I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!-Chapter 57: "The Queen’s Gamble"

(Yuuta's POV)

"So... you're the one who planted the seed in the Dragon bloodline."

I stopped breathing.

Those words alone made my chest tighten with a strange mix of fear and guilt. He wasn't shouting. His tone was cold, almost casual. But the pressure he radiated felt like death itself had leaned in to whisper in my ear.

The weight of his aura crushed the air around me. My lungs didn't work right. My legs threatened to give out.

Then his voice dropped an octave.

"How did you bypass the magical wards surrounding my granddaughter's chamber?"

His eyes glowed faintly, ancient power pulsing behind them like fire sealed in ice.

I couldn't answer. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to.

"Enough, old man. You're going too far," Erza snapped, stepping forward.

That's when the air truly changed.

"Shut up!" he roared, and the sound cracked through the room like a divine judgment.

My heart skipped a beat.

Not because he shouted—

But because Erza flinched.

Erza. The proud Dragon Queen. The unshakable force of nature I had come to admire—

She lowered her head.

Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, and for the first time, she didn't fight back with words or fury.

He turned back to me, eyes burning.

"I'm being serious," he growled. "This human... who is he? A mage? A mutt? Some half-blooded deviant?"

His gaze sharpened further, disgust in every syllable.

"How dare he enter Atlantis... and above all—plant his seed in my precious granddaughter womb?"

His voice echoed like a spell cast into the bones of the world.

"Every action demands a reaction. Do you understand that, boy?"

I felt my knees hit the floor.

My body gave up before I could think.

His presence... it was unreal. Like standing before a god who decided to take personal offense.

He leaned in closer, his breath oddly icy and burning at once, like smoke from an ancient battlefield.

His face was inches from mine. I couldn't move. I could barely think.

"Tell me honestly..." he whispered.

"How long were you... on the bed last time with her?"

"...H-Huh?"

My brain glitched. "Pardon??"

His voice cracked like thunder.

"HOW. LONG?"

"Three hours!!" I blurted out instinctively, without thinking, without breathing.

The silence that followed could've killed a nation.

His brows shot up. "Three hours?"

He blinked, visibly stunned.

"Are you sure? You look... fragile. You lasted longer than any dragon?!"

I opened my mouth to respond—

But I didn't get the chance.

THWACK!

A pair of fists crashed down on both our heads—mine and his.

"What the hell are you two talking about in front of a child?!" Erza shouted, her face flushed redder than molten lava.

I groaned. He rubbed his skull, clearly not expecting the hit.

Elena, from across the room, peeked over the couch, wide-eyed and giggling.

"Mommy's mad," she whispered to herself, clearly entertained.

And just like that, the tension cracked.

Even ancient dragons can get scolded by their granddaughters, I guess.

We were both lying flat on the floor, groaning like two idiots who'd just poked a dragon — and got exactly what they deserved. Erza stood over us, arms crossed, not saying a word. Her glare was worse than the punch. It wasn't just anger. It was disappointment.

Her grandfather sat up first, brushing imaginary dust off his coat like he hadn't just been smacked to the floor by the Dragon Queen herself. Calm as ever.

"I didn't come here to fight," he said softly, but his tone still made the air feel colder.

Then, unexpectedly, he looked at me.

Not just at me — into me.

He leaned in, studied my face like he was examining a relic from a life he didn't want to remember. Then he reached out and gently took my chin between his fingers.

"This face..." he murmured, squinting. "Not what I expected..."

I froze, uncertain if I should pull away or just let him keep inspecting me like a jewel under glass.

Then he turned to Erza, his voice low, unreadable.

"He looks exactly like Yuri. Don't you think?"

My heart skipped. "Yuri? Who's Yuri?"

Erza didn't say anything. Her body tensed. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

"Elena?" I said softly. "Sweetheart, do you know who Yuri is?"

She looked up at Erza with wide eyes. "Mama... who's Yuri?"

Erza didn't answer.

She stepped forward, slowly — like she was moving through water. Her hand reached out, brushed my cheek... lingered. It was a soft touch, but her fingers were trembling.

"Erza?" I whispered.

She placed her other hand on Elena's head.

My heart pounded. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

Her lips parted. A whisper of magic curled through the air like breath on glass.

"Somna Lux."

A soft light bloomed under her palm — a glowing rune etched in the air between us. I felt warmth spread through my chest. My vision blurred. My muscles gave out.

"Elena—!" I tried to hold onto her, but everything felt heavy. My body wouldn't listen.

The world tilted.

The air twisted.

And then—

Darkness.

[Somewhere Between Waking and Dreaming]

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even blink.

But I could hear.

Voices.

Floating in the void around me. Familiar, yet distant — like echoes through water.

Erza's grandfather.

"...You shouldn't have done that, child."

