told you as much. That is why we ourselves wear formal attire while we remain in this land.”
He spoke with finality.
“You shouldn’t ask him to undress so thoughtlessly. ”
“Oops—right. Sorry!”
Yuki relented, and Andri’s rigid frame eased slightly.
Seeing this, Kiba placed a large hand on Andri’s head, gently ruffling his hair.
“Go on—warm yourself properly. I won’t let this pervert peek.”
“I said I get it already.”
A dragon’s touch held no physical warmth.
And yet, somehow, the smiles of Kiba and Yuki felt warm all the same.
Still hesitant, Andri undressed behind the screen and, with caution, lowered himself into the bath—simple in make, yet large enough to accommodate the build of the dragons.
Water warmer than anything he had ever known enveloped his rigid body. He felt the tension melt from deep within his chest, and a soft breath escaped him unbidden.
To soak in a bath like this was a luxury afforded only to nobles or royalty. At the unfamiliar sensation, a faint heat pricked behind his eyes.
Among the Royal Guard, save for the depths of winter, bathing meant cold water.
Even the communal steam baths permitted in the harshest season were hurried affairs, shared among many soldiers in fleeting turns.
Moreover, Andri had always been reluctant to let others see the scales upon his body. He would wait until the very end of the bathing hours, when the fires had died and the water had gone tepid, and simply wipe himself down with a damp cloth. He had long convinced himself that it was enough.
At last, with a trace of reluctance, he rose from the bath. From beyond the screen, a set of soft garments was offered to him.
A a light robe and wide pleated trousers, made generously from fine cloth—
clearly hastily altered to fit his frame. The cloak from earlier had been laid beside them as well.
Drawing them on with gratitude, he felt the lingering warmth of the bath held close against his body.
Having made himself presentable, Andri knelt before Yuki.
“You have my sincerest thanks for the bath, Your Majesty—and for these garments as well.”
“Huh? You’re already out?” Yuki blinked in surprise.
“You could’ve taken your time. You need to warm up properly.”
“It was more than sufficient. I am deeply grateful for your kindness.”
Yuki smiled and gestured to a chair.
To sit in the presence of one so exalted felt almost unthinkable, yet urged on, Andri lowered himself into the seat with careful hesitation.
Tien stepped forward in silence, offering him a cup of steaming tea.
The warmth of the bath, the clothes, the tea—
and the gentle ease carried in the dragons’ smiles.
Though unfamiliar and faintly disorienting, Andri accepted it as best he could.
“Sorry for deciding things without asking you first,” Yuki said, her voice softening with a hint of concern.
“But you should come to our country. If you keep living somewhere this cold, it’s only a matter of time before it kills you. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”
A faint chill settled in Andri’s chest. For an instant, the thought flickered—
that he was being cast out of his homeland at last.
But he dismissed it at once.
The will of the king was absolute. If such had been decreed, then as his subject, there was only one answer.
And above all, his loyalty to his elder brother—Crown Prince Antonius, and Lord Commander of the Royal Guard—had never once wavered.
If it meant serving the one who would one day ascend the throne, then he had long resolved to go wherever he was commanded.
“We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning, so get ready. It’s about five days by Raptors.”
“At once, Your Majesty. I shall attend you.”
Straightening his posture, Andri gave his reply without hesitation.
Then, as if something had just occurred to her, Yuki clapped her hands lightly.
“Oh—right. I never introduced myself. I’m Yuki.”
“Y-yes… I am called Andri Chaire. I am most deeply honored by the extraordinary grace you have—”
“Hang on,” Yuki cut in, raising a hand.
“We don’t do that stiff formal stuff in our country.”
It was a line one would never have expected from the same elegant Dragon Empress who had reduced a king to trembling moments before.
“Sorry about her,” said Tien with a gentle smile—the female dragon who had prepared his cloak.
“She’s got a bit of a broken sense of distance.”
“Our country’s nothing like this place,” she went on. “It’ll probably feel strange at first, but you’ll get used to it. Take your time.”
