(Erza's POV)
The room was warm, wrapped in a stillness I hadn't felt in years. Sitting here with my little family—my mortal, my daughter, and even Sister Mary—felt almost unreal, like a fragile dream I dared not disturb.
And yet… a piece of me remained hollow.
Yuri.
My son.
If only he were here. If only he could sit at this table, tasting this warmth instead of wasting himself in endless trials to please dragons who would never see him, as own.
"Erza," Yuuta's voice pulled me back, steady but touched with concern. "You're not eating?"
I glanced at him, then at the table. "I'll try it," I said softly, pointing toward the food. "That… sandwich."
"Mama!" Elena chirped instantly, puffing out her cheeks. "It's not just a sandwich—it's a Babarito Sandwich!" She giggled as though correcting me were the greatest victory of her tiny life.
I exhaled, long and tired. "Fine. Little chef's so-called Babarito Sandwich."
I reached for it, ready to humor them. But before the bite touched my lips, a fragile sound fractured the stillness. A trembling sob. Quiet, but sharp enough to pierce the air.
I turned.
Sister Mary.
Her blindfold still covered her eyes, but tears slid freely down her cheeks. Her hands shook as she clutched the sandwich close to her chest, as if it were a treasure someone might steal away.
Yuuta jolted in panic, half-rising from his chair. "S-Sister Mary! Is it bad? Did I mess up the recipe? I—I'll get you some water—"
But she shook her head, fiercely, desperately. "No. No, Yuuta… It's delicious. Too delicious. It's…" Her voice cracked, breaking in places I had never heard before. "It reminds me of my childhood. Of… when I was just a girl."
Her composure crumbled, piece by piece. For the first time, I saw her not as the calm, unshakable Sister Mary, but as a woman touched by memory and grief.
Yuuta blinked, clearly at a loss, then tried to cover his own awkwardness with a crooked smile. "Sister Mary… this is the first time I've ever seen you cry."
I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut stone. "Don't ruin her moment, you idiot mortal."
"Shhh!" He pressed a finger to his lips like a child caught in mischief. "Erza, don't call me mortal in front of her!"
I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. "…Fine. Let's see what's so miraculous about this Babarito Sandwich."
I bit down.
And the world vanished.
I was no longer at the table. Instead, I stood in a forest of endless gold. Sunlight streamed through ancient trees, and elven melodies drifted in the wind like forgotten lullabies. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of wildflowers, brushing against my skin like silk. Rivers shimmered with light, flowing in graceful arcs as though the very water bowed to the land.
The earth itself welcomed me—the grass bending, swaying, cradling each step I took as though it had been waiting for me all along.
The taste pulled me deeper, drawing me into a world I hadn't realized I longed for. It was more than flavor—it was memory, a dream, a piece of home I had never known yet could never forget.
When I blinked again, I was back. The room returned, warm lamplight filling the silence. But the plate before me… was empty.
I touched my lips, stunned. "What… what in the world was that?" My voice trembled. "I've tasted the leafy spirits before, but never… never something this delicious."
Yuuta's eyes sparkled with mischief. He leaned closer, his smile dripping with pride he made no attempt to hide. "Admit it, my wife."
"Admit what…?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes.
"That you liked my cooking this time."
I quickly crossed my arms, forcing composure back into my voice. "Hmph. It's… not that bad." But the excitement bubbling inside me betrayed me—I could feel the heat threatening to rise in my cheeks.
Yuuta tilted his head, studying me. His grin widened. "Oh? Is that so? Well, I still have an extra sandwich… but I suppose you don't like it enough to want more."
My eyes flicked to the plate before I could stop myself. "Who said I don't like it? I only said it wasn't that bad!" I snapped, though my voice wavered.
He leaned back, smug as ever. "Then be honest with me, my queen. Admit you loved my dish."
I clicked my tongue. "Fine. It was… good."
Yuuta immediately shook his head. "No, not like that."
My brow twitched. "Then how?"
He placed a hand dramatically over his chest, mimicking my tone in a mock-feminine voice. "Oh, my lovely husband, I am moved by your cooking. I love you so much—please marry me once again!"
My face flared crimson, heat rushing up my neck. Just imagining saying such words made my breath catch in my throat. "Wh–what the hell is wrong with you?!" My heart thudded, and I desperately composed myself, crossing my arms with a huff.
"Don't dream too much, Human. Anyone could make it if they knew the recipe. Idiot."
His grin stretched wider. "You evil Lizard Queen."
I snapped my head toward him, glaring with enough fire to burn. "Idiot Mortal."
The room fell quiet. For a heartbeat, only Elena's soft munching could be heard.
Then—gentle laughter broke the silence.
Yuuta and I both froze, turning to see Sister Mary covering her mouth, though her smile slipped through.
"I-I'm sorry," she said between chuckles. "Please excuse me. I just… love seeing such a lovely family moment."
Her words lingered in the air, warm and gentle, weaving themselves into something I couldn't name.
Me—a dragon queen, forged in war, surrounded by blood and loneliness—being called part of a lovely family but its worth it.
