"How so?" I asked, genuinely disagreeing with his harsh self-assessment. He was such a responsible little one who consistently put tremendous effort into everything he did. I genuinely couldn't imagine him being a terrible Duke at all—he seemed naturally suited for leadership.
The little one just shrugged his small shoulders with a maturity that seemed incongruous with his age.
"I'm an introvert to start with," he explained methodically, counting off reasons. "I genuinely hate crowds and large gatherings. I love my solitary alone times with books far more than I enjoy being around people. And I'm admittedly bad at any physical activities—completely hopeless at sports or combat. And I absolutely hate sweating and physical exertion. So I won't ever develop any real combat skills that a Duke requires. And pleasing people, making them like me—I would not be good at that political aspect either." His self-awareness was striking.
"But my older brother is significantly better in all those aspects," he continued, his voice carrying obvious admiration. "He's naturally good with using his body and physical activities. Maybe not quite as talented as brother Arvid" he nodded in acknowledgement, "but he's genuinely agile and strong. And he's a natural extrovert who thrives in social situations. He gets along effortlessly with people—soldiers, nobles, commoners, anyone alike. He may be somewhat of a muscle-head who acts before thinking," a small smile appeared, "but he's genuinely compassionate and deeply empathetic toward others' suffering. Being his trusted advisor and helping him rule wisely from the shadows is more than enough purpose for me." He spoke with such eloquence and conviction that it even made me shudder slightly with its intensity.
*The future of Gorei is genuinely bright with these two working together*, was all I took from that remarkable conversation.
Then I noticed him eyeing with obvious curiosity the papers filled with my notes beside me.
"Would you like to see those?" I asked him with an encouraging smile.
He nodded eagerly, his curiosity clearly piqued. Well, he was still fundamentally a child despite his mature demeanor.
I handed the papers I had carefully jotted down to him. He inspected them methodically one by one, his young brow furrowing in concentration.
"Sister doesn't know these particular words?" he asked me. There was no judgment or condescension visible in his words or expression—just genuine curiosity.
"That's correct," I admitted honestly. "Though I studied and learned the Arthia language back home, there weren't many books available for me to read in Draga to practice with. So there's not much vocabulary I've been exposed to, though I can usually understand the general meaning from context." I told him with complete honesty, not ashamed.
He inspected my notes with an increasingly serious expression, clearly thinking.
"Can I teach you, sister?" he asked me suddenly, genuinely invested in my education and improvement. "I would be honored."
"Wouldn't that take valuable time away from your own extensive studies? I don't want to burden you or interfere with your education," I told him—not because I was embarrassed by a child offering to teach me, but out of genuine concern for his own learning.
"I can definitely spare some time," he insisted. Then he looked directly at Katherine, who had been interested in our conversation but hadn't joined in yet. "You can attend the lessons too," he added graciously. His voice carried surprising gravity.
"You are going to be the Empress of Selon, sharing the throne equally with brother Arvid," he said seriously. "It's genuinely my honor to help you sharpen your language skills for that role."
*Empress of Selon*, I thought. Huh. I genuinely hadn't really thought seriously about that title before, what it would mean. Sharing the throne with Arvid? Was I truly worthy to be a leader to people I had never known before, had never even met? A foreign culture I had never experienced firsthand? But one thing I could absolutely do was give it my complete all, my best effort. Even if that meant humbly learning from a child who was twelve years younger than me. There was no shame in seeking knowledge from any source.
"Alright," I accepted his generous offer gratefully. "Katherine, what do you think?" I turned toward Katherine for her opinion.
She held an expression that clearly read, *'This situation is completely unbelievable and surreal,'* but after a moment she simply nodded firmly, agreeing to participate.
So the next hour or two we spent gathered closely around young Sagar, learning not just the words I didn't know but tracing each word's etymology all the way back to its origin, understanding its meaning in various contexts, exploring other possible meanings and nuances. It was genuinely life-changing and illuminating. He was remarkably a good, patient teacher despite his age. Though the image of two grown women learning attentively from a ten-year-old child might appear somewhat humorous to an outside observer, I didn't care about appearances.
