Then maybe they would have a chance to grow up with better temperaments.
Although Riley couldn’t help but think of one grumpy dragon as he watched something unusual.
Orien had gone through a phase, scrutinizing each dish like a contest judge. He’d savor and judge everything, only it didn’t take too long, as the baby dragon’s stomach seemed to be a pocket dimension in itself. So he’d just gobble everything up while trying to look as disinterested as possible.
It was just after he’d gone through what he called a death trap. He’d said things, but still ate anyway; clearly, the baby dragon just felt the need to talk about everything so that no one could forget about the things he liked.
The spaghetti came next, and Riley figured he’d explained that it symbolized long life. So humans would generally prepare noodles when it was someone’s birthday.
That was when Riley witnessed something unusual.
Orien, wide-eyed at the idea, took the entire serving plate in his stubby claws, shoved it toward Liam, and said with smug solemnity, "Here. Eat all of this. Between the two of us, you’re going to need more of it."
Liam practically lit up, eyes sparkling. "Really?! Thank you, Lord Orien!"
Still, in the end, the two dug in. Liam convinced the baby dragon that he needed to at least try it, and considering how dragons were immortals, then only a bit would be needed.
Not like it would be hard to convince the dragon, who was practically salivating as he realized he wouldn’t be able to taste the thing he’d just given away.
With a few more coaxing words, Orien finally allowed himself to succumb to the temptation, and soon enough, the two of them had noodles hanging from their mouths. At the same time, Riley felt that it was adorable for a dragon to actually share.
But then again, if he asked Orien, the baby dragon thought it was needed because, with how tiny the human was, even the wind could probably take him away.
Clearly, he couldn’t let that happen when someone had just pledged his allegiance to him.
So what was long life when he was an immortal? He could just afford to share at least that.
Although it seemed like they weren’t the only ones to notice, as even Kael looked interestingly at that thing called spaghetti.
If anything, the dragon lord thought Orien ought to be sharing that with twig-like Riley, instead of the little kid who only had to stay at home.
Tsk.
Because even if ordered to stay at home for a vacation, his aide would still choose to come out and inevitably encounter trash.
Obviously, Riley would deny this. But how could he, when it was the only explanation for why he was always in the middle of something?
Several people were in the middle of their thoughts, including the Eldest Hale, who wasn’t quite sure how to feel about all this.
However, his uneasiness couldn’t even take root because his eldest son pulled something out of the preservation box.
Flan.
Small, golden, shining flan.
The baby dragon stopped breathing.
He didn’t even blink.
The pancakes had been one thing—unusual, towering, impossible. But this... this was tiny. This was jiggly. This was something that melted on his tongue and made his stubby wings tremble with every bite.
How could something so small taste so powerful?
Then he found out his uncle had helped make it.
Orien nearly passed out on the spot.
He had been touched. Touched by the hands of the dragon lord himself.
Touched with sugar.
It was too much. He almost wept.
And yet his awe didn’t last long. Because when he looked over... his uncle already had ten servings stacked neatly in front of him.
"?!"
The betrayal was instant.
What the—?!
Apparently, Riley explained, when they made the flan together, Kael had quietly ensured an "acceptable portion" was set aside for himself.
Acceptable, in dragon lord terms, meant a mountain.
Riley remembered it vividly. The flan had been planned as full, generous servings. Smooth, golden, custard-rich circles meant to be distributed as a gift to Lord Karion and Lady Cirila, as well as something for Orien’s birthday.
But no.
Because Kael wanted "just a little more," they had been downsized into tiny cupcake-sized flans—small enough to fit daintily on a spoon, all so the great lizard could hoard his share in bulk. Because he allegedly helped make it.
It was compensation.
And what could Riley do but agree, because who in their right mind would pass to the underworld for flan?
Thankfully, Orien didn’t push for a trial.
Because he was a dragon through and through.
And what dragons liked, he liked. So he’d been rather distracted from focusing on the offending lord. Also, it wasn’t like Riley was going to inform the baby dragon and Kael’s parents that most of the flan was already in the dragon lord’s guts
Anyway, Orien looked happy enough to know that Kael had brought his own stash and wasn’t taking from what was on the table.
The golden blob’s eyes gleamed as he spooned up another wobbling bite, tail thumping unconsciously against the chair leg. Flan, soft as clouds, sweet as treasure, and rare enough that it tasted like victory.
Riley watched all of this, and a dangerous thought began to form.
After retiring...
Should he just open a flan restaurant?
Because just by looking at this, he might just be able to start generational wealth from flan!
That or a day care? Because who would’ve thought he’d be good enough for dragonlings?
See, finally, it was the time for gift giving, and Orien was surprised, since he didn’t think such a thing would happen when he had only just met these people.
But even then, they were really set on giving him something!!!
"W-wait! There’s no need for such things!" He tried to explain, but what could he do when he was being stared down by intimidating humans with shiny eyes?!