I quickly looked away, hiding the faint warmth rising in my cheeks afraid of being tease by Yuuta.
But, My gaze drifted back toward the table. My lovely little family sat together, happily eating the Babarito sandwiches and soup Yuuta had prepared. Elena's small cheeks puffed out as she chewed, her eyes shining with childish delight. Yuuta laughed as he teased me, his voice filling the room with a warmth I could never admit I needed. Even Sister Mary, with tears still clinging to her blindfold, savored each bite as though it were a prayer answered.
It was… peaceful.
To be honest, I had never known such a moment in my life. Watching Elena munch on her sandwich, Yuuta's ridiculous grin, Sister Mary's quiet joy—this simple gathering felt more real, more beautiful, than any words could capture.
In all my decades of ruling, even with an entire kingdom under my command, I had never felt true happiness. I dined in silence within vast marble halls, surrounded by gold and guarded by knights, yet utterly alone.
But now… here I was. Sitting in a small, ordinary apartment. Its walls could not compare to the grandeur of my castle. Its furniture was humble, its space far too cramped for someone of my station.
And yet… this place, with them, was worth more than that entire kingdom.
This—this was precious.
After the dinner ended in a rare hush. Yuuta carried Elena to bed, her tiny arms looped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his shoulder in the deep, careless trust of a child. Sister Mary lingered outside, standing at the edge of the balcony, her blindfold tilted toward the night sky. Grandpa sat cross-legged on the floor, still as stone, his breaths measured as he gathered mana, the soft glow of the moon painting silver along his features.
I remained beside Sister Mary, watching. She looked serene—peaceful, even—but I could feel the weight she carried beneath that calm smile. She was happy, yes, to be returning to the place where she truly belonged… and yet, part of her still clung to Yuuta.
Her voice was a whisper, fragile as drifting ash.
"My queen… why would the Spirit Queen send Yuuta here, when he belonged to our world? Don't you think it's unfair?"
Her voice trembled. Though her eyes were hidden, I could see tears slipping from beneath the blindfold. She truly didn't want to leave him.
I crossed my arms, unsettled. "I don't know either, Sister Mary. I've never bothered with the will of lesser gods. They've always seemed… beneath me. I have no explanation."
That was when Grandpa stirred. His eyes opened, glowing faintly in the moonlight. His voice was calm, heavy with something I couldn't quite name.
"The Spirit Queen must have reason for it, Erza. She is the foundation of the elves, their eternal wisdom. If she sent Yuuta away, then she must have seen something the rest of us cannot. The day she looked upon him, she saw more than a boy—she saw a possibility."
I scowled. "And what could she possibly see in Yuuta? He is the weakest being I know."
Grandpa did not flinch. "Lesser gods can peer where mortals, even dragons, cannot. Perhaps the moment she looked at him, she glimpsed something that threatened the world itself. That's why she interfered."
The words tightened something in my chest, though I refused to let it show. "Rubbish. He is completely human. We've tested him, examined him again and again. His body, his mana flow—everything is ordinary."
Grandpa gave a slow nod. "You are right, Erza. I, too, found nothing unusual. Sister Mary raised him under close watch, and even she confirmed he carried no trace of divinity. No spark of extraordinary blood. He is, in every measure, human."
I exhaled sharply through my nose, my tail twitching with unease. "Then what are we missing? Why would a being like the Spirit Queen interfere in the fate of a mortal?"
Grandpa fell silent. Sister Mary lowered her head.
No one answered.
For a long moment, the balcony lay in stillness—only the sound of crickets and the night wind filling the silence left behind by questions none of us could answer.
Grandpa broke the silence first. His tone was low, uncertain.
"…I just remembered something."
My head snapped toward him. "What?"
His expression shifted, as though a memory had clawed its way up from long ago. "Back at the academy… Elena's first day of school. A human whispered something when they saw Yuuta. They called him…" Grandpa's eyes flicked toward Sister Mary, searching. "…a cursed child."
The words made my brows knit together. A chill crawled down my spine. Slowly, I turned to Sister Mary. "Yes… now that he mentions it, Sister Mary, you once said something like that. About Yuuta's childhood."
Her breath caught. For a moment she didn't speak. Then, with trembling hands clasped before her, she finally admitted, "I don't know the full truth. But… whenever a human family tried to adopt him, misfortune struck. Accidents. Illness. Sudden loss. Some small, some severe. It became impossible to ignore." She hesitated, her voice lowering further. "I began to notice a pattern. Whenever Yuuta felt deeply lonely… or depressed… bad luck seemed to ripple around him, hurting those closest to him."
My eyes widened in complete shock as I asked, 'What do you mean, Sister Mary? I don't understand.'
She lowered her head, her voice soft, heavy with memory. "Every family that tried to adopt Yuuta was struck with misfortune. Sudden accidents. Illness like I mention earlier. Their finances crumbling overnight.
