Erza spoke calmly, her voice steady as she allowed her past to surface.
"Elena was a surprise to me," she said. "I still remember the moment I gave birth to her."
Her gaze softened as it settled on Elena. She reached out and gently brushed her fingers through the child's hair, patting it with a tenderness she never showed anyone else.
"It was… confusing," Erza continued. "I was good at everything. Strategy. Power. Ruling. But childbirth was something I had never truly understood."
She released a quiet breath.
"When she was born, I was shocked. Something came out of my womb—crying, fragile—and that thing was mine. My own."
Yuuta smiled and let out a small laugh.
The thought of Erza—someone who seemed to understand the world itself—being completely unprepared for something so fundamental felt strangely comforting. Still, he didn't interrupt her. There was no embarrassment in her voice, only honesty… and a faint warmth.
Erza suddenly clicked her tongue.
"Hmph."
She crossed her arms and shot Yuuta a sideways glance.
"You have no idea how difficult it was for me to handle her," she said. "She was an unexpected child who suddenly existed."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"And then you ran away," she added. "Like a father who goes out to buy milk and never comes back."
She turned her face away with another sharp hmph.
Yuuta blinked once.
Then stared at her.
"…Wow," Yuuta said after a brief pause. "You're even using internet dead jokes now?"
"So what?" Erza replied, her voice still sharp with irritation. "You deserved it."
Yuuta sighed softly. He knew better than to argue.
"Hey sorry," he said. "It was not like my intention."
Erza didn't respond.
She remained turned toward the wall, arms crossed tightly, her posture stiff. The faint hmph she let out made it very clear she wasn't ready to forgive him yet.
Yuuta watched her for a moment, then slowly brought his hands together, lowering his head slightly.
"Oh my Queen of Atlantis," he said in an exaggerated, solemn tone, "the most fearless and beautiful woman in the world, please forgive this foolish mortal and continue your story."
Erza turned her head just enough to see him.
For a second, she held her composure.
Then her lips twitched.
And finally, she laughed.
It wasn't loud—just a quiet, genuine laugh that escaped before she could stop it. She looked at Yuuta, still sitting there with his hands pressed together like he was praying, and shook her head.
"You really are an idiot," she said, though there was no anger left in her voice.
She relaxed her arms and glanced down at her hand, as if grounding herself before returning to the past.
"Well… to be honest," Erza began, "when Elena was born, rumors spread faster than I ever expected."
Her voice became distant, reflective.
"The news traveled across the Dragon Kingdom in a single day. Nobles whispered. Elders questioned. Even the farthest regions heard of it."
She paused.
"Gifts were sent. Blessings were offered. People celebrated the birth of a princess, A new heir of throne."
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"For a short while… everything was peaceful...Until.."
Her voice slowed.
Then stopped.
Yuuta noticed it immediately—the subtle change in her breathing, the way her fingers curled slightly.
"…Until?" he asked gently.
Erza didn't answer right away.
"…Until," Erza said at last.
She lowered her gaze to Elena, who slept peacefully between them, unaware of the weight carried by her existence. Erza's expression softened for a moment before something darker passed through her eyes.
"…Until Elena opened her eyes."
The words settled heavily in the air.
The church grew quiet, so still that Yuuta could hear Elena's gentle breathing. He didn't speak. He had expected something like this, yet hearing it spoken aloud—hearing the change in Erza's voice—made it feel far more real than he had imagined.
Erza continued.
"She was still a child when it happened," she said. "The moment her eyes opened… fear spread instantly."
Her fingers tightened slightly against her lap.
"The maids screamed. Some dropped what they were holding and ran outside without even looking back. Only those of royal blood were allowed to witness her directly—to face her gaze."
She paused, then added honestly,
"Including me."
Erza exhaled slowly.
"I was shocked," she admitted. "Her eyes were glowing—pure, crimson red. Like the color of blood under sunlight."
She shook her head faintly.
"Some called it the color of vampires and some tag her Zareth Cursed. But it wasn't that. It was entirely different."
Her eyes shifted toward Yuuta.
"There was no comparison," she said quietly. "Just like you."
Yuuta remained silent.
He gently ran his hand through Elena's hair, listening without interruption, letting Erza's words sink in. The warmth of Elena's small body felt painfully fragile against the weight of the story.
Erza continued, her voice steadier now, but colder.
"The rumors spread faster than before. Much faster."
She let out a soft, bitter breath.
"The story I created—the one about divine blessing, about God's will, just like our ancestor Seraphina—was swallowed whole by those eyes."
Her gaze lowered.
"Elena became a contradiction to my lie."
The word lingered.
"In their eyes," Erza said, "a child born of God should not look like that."
She looked back at Elena.
"And so, before she could even speak… she was labeled."
Erza's voice dropped.
"An outcast Creature."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Yuuta's hand never left Elena's hair, His face was more seriou, Rage flood in his eye making his eye glow again more bright..
Sensing the tension tightening Yuuta's shoulders, Erza let out a soft laugh—light, deliberate, meant to ease him.
"Do you know," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "why I named her Elena?"
Yuuta blinked. The thought had never crossed his mind before. He had accepted the name as naturally as he had accepted the child herself. Still, hearing the question made his heart stir.
