Would you dance with me my lord?

The king resolved her concern. The knife on his waist made a clinging sound. She closed her eyes, then opened them.

The king left the dining area and walked down the hallway. The princess quietly followed. Suddenly, the king stood by one of the doors. The servant who was guarding the golden door with a curvy pattern greeted them and opened the door. The giant door opened without making any sound.

The room was the king’s office. Inside was a cleanly organized desk, bookshelf, sofa, and table as well as the subtle scent of ink. The door closed and the king walked to the desk. Ashite was looking down at the patterns on the floor. The tangled group of colors seemed to represent the art of Monterobis.

“Princess, it would be better for you to stop what you are doing.”

“…”

“I will keep providing you with the lifestyle you have right now as long as you stay well- behaved.”

Ashite looked at the king. The king dryly said that he would guarantee the peaceful life that she had been wanting to have. The king would not say this just as a joke.

Throughout the ten days she spent there, she was provided with exactly what she needed. Although she did not eat much, the meals were great, and the servants’ services were excellent, too. This arrangement was good enough for her — as long as the king did not consider her to be his trinket, that is.

“I will let you go after both countries’ after-war process is done.”

Ashite tried to hold onto herself. She could not hide her facial expression well. She could control her smile, but she could not stop the joy, surprise, and bit of curiosity coming out of her eyes. That was how exceptional offer was.

In fact, if she thought more about it, there was no way that the king would release the princess that simply. Although she did not know the exact reason why she had to come here, she knew it was related to the war. She assumed that he would not let the captive go free that easily. Ashite was very excited about his proposition, but she acknowledged that there had to be more to it.

But that was not the important part. The most important thing for Ashite was that the king was guaranteeing her a peaceful life. It was the only thing she ever wanted since she was born. Even though it may take a while and even though it may be hard to go back to Skara, Ashite was willing to wait if what she wanted was waiting there for her.

“… are you telling the truth, your highness?”

“I promise.”

The king took a paper out from the lowest drawer of the table. It was the royal paper, with a small golden dragon on it. He started to write using a pen with colorful feathers. He was writing very quickly, but the writing was clear.

Ashite looked at what he was doing, trying to process the thought of what had just happened.

<> Ashite wondered.

It surprised her that the king was able to produce such detailed paperwork so quickly. Ever since she first met the king, she was constantly in shock at the unexpected things happening. It was one of the very few times in her life that such shocking things happened.

It seemed like he was going to keep his promise. Her heartbeat was beating fast, just like that of a kid getting a present.

The king handed the paper to the princess. It did not even take a minute for her to read what was written. She signed the paper. All of her excitement that she’d been pushing down, gratitude for the peace that she could finally have, and the fact that she did not have to die — everything came out in that signature of hers, which made it a bit crooked. However, she couldn’t care less.

Under the contract saying the princess would be returned safely to her country after the after-war process went well between Monterobis and Skara, the date and their names were written down. The king pressed his stamp right on top of it. It was the royal seal of the dragon with golden scales.

//Latrice Force year 321, December 16th, Del Monte the Third.

Til Buire Purvoi Lu Havre Nante Le Monviso.

Allo Lizdeika Rabri Ashite-Ploca Joanena Pescara Van Squirina.//

Lu Havre, the king, called someone with his low-toned voice while taking out one of the folders in the bookshelf.

“Karbala.”

A person came out of somewhere in his office as if he’d been in there the whole time.

“Yes, your majesty? Do you need anything?”

“Sign this.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Ashite was surprised again. She did not expect to see the head of Etutu in her life.

Etutu, also known as Etunakil Le Nante, was a living proof that the legendary dragon, Monvixo, truly existed before. The very last dragon in the land made Etutu with his own skin, as his lover said to, and gave them to his child, Nante. After the country was built, Monvixo left and Nante passed away; Etutu continued to live to carry on their legacy. It was because of the generations after that Nante’s legacy continued. Being humans and the heir of the dragon, those who had the blood of Monvixo were called “the Nantes.” Etutu was known as the group who only followed the Nantes.

However, she was aware that the group always operated in secrecy. Maybe it was because he knew his group would not be outside of the country, or he figured she could not be any kind of threat just for knowing the face of Karbala. Whatever the reason, even if it showed that she had no power over things, she did not get offended.

Rather than thinking about the head of Etutu showing his face, Ashite was more focused on why the king is doing such work for her. Frankly, he did not need to do any of these things — promising her, making the paper for her, and even having the witness for it. It would be much easier and quicker for the king to use his sharp knife. She wondered especially why Karbala had to be a witness.

Ashite was satisfied. More than satisfied, in fact. The king’s cold-hearted expressions and emotionless way of speaking, his sharp eyes that seemed to read everyone’s minds, and the knife on his waist showed the brutality of a man who took over the whole continent, but he did his best for the captive of an enemy country.

For Ashite, it was more than enough.

Ashite realized he did the things he’d done for her because it wouldn’t be great for either of them if people were to talk about what the princess did to the king during supper. And doing such, regardless of how cruel he was with his knife and with war, reminded the princess how meticulous he could be, just like how his knife.

Even if that was the reason why he was doing this, she did not mind. It was more than enough for her; she couldn’t have asked more.

Ashite could not hold her joy and contentment. Her plan to look for death anywhere was already out of her own sight. What the king is thinking of, or even what the servants would talk about, was nothing she cared about.

She was thinking that she would die as a trinket, but the king treated her well. At this point, there was no reason for her to cause any more violence. Ashite was satisfied. She could have peace without dying. It would be greedy to want more than this, and that was not in her nature.

But besides the paper, there was something else for her to be surprised about.

“And Karbala,”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Which of the Etutu would be the best escort for the princess?”

“…I beg your pardon?”

Even Karbala was surprised. Ashite looked at him, then looked at the king. It may have been called an escort, but she knew its real purpose was to prevent her from causing any further violence.

But still, an escort from Etutu for a captive was not necessary. Just a normal knight would be good enough for the work. The more she thought about it, the more it left curiosity in her head. Unlike her and the servant being surprised, the king did not skip a beat and continued.

“Did you just talk back to me?”

“I-I apologize, your majesty. Please forgive what I have done—”

The king frowned. He did not want any unnecessary words.

“No need. Just answer me.”

“Yeref from the top tier is very agile and fit for this.”

“What is his current task?”

“He is guarding your bedroom, your majesty.”

“Is there anyone who can replace him from the top tier?”

“Noine can replace him right now.”

“Please do so. Send him to me now. And you may leave.”

“Will do. Ou Otoi Monvixo Le-Hoshuchoihre.”

He bowed to the king. With his hand on his face, he spoke in the language of Monvixo with an exotic accent. It was their culture to be more polite than the people of Skara.

Ashite had just experienced what Monterobis is like. While she was in awe, Karbala hid himself again.

The king put the paper into the folder since he was done talking. He put the folder back on the bookshelf. The red cape representing Monterobis was waving gently by the breeze; only the king of the country was allowed to wear it.

As the king turned around towards the princess to look at her, she also looked back at him, too. She thanked him in the manner of Skara. She was like a white butterfly in front of him, with steps of a little bird and a calm smile. She never thanked someone as she did right now. The king also nodded.

As the servant walked away, the door closed.