BIHNM 05

Chapter 5

An Incomprehensible Proposal

“…Eh?”

“I said, you should marry me.”

I couldn’t help blurting out my confusion, but Lord Margus calmly repeated himself. His serious expression made it impossible to believe he was joking.

“M–me… marry you, Lord Margus…? Wh–wh… why would… how did we get to that?”

My tongue was starting to twist itself into knots. Ever since yesterday, nothing around me had made any sense.

“I was the one who summoned you here,” Lord Margus declared plainly. His voice carried such conviction that I couldn’t detect even the faintest trace of a lie.

“Wh… why…?”

“You came to marry into the Browning family. What does it matter if your husband simply changes from one Browning to another?”

“O–of course it matters!”

“For example?”

His direct gaze made me shrink back, but I still had to say what needed to be said.

“…Please don’t joke about such things.”

“I’m not joking. And that’s not an answer to my question.”

“No one would ever approve of me marrying into the Browning ducal family!”

“That’s strange. Who exactly wouldn’t approve?”

My head spun again at his words. True, my parents had given their consent once—but that was only because they thought I’d be marrying the old general. They’d never allow this… would they?
Who wouldn’t approve—Liliana? My parents? …Or maybe… me?
No, that would make even less sense.

“I could never handle such a responsibility,” I finally managed to answer after some thought. “I’m not suited for it at all—I haven’t even debuted in society.”

“The only two things I require of a wife,” he said evenly, “are good health, and that she look toward the same goal as I do.”

“That’s… all?”

For a general’s conditions in choosing a wife, that seemed far too lenient.

“Yes. As long as those are met, the rest is up to you. I’ll grant whatever you wish for.”

“My… wish…?”

What was my wish, really? To return to the dragon riders’ village? To never worry about food or shelter again?
No—focus. What did he mean by “looking toward the same goal”? Surely not an actual direction…

“What exactly do you mean by that—”

Before I could finish, a large black shadow appeared behind him.

“—!”

A dragon!
A magnificent one—graceful and powerful, peering at us curiously through the glass window.

Did Lord Margus not notice?!

No, that couldn’t be. We were in the middle of the capital. A wild dragon couldn’t possibly stroll into a townhouse like this. Which meant… he was perfectly aware.

“She’s the dragon I rode into battle,” he said. “Her name is Polka.”

That explained everything. Dragons and riders share a bond like two halves of a whole. Even in peacetime, it was natural for them to stay together. In an estate this large, she could easily roam the gardens.

“I’ll be spending much of my time in the capital now for postwar duties…” he began—but trailed off, as Polka started pressing her nose against the windowpane.
If this continued, she’d break it.

Lord Margus stood and opened the window. Instantly, Polka poked her head into the room, rubbing her nose affectionately against him.
But those amber eyes… were glaring straight at me, the intruder she didn’t recognize.

She was wary of me.

A chill ran down my spine. Dragons are affectionate creatures, but once they deem someone a threat, they show no mercy.

“She seems a little wary of you,” he said calmly, “but don’t worry. She just caught the scent of another male and came to investigate.”

“Do I… smell strange?” I stammered, embarrassed, rubbing my sleeve for no reason.

“Dragons have keen noses,” he replied with a faint smile.

Almost as if she understood his words, Polka withdrew her head and bounded back into the garden. Apparently, she’d decided I wasn’t a danger to her master.
A youthful cry and the sound of rustling grass faded into the distance. Lord Margus closed the window and turned back to me.

“…So,” he began.

“…Right,” I muttered.
Where were we again? The conversation had gone so far off track.
Ah, yes—the old Duke Browning had passed away, his son (Lord Margus’s father) retired, and Lord Margus was soon to inherit the title.
And now he was proposing that I—the would-be widow of the late duke—take the position of his wife instead.

Putting it all together, it was absurd. Nothing this convenient ever happened to me.

“As you saw, Polka is proud and selective about people. But it seems she’s deemed you acceptable, for now.”

“I… didn’t exactly feel welcomed.”

She hadn’t attacked me, which was something—but that proud, beautiful dragon certainly hadn’t looked pleased. At best, indifferent.

“She ran off without incident, didn’t she? If she’d disliked you, she’d have tried to force her way inside,” he said lightly.

“Is that… so.” Maybe I should be more cautious.

Lord Margus sipped from his cup, listening to the faint thuds of Polka running around the garden.
I listened too. Unlike the heavy-footed adults back home, her steps were light and restless, brimming with youthful energy.

“Polka was born and raised on the battlefield,” he said quietly. “She was treated like a princess by her rough company. It’s made her hopelessly spoiled. She refuses to stay cooped up in the royal stables and causes trouble whenever I try.”

He set his cup down with a sigh.

“She lashes out when displeased. If she dislikes someone, she’ll intimidate them just enough to scare them off. No caretaker ever lasts long.”

Ah—so it wasn’t the old general who’d been impossible to serve… it was his dragon.

“She was reliable in war,” he continued, “but this is the capital now. I couldn’t justify pulling staff from the royal castle just to manage her. So when my grandfather’s old manor became vacant, I moved here instead.”

“You care for your dragon deeply, Lord Margus,” I said, trying to sound supportive.

“That’s not untrue,” he replied with a mischievous wink, “but not entirely true either.
I’ve never been fond of aristocratic society. Right now, Polka and I are simply taking a vacation—trying to learn how to live among humans again.”

So that was it. For him, the manor was a retreat.
Polka could stretch her wings, and he could avoid the stifling court life.
They were partners—and co-conspirators.

“Still,” he went on, “between caring for Polka and handling paperwork, I could use a second body.”

He leaned back, raising an arm toward the ceiling.

“It was around that time I heard about you, Algerita. My grandfather didn’t object—but your family, understandably, wasn’t thrilled.”

At that, everything clicked.

So that’s what he’d meant earlier—‘I was the one who called you here.’
“Looking toward the same goal”… meant caring for his dragon, didn’t it?
He needed someone who loved dragons enough to handle Polka—and he was willing to propose marriage just to secure that.

He truly cherished his battle companion.

In other words, this wasn’t a marriage proposal.
It was a job offer.

He needed a dragon caretaker.
I needed work.
And though I had little else to offer, dragon care was one thing I did know.

All I had to do was stay here and care for Polka.
I wasn’t after the title of wife—only food, shelter, and a stable living.
There could be no better opportunity for me.

“I see now. I understand completely!” I said, relieved.

“I’m glad you do,” he replied, glancing at me.
That intimidating aura from before was gone. Despite our differences in birth and status, we were kindred spirits—both lovers of dragons.

“Yes. Please leave it to me. I’ll see it through, I promise.”

“I see. Thank you. I’ll be counting on you.”

He held out his hand. I took it without hesitation.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about—
after all, he was my employer.