As she spoke, she offered him a small confection—something, she explained, from Tatsuno.
Yuki, unable to wait, broke into a bright grin and popped one straight into her mouth.
Following her lead, Andri tried it as well.
It was unlike any sweet he had ever known—soft, yielding, with a gentle sweetness that drifted from tongue to nose.
A young male dragon—Azu, the one who had prepared the bath—grinned mischievously.
“See? Told you it was worth bringing. It’s Yuki’s favorite.”
“Yeah, whenever she gets moody, this usually fixes it,” Tien added with a laugh.
Yuki shot them both a sharp glare.
“Hey. I’m not that easy.”
As their banter carried on beside him, Yuki took a sip of her tea—then glanced at Ando, her expression lighting with sudden inspiration.
“You’ll be staying with us for a while, so… mind if we give you a Tatsuno-style name?”
“Y-yes, Your—… as you wish. I shall answer to whatever name you deem fit.”
“Great, it’s decided.”
She continued at once, clearly pleased.
“From today on, you’re Ando, okay?”
She repeated it, as if testing the sound.
“Ando. May the road ahead be kind to you.”
Andri—now Ando—straightened and bowed his head.
“I humbly accept this name, and I swear to strive unceasingly, that I may prove worthy of it.”
“That’s exactly the kind of stiff stuff I just banned.”
The dragons burst into laughter all at once.
Summoning his courage, Ando spoke again.
“Um… Your Majesty—”
“I told you, just Yuki.”
“M-my Lady Yuki…”
“Oh? Hey, I like that.”
“If I may be permitted a question…”
“Of course. Ask anything. I’m three hundred twenty-five, and my hobby’s making sweets.”
“N-no, I—”
Caught off balance by how utterly unguarded the dragons were—beings who should have stood far beyond reach—Ando struggled to find his footing.
Still, he steadied his breath and pressed on.
“…What is this ‘Dormancy’ you spoke of?”
The drowsiness had always been there. He had long since grown used to it.
Yet in recent months, it had worsened—on the coldest days, even sitting still, he had felt his consciousness begin to slip.
With a body bearing reptilian traits, he had wondered—perhaps it required some form of hibernation.
But Yuki shook her head.
“It’s true your strength’s been getting drained in a place this cold. But Dormancy for dragons isn’t anything like reptile hibernation. It’s something young dragons go through on their way to adulthood.”
During that time, their power was temporarily sealed—and they could no longer fly.
And a dragon that cannot fly cannot fight.
“It varies a lot,” she went on. “Some come out of it in a few years. Others can take a century.”
“When it ends, their bodies grow, they regain flight, and their strength jumps to a whole different level.”
From the side, Kiba added:
“It is much like a caterpillar becoming a chrysalis before it turns into a butterfly. Their vital functions are greatly reduced. Yuki’s lasted around ten years—there were times she slept for dozens of days at a stretch. Even when awake, she was often… distant.”
“That’s how defenseless it gets,” Yuki said. “So when someone enters Dormancy, the rest of us protect them. All of us.”
Her gaze moved over Ando, from head to toe.
“I believe your Dormancy is beginning to set in.”
A slight crease touched her brow.
“In a place this cold, with no one who understands dragons… that could’ve gone bad fast. I’m glad we found you before it did.”
With that, Yuki rose to her feet.
“Starting tomorrow, it’s going to be a pretty fast-paced flight, so get some rest.”
Yuki gave Ando a concerned look.
”Your Dormancy’s coming up, and you’ve been stuck in a place this cold—you haven’t been sleeping properly, have you?”
“I am grateful for your concern, my lady. With your leave, I shall return at first light.”
Taking it as his cue to withdraw, Ando offered his thanks for the hospitality and moved to take his leave.
“Ah, no, no. Not that. Come here.”
Puzzled, he followed as instructed. Beyond a partition set apart from the baths, he found a row of enormous beds—one prepared for each of the dragons.
