BIHNM 18

Chapter – 18

Algerieta and Polka

“…Did I get carried away and talk too much…?”

Since Lord Margus hadn’t returned to his study after that, I was taking care of Polka’s dinner.

“…Sigh…”

Whenever it came to dragons, I ended up talking too much. They were almost the only thing I had in common with Lord Margus, the one clear connection between us.

—And I had clung to it too desperately.

“Heh heh heh!”

Polka seemed cheerful, laughing high-pitchedly, perhaps because Lord Margus and I weren’t together. To her, I was nothing more than an obstacle between her and her beloved master.

“You’re really an infuriating child,” I muttered.

Polka responded with a lively stomp of her feet… almost like she was performing a dance of joy.

“Honestly… a child like you, it’s just malice,” I continued.

“Gya gya!”

Teasing me, Polka jumped even higher.

“Now, now… just because you’re cute doesn’t mean you can get carried away. If you’re going to be so mean, I’ll have to get back at you… maybe by cutting back on your treats,” I threatened playfully.

“My bad, it seems my upbringing was poor. Spoiling you like a princess and doting on you too much is to blame,” I said, letting my frustration slip out.

There was a reaction this time.

“Ah…”

Before I knew it, Lord Margus was standing right behind me.

…Awkward.

“I-I’m sorry! What I just said… that was… we were just playing around. I really don’t think of Polka as infuriating or mean… It’s just… I have this habit of assigning personalities to dragons when I have no one to talk to, and I end up… really, I don’t think of Polka as annoying… it’s not like I’m being mean…”

I babbled on, flustered. There was no reply. Of course he would be angry—after all, his beloved dragon might have been treated unfairly. Given how things went yesterday, it wouldn’t be surprising if I got fired today.

“…Well…”

I looked up, and Lord Margus had a troubled expression.

“…I meant it as a joke,” he said.

“A joke…?”

“There’s no way Polka would just take it lying down, and if I really thought she was infuriating, then that would be Polka’s problem, not yours.”

A weight fell from my shoulders, and all my tension melted away.

“I’m sorry… I just tried to lighten the mood and failed,” I murmured. I felt bad for not being able to play along with his joke, but exchanging apologies now seemed like a waste of time.

—This is probably… where I should laugh.

I forced a small, awkward smile. Lord Margus seemed relieved.

Gradually, I was beginning to understand him a little—well, I had just gotten carried away and messed up.

“Earlier… well, embarrassing as it is, listening to you made me think of the dragon I once raised,” he admitted.

A dragon’s time on the battlefield is limited. Coming from a knightly family, he must have experienced many farewells with dragons.

“I… wasn’t able to see him off properly. I wish I could have given him a better ending. Maybe he resented being taken away from the home he knew… I got a bit sentimental thinking about it,” he confessed.

“I’m sure your dragon was happy to have you, even for just a short time,” I said gently.

Humans vary. Some treat dragons as mere livestock. Even if the law requires them to be cared for, some people are careless, preferring to delegate the dangerous work of raising dragons to others—I had seen many like that at the dragon’s sanctuary.

But he was different. Even spending a little time with a dragon, I could tell.

Lord Margus made a strange face. Perhaps he didn’t need my consolation.

“Sorry… I overstepped,” I said.

“No… not at all. Thank you. So…”

After that, there was an awkward silence. I waited quietly for him to continue.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“No,” I replied.

“Then… would you like to go into the city with me?”

Into the city…? I didn’t have any clear idea where we might go. That he said “somewhere” suggested even he didn’t have a definite destination.

“I have to take care of Polka,” I said. I felt like I should decline.

“You know that a young, healthy dragon can be left alone for half a day without problems,” he said.

“No, my job is to care for Polka!”

“Your job includes other things as well,” he countered.

He meant that, as a wife, I had responsibilities beyond dragon care.

“I… I understand. What should I do?”

“Well… your clothes,” he said.

The color drained from my face.

He was asking me to buy clothes. I hadn’t gotten any yet. The clothes I was wearing were the servant’s uniform—I had received extras, they were comfortable, and I had been perfectly satisfied with them.

Was he implying that my shabby appearance embarrassed him?

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No need to apologize,” he said.

“You don’t have the clothes you want?”

“I don’t feel the need,” I replied.

“Don’t feel the need?”

The wardrobe was packed with countless clothes, enough for me to wear a different outfit every day for a month. If my size stayed the same, there might even be enough for a lifetime.

As a child, I had wanted beautiful dresses, yes. But now, such things didn’t fit my current life, nor did I have anywhere to wear them.

“Even if I dressed up beautifully… the dragon, who isn’t wearing clothes, is far more beautiful than I could ever be…”

“Huh?”

Lord Margus’s sharp eyes widened. My foolish face reflected in them, and I felt embarrassed.

“Please forget what I just said…”

“No. Polka is beautiful… or rather, dragons are. Polka is the most handsome. Though human standards of beauty mean nothing to dragons…”

“Yes,” I agreed.

Polka seemed to understand the compliment, tilting her head and letting out a cute “kyu?” She never did that around me.

“However, that’s a separate matter. No matter how beautiful a dragon may be, you are human. You don’t have fur.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, conceding.

I still didn’t understand Lord Margus’s feelings entirely, but I must follow my employer’s intentions. I had been failing lately, and I needed to make amends.

“You said you weren’t interested in clothes. Does that mean you’re willing to wear whatever I choose?”

“Yes. If you prepare it, I’ll wear anything.”

I doubted he would come up with anything extravagant. Lord Margus was the very picture of practicality—he would surely choose sturdy, functional clothing.