Lucian's POV:
"EHHHH???"
The sound echoed through the hall.
Just like mine.
But completely opposite energy.
I smirked.
Few days back...
"Lord Lucian... hail."
"Lord Lucian... hail."
The voices blurred together as I walked through the castle corridors. Guards bowed. Servants lowered their eyes. Everyone knew their place.
Everyone except—
I pushed open the doors to the throne room.
Three elders stood waiting.
I sat on my throne—the Obsidian Seat, carved from stone that had never known sunlight. Cold. Hard. Unforgiving. Like me.
"My lord." One elder stepped forward. "We are here to discuss something with you."
I leaned back. "Go on."
He hesitated. Just for a moment. Then—
"It's time for you to marry. And give us an heir."
The words landed like stones in still water.
I didn't move.
Another elder spoke—blunt, no hesitation. "You are two hundred years old, my lord. The kingdom needs an heir. Someone to rule after you. Someone to continue the bloodline."
I glared at them.
The elder who'd spoken stepped back. Just slightly. Just enough.
Then Martin moved forward.
Martin. The only family I had left since Grandmother left this world.
"My lord." His voice was softer. Gentle. The voice of someone who'd known me a hundred years. "It's been a century. We all know why you don't want to marry." He paused. "But this kingdom needs an heir."
I said nothing.
"The Dragon Empire is preparing for war." Martin's eyes didn't leave mine. "They're our biggest enemy. If something happens to you in battle—if you fall—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
"If you fall," another elder cut in, "the throne goes to another potential leader. Someone who can manage both the kingdom and the war. That's what the kingdom rules say." He straightened. "And we are eligible to do that."
My jaw tightened.
"You have one week," the elder continued. "Marry. Produce an heir. Or the throne passes to someone who can."
Silence.
I looked at each of them. One by one. Let them feel the weight of my gaze.
Then I raised my hand.
"Dismissed."
They bowed. Backed away. Left.
I sat alone in the Obsidian Seat, staring at the sky through the high windows.
My features hardened.
One week.
I stood. Walked to the balcony. Raised my arm.
I summoned him.
Tengshe.
My mythical beast. The only thing my parents left me.
He appeared in a flash of silver—serpentine, massive, ancient. His scales shimmered like frozen starlight. His eyes held centuries of wisdom. And something else. Loyalty. The kind that doesn't question, doesn't waver, doesn't leave.
He bowed his great head to me—not out of fear, but out of respect. We'd known each other too long for fear.
I climbed onto his back. Felt the familiar coolness of his scales beneath my palms.
"my lord?" His voice rumbled in my mind, ancient and deep.
"Away," I said.
He didn't ask more. He never did.
We rose. Cut through the clouds. Left the throne, the elders, their demands far below.
Just wind. Just sky. Just the two of us.
For a few hours, I was free.
*****present*****
I came back to find chaos.
A girl in my hall. Bare feet. Strange clothes. Staring at everyone like they were the ones who didn't belong.
The elders had gathered. Martin was pale. The court was buzzing.
And the girl—
She looked at me.
Not through me.
Not past me.
At me.
Like I was a person.
Not a king. Not a monster. Not a problem to solve.
Just... a person.
I didn't know what to do with that.
So I did what I always did.
I watched.
The elders spoke. Martin confessed. The truth came out—they'd summoned someone from my castle. A woman. Meant to trap me.
And then—
"As per our traditions," an elder announced, "if a woman is found within your domain... you must take responsibility."
I waited.
"You should marry her."
The girl's reaction was immediate.
"Eh?"
Then louder.
"EHHHH???"
The sound echoed off the stone.
Just like mine.
But completely opposite energy.
And I—
I smirked.