Night fell like silk.
There was no ceremony. No fire. No guards posted near the chamber.
Just silence.
And the faint scent of something soft—lavender, perhaps. Or something floral I'd never learned the name of.
I stood beside the bed, stiff and uncertain. My hands trembled slightly as I stared down at the covers.
Behind me, she was already waiting.
Dressed in a dark, smooth nightgown that clung to her in all the right places. Hair loose. Wings folded. Eyes watching me.
"You're scared," she said softly.
I turned halfway to deny it, but I couldn't lie.
"A little," I whispered.
She tilted her head.
"Do you know how dragon biology works?"
I blinked. "No?"
"We're demi," she said.
"...Demi?"
"Demisexual," she clarified. "We don't become... aroused from anyone. Not without bond. Not without trust."
She stepped closer.
"And I trust you."
My throat tightened.
"You're not getting away tonight," she added gently. "You're mine. And I've waited long enough."
I swallowed.
She didn't say it like a predator. She didn't say it like a command.
She said it like a promise.
"Lie down," she told me.
I obeyed.
My heart was pounding. My hands were sweaty. But I did it.
She joined me on the bed, crawling over slowly, her body warm and soft and everything I'd dreamed of and feared at the same time.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, eyes locked onto mine.
"I never thought you would," I replied.
"You're not here to perform. You're here to feel."
I blinked. "I… I don't want to disappoint—"
She silenced me with a clawed finger gently pressed to my lips.
"You won't," she whispered. "You couldn't. Not with me."
She leaned down, resting her forehead against mine.
"I want you to enjoy it. If you can't, or don't, or feel too overwhelmed—tell me. I'll stop. I'll hold you. I'm not here to take. I'm here to share."
I stared up at her.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
I didn't feel like a servant.
I felt loved.
---
The next morning, light filtered through the windows slowly.
I woke up with her arm draped over my chest, her breathing steady, her tail lazily curled around my leg like a blanket.
And I was smiling.
Not because something amazing had happened.
But because I wasn't scared anymore.
Because last night, the Queen of Monsters became something else entirely.
She became mine.
A month passed.
And just like that, the war was over.
Filurhol fell faster than anyone had expected. Their armies were crushed in a week. Their capital surrendered within two. Vilo didn't even break a sweat. She didn't need to.
She was too powerful.
Too smart.
Too terrifying.
And she never once needed to leave her throne.
Still, I felt like she deserved more than just bowed heads and tribute wagons. So I asked her one day, timidly, while organizing her scrolls:
"Can I do something for you?"
She didn't even look up. "You serve me every day. There's no need."
"I know, but… I want to reward you."
That made her pause.
For once, she looked awkward. Not angry. Not annoyed. Just… uncertain.
"I don't need gifts," she muttered. "There's nothing you could give me that I don't already have."
But I saw it.
The tiny flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
So I took that as a yes.
---
It took all day.
I cleared the entire kitchen, kicked out the head chef and his four assistants, and cooked everything myself—sweating over unfamiliar stoves, chopping foreign vegetables, trying not to burn my hands on enchanted cookware that had a mind of its own.
But I did it.
A full-course dinner. Meat seasoned with fire herbs. Spiced steamed greens. Baked skyfruit tart with a sugar glaze. Even her favorite tea, brewed the exact way she liked.
When she walked into the dining hall that night, dressed in a casual robe, her silver hair tied lazily over one shoulder, she stopped dead at the sight of the massive table I'd set.
"You made all this?"
"Yeah."
She walked slowly around the table, eyeing the dishes one by one.
"You had no help?"
"Nope."
She stared at me.
Then sat down.
For several minutes, she ate in silence.
I stood by the side, unsure what to say.
Finally, she looked up.
"I'm not reacting because it's a reward. Or because I'm touched."
I nodded. "Got it."
"I'm just… enjoying the food."
"Sure."
She kept eating.
Then, after a moment, she added quietly, "...It's good."
I smiled.
Then she gestured to the seat beside her. "Sit. Eat with me."
"Oh, I wasn't planning to. This was for you."
Her brow furrowed.
"You don't want to eat with me?"
"No, I just thought—"
She frowned harder. "...So I eat alone now?"
Her voice dipped slightly. Not angry. Not pouty. Just… soft.
I blinked.
Was she sulking?
She looked down at her plate and grumbled, "You cooked for me. And now you're going to stand there and stare?"
That did it.
I sat down beside her.
And we ate together in silence.
No ceremony.
No throne.
No kingdom.
Just her and me.
And I realized something that night.
In six months, Vilo had gone from a terrifying dragon queen who ruled with claw and fire… to someone who pouted when I didn't sit beside her at dinner.
And I loved her for it.