Chapter 90

Imprinting.

An oath and contract of eternal subjugation.

Once imprinted, it cannot be broken by any means.

The imprint remains even after the partner dies. A half-dragon who loses their mate… wastes away in crushing grief and longing, and in the end, dies as well.

That is why the imperial family of the Grastea Empire does not imprint on just anyone.

Even if they feel a fated pull toward someone, they are taught from childhood to wait—to be certain that imprinting is truly the right choice.

‘For imprinting, the other person has to fully know the half-dragon’s true name.’

And when that person speaks the half-dragon’s true name aloud, every condition is fulfilled.

Lycian had kept his true name hidden from Muriel all this time. But not long ago, when he revealed his power, his name was exposed as well….

‘Muriel, what’s my full name?’

‘Li… Lycianthus Epherney Grastea…?’

‘The conditions were met… so that’s when the imprint happened.’

By the time Dante reached that conclusion, his eyes, fixed on Lycian, had already grown complicated.

Imprinting.

If it had come to this, then no matter what, Muriel had to be protected—thoroughly.

If anything were to happen to her…

‘Lycian might lose his mind. And in the worst-case scenario, if Muriel were to die….’

Before long, Lycian would follow her into the grave.

It wouldn’t be the first time in history.

‘Dragons and half-dragons really are maddeningly devoted creatures.’

Shaking his head, Dante shot Lycian a glance and spoke again.

“Still, you did think it through in your own way. If you hid your true name until you were certain.”

“…That’s not it.”

“Hm?”

When Dante blinked and asked back, Lycian let out a heavy sigh, as if frustrated.

“I was certain from the moment I first saw Muriel. I hid my true name and delayed the imprint because… I didn’t want to burden her.”

“…….”

Come to think of it, imprinting was a calamity that struck a half-dragon without warning—but it was no different for the other person.

If one day, a being closer to a dragon than a human appeared and told you they had imprinted on you—so you were to live as their mate for the rest of your life…

How many people could accept that life without hesitation?

Dante found himself thinking of the Crown Prince and his wife.

…That situation was bleak in its own way. More than a century of one-sided devotion.

‘At least in Lycian and Muriel’s case, it’s mutual….’

“When are you going to tell Muriel?”

“…I’m still thinking about it.”

“You should tell her sooner rather than later. What’s the point of hiding something as important as imprinting?”

“I know.”

Lycian shot Dante an irritated look and flung his pen aside. A mountain of paperwork still waited to be processed in front of him.

Lycian’s temper was nothing new to Dante. He casually picked up a slice of fruit from the table in front of the sofa and said,

“Now that you’ve imprinted, whether she wants it or not, Muriel has to share half your lifespan. So… does that mean she’ll live about five hundred years?”

“…At most.”

A half-dragon’s lifespan ranged from seven hundred to a thousand years. Split that with their mate, and it was cut in half.

In short, the mate of a half-dragon would have to live far longer than an ordinary human—whether they wished to or not.

‘That’s not an easy thing….’

Parents, siblings, friends… the people she knew in her youth would leave one by one. And unlike them, she would neither age nor die.

The only being who could help her endure that life—

would be her bonded half-dragon.

‘Still….’

Recalling the expression Muriel wore whenever she was with Lycian, Dante spoke again.

“Muriel likes you. She might be confused at first when she hears about the imprint, but in the end… don’t you think she’ll accept it?”

“…You don’t know that.”

Lycian had grown up watching two very different examples: the Emperor and Empress, who could hardly bear to be apart, and the Crown Prince and Princess, who had been out of sync for over a hundred years.

Dante understood what Lycian feared, but still—

‘He’s worrying himself sick over nothing.’

Then again, when it came to their mate, half-dragons were known to become anxious and restless.

Deciding to let him handle it in his own time, Dante reached for another piece of fruit—

“More importantly, you’d better be careful when you see Cerulia.”

At Lycian’s sudden remark, Dante froze mid-reach and forced an awkward smile.

“C-Cerulia? Why her…?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

Cerulia was the younger sister of the Crown Prince and Lycian—the youngest daughter of the Emperor and Empress.

