Under the low luminance, Imperial General Zayden, Lieutenant General Helain, and Major General Aaron and Major General Liam of the Royal Legion sat in a circle around a table. They took shelter from the rain in a shabby inn after exiting the forest and sending the other knights back.
For a long moment, none of them uttered a word. They were speechless after hearing what the general just said.
"Those bastards!" The most short-tempered of them, Aaron cried, slamming his fist on the table.
"Calm down, Aaron!" Liam frowned, pushing his hand away from the table.
"But–"
He stopped midway when Helain began speaking.
"I had a hunch something wasn’t right about those knights. I should’ve told you. I assumed that you called for reinforcement from the Royal Knights..." she explained.
"It’s the fault of none of us! We all know that dragons can go on a rampage because of that curse. We didn’t know they would pull a trick like this," Liam calmly stated.
"You are right, Liam. But now, what do we do about this?" Aaron pointed at the dragon egg placed on the floor, beside Zayden.
The four looked at each other. None of them wanted to take care of a "child".
Zayden inhaled deeply, picking up the egg.
"I will take care of it. After all, I am the one who killed its ... mother." He hesitantly said, unsure of his own statement.
"But General, do you know how to take care of a baby dragon? They are very different from your kind..."
"My kind?" Zayden smiled, raised an eyebrow at Helain.
"I mean... they’re hard to deal with because they bond emotionally with the person they imprint as their parent."
"I can handle it."
Zayden looked outside through the small dirty window of the inn. The rain had ceased, the sun had turned peach orange, slowly setting.
"We should head back," he said, standing from his chair.
***
Zayden entered through the iron gate, drenched. Water dripped down from his armour, mixed with dragon blood on the marbled floor, staining it.
"The weather of Revhara can’t be trusted," he mumbled, annoyed.
He pulled away his dark blue hair that fell on his forehead. Just after he left the inn, it began pouring again.
But that was an unusual event.
What intrigued the servants was the thing he carried.
In his arms, the egg was wrapped carefully in his black coat.
He passed through the row of servants bowing to him upon his arrival, leaving them curious. However, they couldn’t steal a glance because it was wrapped to the point where even a bee wouldn’t be able to enter and see what he carried.
Once he stepped inside the mansion, he turned.
"Clean the floor properly. It’s dirty."
As he said those words, he turned his heels, stepping inside the mansion.
But the servant’s souls had left their bodies. Whenever their general, the charming, kind, caring, would say the floor was dirty–it simply meant everything had to be perfect tonight. And the perfect General Zayden wanted was unachievable.
When he entered his bedroom, he looked for a space to place the egg. He was unsure where else he would put it.
He examined his room, to which he barely ever paid attention.
Thin golden curtains that covered three large windows, white bookshelves with books he read countless times, a white table...
"The table..." he whispered.
Then paused.
If he put it on the table where he did his paperwork whenever he didn’t wish to go to his study room, the egg could roll down and... break.
He shook his head.
No, no. That wasn’t an option.
Then, his gaze trailed off to his large bed, warm velvet blankets...
Yes, this was it.
Zayden placed the egg on his bed despite how drenched it was because that was the best place for it.
The door creaked open, and a young man entered the room.
"Sir, I heard you’ve returned," he bowed.
"Yes, James," Zayden sighed, stretching his shoulders. He unbuttons his wet shirt, sticking to his skin.
"You must be tired after a long day... Let me give you a massage," James approached him, reaching for his broad, muscular shoulders. He gently pressed some pressure on Zayden’s bones, slowly relaxing them.
Zayden’s body, however, stiffened under his touch. He looked at him without turning.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, swatting his hand away from him–not harshly, but not gently either.
"I’ve been serving you for years, why are you still acting like I’m a stranger when I touch you?" His once soft voice shifted to a sharper tone.
Zayden let out a soft chuckle.
"Not again."
James frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Before he could speak further, something shifted in the air.
Zayden glared at him, his eyes a deep blood red–almost blood thirsty.
The servant covered his mouth, his knees buckling. He dropped to the floor, gasping for air.
"G-General! I-I’m sorry!" He choked.
"Who sent you?" Zayden pulled a chair, taking a seat. He crossed his legs, a dark light glowing around him.
"I-I... Well..." James groaned. "The Duke of Danman asked me to personally investigate if you can perform... sexual..." He paused, tears flowing down his face. "I... My mom is sick and the Duke promised he would treat her..."
Zayden looked at the man on the ground, unbothered.
"And why would he go to such great lengths?"
"Well... because he wishes to send you a proposal of marriage for his second daughter."
Zayden scoffed, amused by the servant’s words. As if he heard a joke.
"Marriage? Our kinds can’t marry their kinds," he reached for the hilt of his sword.
Noticing the movement of his hand, James screamed.
"D-DON’T KILL ME, PLEASE!" His lips quivered, his hands folded as he begged. "P-Please, spare me."
"Oh," Zayden blinked. "I won’t kill you. Just go tell him marriage is not on my list for the moment."
James nodded quickly and stormed outside the room as if he were chased by a bloodthirsty beast.
"Nobles never change, do they?" Zayden chuckled, watching the servant run for his life.