Erza's voice, soft but strained. "I had no choice. He's not ready to hear about Yuri. Not yet. And Elena isn't either."

He sighed. A long, slow breath that carried the weight of centuries.

"Yuri wanted to meet him. You know that."

"I know," she whispered. "But... I can't take the risk. He's not stable. If he finds out the truth now..."

"Yuri can't handle it," her grandfather said. "You've seen the signs. If he breaks again... I can't imagine the fallout."

Silence.

Then Erza's voice, low and trembling.

"I won't let that happen. Not to Yuri... not to Yuuta... not to Elena."

I wanted to move. To ask — Who is Yuri? Why do I look like him? Why is my name whispered like a threat in this storm of secrets?

But all I could do...

Was sink deeper...

Into the dark.

(Erza's POV)

"I'm sorry, Yuuta..." I whispered softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"You still need time... time to understand the truth about your son. Yuri isn't who you think he is. Not yet. If I told you now, I know you'd try everything to find him. You'd act on impulse... and I can't let that happen. Not now."

My voice cracked as I extended my hand, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered above Yuuta and Elena's heads.

"Memoria Aeterna."

The spell was ancient. Forbidden by most clans. A memory manipulation technique that allowed the user to remove or alter memories without causing harm — but it came with a price.

My mana drained instantly. I felt it. Like someone was pulling threads from my soul.

Slowly, I began weaving the spell, targeting every trace of Yuri's name... his face... his presence.

As the light dimmed, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"So, you've chosen to erase Yuri from his mind..."

I turned. My grandfather stood by the window, arms crossed, watching silently. His expression unreadable, eyes colder than ice.

"No wonder he didn't know about his second son," he added, almost casually.

"You knew about Yuri all along?" I asked, my tone flat, but my chest tightened.

"Of course," he replied, sipping his coffee like we were discussing the weather. "I may be old, but I'm not blind. The contrast between this human's personality and Yuri's... it was obvious. Hiding the boy was the smart choice."

He set the cup down on the window ledge and turned toward me.

"You've changed, Erza."

I looked away. "What makes you say that?"

"You used to be the Dragon Queen—the merciless blade of Atlantis. But now?" He paused. "You look... softer. Happier, even. There's light in your eyes. I haven't seen that in centuries."

"That's not true," I muttered. "You're reading too much into things."

He chuckled under his breath. "Maybe. Or maybe you've forgotten what it means to be a queen."

I stayed silent.

Then he added, more serious this time, "The throne still sits empty. War is coming, and your absence is giving hope to enemies who should have been crushed."

I turned slowly to face him. "So that's why you came? To drag me back to the palace? To remind me who I'm supposed to be?"

"No," he said, raising a hand. "I didn't come to force you. A queen must choose her return."

"But let me speak plainly," he said, his voice steady and cold. "You've fallen for a human, Erza. A mortal whose life will pass in a blink compared to ours. You know how this ends. You'll watch him wither while you stay the same."

I stared at him, his words hanging in the air like frost on glass.

"...What does that mean, old man?" I asked, my voice low. But I genuinely wanted to know. There was something in his tone... something that unsettled me.

He took a sip of his coffee, then sighed, almost disappointed. "I shouldn't be surprised you never bothered to learn it. You really don't know how short a human life is, do you?"

I crossed my arms. "I know they're mortal. That they die sooner than us. I've known that since I was a child."

"Yes. Everyone knows that," he said with a quiet nod. "But knowing it and understanding it... are very different things."

I didn't respond. I waited.

He looked out the window, then back at me. "Erza... humans don't just live shorter lives. They burn faster. They shine brightly, but briefly. Most don't make it past eighty."

"...Eighty?" I echoed, feeling a strange tightness in my chest.

"And your human," he continued, nodding toward Yuuta, still unconscious on the floor, "he's already what... in his twenties?"

I swallowed.

"Then, give or take... he has sixty years left. Maybe less."

His words felt like a dagger — not sharp, but slow, pressing into my chest with cruel precision.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

Sixty years?

That's it?

That's all the time I have with him?

I looked down at Yuuta. He was still asleep, his face peaceful, unaware of the storm unraveling inside me. His hand was resting near Elena's, the two of them breathing gently in rhythm.

A warmth spread in my chest — the kind that makes you want to cry, not from pain, but from the terrifying beauty of something you can't keep forever.

My vision blurred.

"...I never asked," I whispered. "I never thought to ask how long he would live."

I always knew humans were fragile, but I never imagined it would feel like this. Like time was already slipping through my fingers before I could even hold it.

Tears welled in my eyes, uninvited.

"I... I'm going to lose him," I said, the words barely escaping my throat.

There was silence.

Even my grandfather didn't say anything. For once, he let the silence speak.

Because he knew I was right.

And deep down... so did I.

To be continued.