As a child, she had fallen in love with Dante at first sight and followed him around relentlessly. But as she grew older, she claimed she no longer liked him and acted aloof.

And Dante?

He had always seen Cerulia as nothing more than a little sister. Just in case, he had never once spoken her full name aloud. If the precious imperial princess were to imprint on him, that would be a disaster.

“Ahem!”

Straightening from his previously slouched posture, Dante cleared his throat for no reason.

“Your Highness, aren’t you mistaken about something? Cerulia doesn’t have any lingering feelings for me anymore.”

Lycian gave him a look of utter disbelief.

Picking up his pen again, he lowered his gaze to the documents and said dryly,

“That’s what you think.”

“No, I—”

“I warned you. Be careful.”

“…….”

Scratch, scratch. The sound of pen against paper filled the silence.

Dante let out a long sigh and pressed a hand to his forehead.

‘Cerulia still has feelings for me? Even now?’

Wasn’t it just childish whimsy?

This is a problem. A real problem.

After losing the most precious person in his life, he had never once felt confident he could love anyone else—whoever it might be.

‘She doesn’t even know how twisted I am.’

Even if Cerulia still liked him, he couldn’t return those feelings.

A tight heaviness settled in his chest. Dante gave up on the fruit and rose from his seat.

There was nothing more for him to do here. It was about time he headed back to the Guild headquarters.

‘And there’s still the issue of what to do about that branch building that dropped smack in the middle of someone else’s field….’

Why did His Highness set the coordinates like that?

With his hand on the doorknob, Dante looked back and said in a sulky voice,

“I’m heading out. Let me know if you need anything.”

He expected the usual arrogant reply—that he needed no one’s help.

“…You too.”

“…?”

At Lycian’s slightly softened tone, Dante’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘What’s gotten into him? Is this Muriel’s influence?’

Well… who knew what went on inside that head of his.

Still, better this than watching his temper get any worse.

Grinning, Dante stepped out of the office.

---

The music room, the gallery, the banquet hall, the library—even the vault.

After wandering around Epherney Castle and sightseeing for quite some time, my legs were starting to ache.

The people in the castle had been exceedingly careful and kind with me.

I’d braced myself, telling myself that if anyone looked at me with disapproval, it couldn’t be helped…

‘But they’re all so kind it’s almost overwhelming….’

They looked at me with bright, expectant eyes, as though they were hoping for something.

…It made me feel like I ought to live up to those expectations.

‘Being on the receiving end of people’s goodwill isn’t exactly easy, either….’

I swallowed a quiet sigh when Marien asked gently,

“Lady Muriel, you must be getting tired. We were thinking of taking a quick look at the garden before returning to your room—would that be alright?”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen the garden yet.

I’d heard there was a fairly large greenhouse in the rear garden… I was curious how it was arranged.

‘Hmm.’

The decision didn’t take long. I smiled at Marien and nodded.

“Alright, let’s go to the garden. And while we’re at it, I’d love to see the greenhouse in the rear garden as well….”

“Oh, of course! We’ll guide you!”

And so, accompanied by the maids, I headed toward the garden.

As we walked slowly and I took in the view… I’d already thought this when I’d looked out the window earlier, but there was something free-spirited about it.

Usually, in castles like this, the gardens are filled with evergreens trimmed into precise shapes.

The result is neat—but monotonous.

‘This garden feels like nature itself was transplanted here.’

That didn’t mean the plants were growing in wild disarray. If you looked closely, there was a certain order to it.

For example, over there—on the left from where I was standing—magnolias and cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

‘They blend together so naturally.’

Purple, pink, and white—an exquisite harmony of colors.

‘Is it because it’s late April? So many spring flowers are blooming.’

Near the pond and the resting pavilion, yellow and white daffodils were in glorious bloom.

If I had to sum up the overall impression in a single line…

‘It’s like a Monet painting.’

‘I should remember this. Maybe I can design my farm like this someday.’

I much preferred this kind of landscape to meticulously sculpted gardens.

I was enjoying myself, strolling along in high spirits—

when, at the entrance leading into the rear garden, I noticed a single tree standing blackened and lifeless.

My eyes widened as I looked up at the dark, withered tree.

‘This tree…?’