Sometimes small things—sometimes… devastating. The other children said whenever they played near Yuuta, they'd end up hurt. Toys breaking, bones breaking. And the adults… I remember one man, James. He tried to adopt Yuuta." She swallowed hard. "A week later, he threw Yuuta back at the orphanage's gates, swearing never to see him again. His wife had fallen sickness. His Offices caught fire. His business collapsed within a week."
The night seemed to still around her words.
She continued, almost whispering now. "Even the other sisters at the orphanage… those who cared too much for him… weren't spared. One burned her hands while cooking. Another broke her spine falling down the stairs. And one—" her voice cracked, "—one was struck by a Truck in the street. After that, rumors spread like wildfire. People avoided him. The children shunned him. They called him cursed."
I sat frozen, my hands curling into fists.
"And Yuuta…" Sister Mary's voice wavered. "That boy was so afraid of hurting others, he forced himself to smile every day. He thought if he stayed cheerful, if he never let sadness take root, then maybe the curse wouldn't spread. That's why he laughed so much. Why he acted the fool. Not because he was careless… but because he was terrified."
A long silence settled. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath.
I exhaled slowly, my chest tight. "…He really does smile no matter what happens. I used to think he was an idiot for it. But now… I see. He wasn't trying to be strong for himself. He was afraid of hurting the people around him....no me."
Grandpa stroked his beard, his eyes narrowed with thought. "If that is true… then perhaps this is the answer. The Spirit Queen must have sensed it. His curse, his bad luck—call it what you will. If such a thing grew unchecked, it could destroy not just a family, but an entire kingdom. Perhaps even more."
I shook my head, unwilling to accept yet unable to dismiss it. "…So you think she sent him away to prevent disaster?"
"Or to prevent others from using him," Grandpa said gravely. "A weapon like that… humans, vampires, dragons, Fallen Angel—any race would either try to exploit it or destroy him."
The thought made my chest tighten further. "…Maybe. It's possible. But it's still just theory. None of us know the truth."
Sister Mary's voice was barely above a whisper. "…And yet, doesn't that make it even more frightening?"
The balcony fell silent again.
Only the sound of the wind moved through the night, carrying the scent of the city and the weight of secrets none of us dared to voice.
The stars above shimmered indifferently, cold witnesses to our fragile peace.
But in my chest, the silence was suffocating.
If I leave Yuuta's side… now, he would fall into despair. That foolish mortal hides his pain behind a smile—always laughing, always teasing—so that no one else ever feels hurt. But I've seen through him. I know how fragile his heart truly is. If depression swallowed him… if he lost hope completely…
I cannot imagine how he would endure it. What if he tried to take his own life? What about my three wishes—financial security, care, and the bond.—they would all be wasted.
I want him to live happily, even when I am gone—not crushed by sadness.
I have to find a way. A way to make sure he survives, to make sure he keeps living—for me—even if I cannot be by his side, Becasue.
War is coming. I can feel it in my blood, as surely as dawn follows night. My enemies are restless. My past will not forgive me. If Yuuta and Elena remain at my side, they will be dragged into a storm born for dragons and fallen angels.
But if I reveal the truth… will he understand?
Will he see my choice as love, or betrayal?
To be continue...
(Yuuta's POV – Special Bonus scene: Birthday Chaos)
Hey, everyone—guess what day it is?
Reader: "What?"
It's my birthday! 🎉
Reader through phone: "Wait, really??"
Yes, that's right—the legendary day when this humble mortal graced the world with his existence: September 22nd!
"Shut up, moron!" Erza's sharp voice cut across the kitchen. She stood there in an apron, hair tied back, whisk in hand like it was a weapon of war.
Yep. That's my wife, the mighty Dragon Queen—currently locked in a deadly battle against flour, sugar, and her own temper. Honestly, the scariest part isn't her magic… it's the way she glares when I sneak frosting off the bowl.
She slammed the whisk down. "Stop grinning like an idiot and hand me the chocolate!"
"Yes, ma'am!" I saluted dramatically. My assignment? Decorating little chocolate dolls—supposedly representing our family. They were meant to look cute. Instead… well, let's just say they had the tragic charm of melted golems.
Elena peeked over, giggling. "Papa, this one looks like you! And this one looks like Mama!"
"Of course, little chef. Now remember what I told you," I said.
She puffed up proudly. "Yes, Papa! I'll be ready for the photoshoot!"
Time skip →
After what felt like an eternity of chaos—frosting explosions, chocolate casualties, and Erza threatening to blast me into the next dimension—we finally finished.
"Elena, come here!" I called.
Our daughter skipped over with sparkling eyes. Erza carefully handed her the cake, and Elena hugged it as if it were a priceless treasure.
"Alright, smile for the camera!" I said, holding it high.
Elena posed with the cake, her grin brighter than the candles. Behind the Camera, Erza and I leaned in, trying not to laugh, well let's say we are not ready.
Click. Click.
The photo froze everything—the cake, the laughter, the warmth. My fiery wife, my precious daughter, this tiny apartment that somehow felt grander than any castle… and me, the luckiest fool alive.
So here it is—our little gift to you.
⬇️ Click the Way to see the picture! Where Elena hold cake. ^_^