That was honestly the most productive and intellectually stimulating I had felt in days. Then our young teacher had to reluctantly bid us farewell since his ever-present servant gently reminded him it was his scheduled afternoon nap time. So we sat there somewhat dumbfounded after he formally bid us farewell and left, the door creaking shut behind his small figure.
"I can't believe we just had to learn from a ten-year-old child," Katherine finally voiced, breaking the silence.
"There's no shame in it though, is there?" I asked her, studying her expression carefully.
"I will take this embarrassing fact to my grave," she declared with a determined, serious look.
"Twenty-five years old and still ignorant of basic vocabulary—that's not exactly a good look for me," she added with self-deprecation.
"Wait—you're twenty-five?" I was genuinely shocked by this revelation. She was actually older than me by several years. But she looked so much younger than her actual age.
She immediately covered her mouth with her hand like she had said something absolutely blasphemous or forbidden.
"Forget I said that, please," she managed to say after collecting herself and composing her features.
"I don't think I can forget," I replied to her with complete honesty, slightly amused.
"I have a pretty good memory, unfortunately. Even if I actively wanted to forget, I don't think I possibly could," I explained to her.
"Besides, what's wrong with being twenty-five? You're still quite young," I told her honestly, not understanding her distress.
"At twenty-five, most women in Ferne have already married and given birth to at least two children, sometimes more," she explained, her voice carrying complicated emotions. "I never really wanted to get married, honestly. I thought being the next Lord of Ferne would be the answer to the strange emptiness I constantly feel inside—but that wasn't really it either, I'm realizing." She opened up vulnerably.
"I don't know what I actually want from life," she added softly, almost to herself.
Katherine showing her vulnerability so openly was something I genuinely hadn't expected to happen, at least not this soon in our friendship. And I didn't really know what to say to comfort her either, what wisdom I could offer.
"Well, life is fundamentally a journey," I said slowly, remembering something. "A journey to discover oneself and to eventually find the unique purpose of oneself." I distinctly remembered that particular phrase I had read years ago in some philosophy text.
"That was said by a philosopher named Rudan from the ancient era of dragons, in his book where he meticulously documented his extensive travels across the continent. I can't quite remember the exact title unfortunately," I told her apologetically.
"You will someday find your purpose, and I will find mine too," I said, laying my face down on the cool wooden table and looking sideways toward her. I felt utterly drained and exhausted after the intense mental exercise I had gone through just now.
She smiled warmly watching me, her expression softening, and replied simply:
"Yeah, we'll both do that eventually."
As a reply, I yawned widely, unable to suppress it. And I fell asleep before I even knew it was happening, Katherine's kind image blurring gradually bit by bit until everything went dark.
---
When I opened my heavy eyes again, feeling groggy and disoriented and having absolutely no idea how much time had passed—where Katherine had been sitting was now occupied by Arvid. He too was asleep, his handsome face turned peacefully toward me. I noticed he had carefully draped me with a warm blanket at some point.
His breathing was soft and even, rhythmic. It looked like he was dreaming about something pleasant. I reached out slowly, my hand moving almost of its own accord, gently caressing his face and tracing the line of his jaw.
*Am I truly in love with him?* I wondered, the question surfacing. *Or is this just me giving in to what Aiona wants, fulfilling the dragon's desires?*
I considered what I knew. He was genuinely kind to everyone. He was a perfect gentleman in his behavior. He was adorable when flustered. And he was deeply respectful of my boundaries and wishes. Best of all, he loved me—truly, completely, without reservation or condition.
And I could actually imagine a real future with him. A future where we were together through better and through worse, through joy and hardship, growing old side by side.
*I love him*, I finally realized with sudden, crystal clarity.
The truth settled over me like a warm blanket.
Somewhere along this journey south, without quite noticing when it happened, I had fallen completely in love with him.