"No," he admitted. "I never asked. But now that you mention it…" His eyes widened slightly. "Why did you choose such a beautiful name?"
Erza gave a small hmph and crossed her arms again. "You think I don't know how to name my own child?" she said, feigning offense. "Just because I'm good at fighting doesn't mean I lack sense in other things."
"That's not what I meant," Yuuta said quickly, raising his hands. "I was just genuinely surprised. 'Elena' doesn't sound like a name chosen on impulse."
Erza didn't reply right away. Instead, her gaze drifted upward, toward the painted ceiling of the church. Her eyes lingered on a figure etched among the clouds—a single star, shining above all others.
"When I first held her," Erza said softly, "I was overwhelmed. Happy in a way I had never known before. She was mine. My child."
Her fingers tightened slightly around Elena's blanket.
"Everyone else saw her as a threat," she continued. "A shadow that would bring ruin to the Atlantis Kingdom. Darkness, they called her."
A faint smile curved her lips. "But to me… she was light."
Yuuta listened in silence, afraid that even breathing might break the moment.
"I remember looking up at the sky that night," Erza said. "There was one star that stood out—brighter than all the rest. Distant, unwavering."
She lowered her gaze to Yuuta. "So I named her after it. The Elanomato Star. The brightest star that hangs above the Atlantis Kingdom."
Yuuta frowned slightly. "Stars like that exist everywhere, don't they? What made that one so special?"
Erza's voice softened, almost tender.
"It's true there are many stars," she said. "But Elanomato is different. It is far larger than people realize, positioned directly above our kingdom—as if it were assigned to watch over us."
She paused, her eyes distant. "Its beauty rivals anything in the heavens."
Then, after a brief silence, she added quietly, "And during my loneliest nights… it was the only companion I had."
Yuuta felt something tighten in his chest as he looked at Erza—not the Dragon Queen, not the ruler of Atlantis, but a solitary woman who once looked to the stars for comfort.
"Elena must have been a great help to you, right?" Yuuta said softly. "With how gentle she is… the kindest dragon girl I've ever known."
He said it as if the answer were obvious, almost certain Erza would agree.
But the response he received was nothing like what he expected.
Erza shook her head.
"No," she said quietly. "I wish everyone had seen her the way you do. But unfortunately… no."
Yuuta's brows knit together. "What do you mean—no?" he asked, confusion creeping into his voice.
Erza's gaze lowered, her fingers tightening slightly as they rested near Elena. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its warmth.
"That very gentleness," she said, "that kindness you admire so much… became Elena's nightmare."
Yuuta froze.
The words didn't make sense. Not at first. His eyes widened as the meaning slowly sank in, like cold water seeping into his chest.
"A… nightmare?" he repeated under his breath.
He looked down at Elena—sleeping peacefully, her tiny fingers curled without a care in the world.
Erza continued, but this time her voice slowed, as if she were carefully choosing each word.
"Elena was the gentlest child the Atlantis Kingdom had ever known," she said quietly. "From the moment she could walk, she treated everyone the same. Servants, soldiers, even those who feared her—she greeted them all with warmth. She never raised her voice. Never showed fear. Because to her, the world was something to be loved."
Yuuta listened without interrupting. His fingers moved gently through Elena's hair, slow and rhythmic, as if grounding himself in the warmth of her presence.
"That kindness," Erza said after a pause, "became a problem."
Yuuta frowned. "A problem… how?"
"The Elders grew uneasy," she replied. "In my world, kindness is not seen as strength. It is seen as vulnerability. And Elena… she was my heir. The one destined to sit on the throne."
Yuuta's hand stilled. "They were afraid she'd be weak?"
"They were afraid she'd be merciful," Erza corrected softly. "Afraid she would show compassion to non-dragons. Afraid she would rule with her heart instead of fear."
Yuuta's expression darkened. "So they decided to—"
"To erase her," Erza said, her voice steady but cold. "To kill her before she could become queen."
The words hung heavily in the air.
Yuuta's fingers curled into a fist. Anger rose in his chest, sharp and uncontrollable. "Why?" he demanded. "They could have just let her live. Being kind isn't a crime."
"In their eyes, it was," Erza replied. "A kind ruler threatens a system built on dominance. To them, Elena was not a child—she was a future mistake."
She took a slow breath. "Groups began to form. Some within the court. Some in the shadows. Officials who spoke politely by day and sharpened knives by night. Different names, different ranks… but one shared goal."
Yuuta swallowed hard. "It must have been unbearable," he said quietly. "Protecting her every moment. Never knowing who to trust."
For the first time, Erza's expression softened.
"No," she said, a faint smile touching her lips. "It wasn't."
Yuuta looked up, surprised. "What?"
"I wasn't alone," Erza continued. "There was someone who stood with me. Someone who helped, again and again, no matter the danger."
Yuuta's anger faded, replaced by confusion and curiosity. "Who?" he asked.
Erza looked down at Elena, her expression distant, as if staring into a past she had tried to bury.
"Her brother—" she said.
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Erza froze.
Yuuta's eyes widened slightly. He had heard it. Clearly.
The room fell into silence, thick and tense, heavy with a truth that had just been revealed—and could no longer be taken back.
To be continued....