Among them, one stood apart, set upon a raised inner dais. Yuki pointed to it—the finest of the lot, enclosed in a makeshift canopy and heavy drapes.
“You’re sleeping here tonight.”
Ando stared at her, completely thrown.
Yuki blinked, realizing it hadn’t landed.
“Oh—don’t worry about the number of beds. I’ll share with Tien.”
“You’re a terrible sleeper, you know. Kick me, and I’ll kick you right back out of bed.” Tien folded her arms, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
“That is not the issue!” Ando burst out. “I have quarters of my own—I shall return to the barracks and rest there!”
He made to flee in near panic, only to have his shoulder seized in a grip like iron.
“Nope.”
Once again, Ando found himself forced to bear the crushing pressure of an absolute being who ruled the space by sheer presence alone.
“I told you, didn’t I? This country’s too cold, even in summer. Even with all these fires, it’s still not enough.”
Yuki placed her other hand on his shoulder, holding him squarely in place. Then she bent down, lowering her tall frame until those lightning-bright eyes met his at level.
“You don’t have to put up with the cold anymore.”
He had lived in this climate since birth and had never once thought it harsh. And yet, only now—through her words—did he realize he had been clenching his teeth against it all along.
And still—
To enter the bed of a royal guest—more so, a lady of such rank—was a choice Ando, raised in the strict code of chivalry, could never make.
Desperate, he cast a pleading glance toward Kiba, who had aided him before. But the dragon only smiled gently this time, offering no rescue.
Even so, Ando resisted with all he had—but Yuki only leaned closer.
“I’m probably going to get called a pervert again for this…”
Her bright smile, for some reason, looked to him like that of a predator that had just cornered its prey.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Ando felt something like fear.
“Keep being stubborn, and I’ll just carry you and tuck you in myself.”
Faced with such a dreadful ultimatum, there was no path left but surrender.
Resigned to his fate, he lay down on the bed.
Yuki herself layered him with blankets and a heavy, fur-lined cloak. Tien slipped a warming stone beneath the covers.
Then, just as Kiba had before, Yuki gently stroked his head.
The dragons’ hands bore no warmth—but their smiles and their words carried a gentleness that reached him all the same.
He thought he could never fall asleep.
And yet, his body slackened, drawn under by a creeping drowsiness.
“It was cold, wasn’t it?”
“…I am well… truly.”
“You’ve done well, all this time. On your own.”
Ando swallowed hard, fighting the sudden swell of emotion.
No one had ever spoken such words to him.
“From here on, we’ve got you. Alright?”
“…I am… most grateful…my lady.”
He dared not let himself slip—he might break.
“Lady Yuki… might I ask you one more question?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Am I… the Dragon of Doom?”
For a moment, Yuki had no answer. The attendants fell silent as well.
The name belonged to the legend—the one said to have sought to set the world ablaze. In the grip of that destructive frenzy, Ando had heard it clearly: Yuki had called him that.
Yuki exhaled softly, choosing her words.
“You’re… close kin to us,” she said. “We’re Dracoserpens. You’re Dracotyrannus. Since you were born to a human mother… demi-Dracotyrannus would be the precise term, I guess.”
The creature of the old tales—what people whispered about—was, strictly speaking, a Dracotyrannus.
Then what did that make him?
Yuki stopped there.
—Not yet.
She couldn’t tell him. Not now.
The path that lay ahead for this child—Ando, the name she had given him—would be far harsher than he deserved. Just for now, she wanted him to forget all of that. To rest. To have a moment of peace before everything changed.
“I’ll explain it properly… another time,” she said, gentler now. “For now, just close your eyes.”
He wanted to ask more. Truly, he did.
But the pull of sleep had already grown too strong.
Meaning only to rest for a moment, he did as he was told and slowly let his eyes fall shut.
And just before his awareness slipped away, Ando thought he saw it—a faint shadow of sorrow in Yuki’s eyes.
