Chapter 1

“Duke, you like knitted dolls, don’t you?”

At the soft and gentle voice, Dante’s red eyes turned toward Yvonne, who was sitting in front of him.

Yvonne, whose blood carried traces of a fairy, possessed a serene beauty tinged with an air of mystery.

Her soft, curly hair cascaded down, gently framing a pale face so fair that veins seemed as if they might show through. Her lips, which held a faint smile, were a delicate shade of pink. Amidst her overall soft-toned features, only her cheeks were tinged with the deep red of roses.

‘How should I respond?’

Dante pondered for a moment before slowly nodding. At that, Yvonne beamed and burst into cheerful laughter.

“I knew it. Even though your progress has been slow, you’ve been diligently practicing.”

Like a flower blooming in full, Yvonne’s smiling face was utterly endearing.

Captured by the sight of her smile, Dante fell into silence, simply gazing at her. Noticing this, Yvonne slightly hunched her shoulders, seemingly convinced that her words had offended him.

“B-but you’ll improve soon! Everyone learns that way.”

“…….”

‘That’s not why I was staring.’

Dante let out a sigh.

Beyond Yvonne’s shoulder, a round-headed knitted doll peeked out and smirked mockingly at him.

‘That little thing.’

Dante shot a glare at it, but the doll immediately froze, pretending once more to be an inanimate object.

Resisting the urge to press its tiny head down with his index finger, Dante lightly pursed his lips.

As he and the doll engaged in a silent staring contest, Yvonne widened her eyes and spoke up.

“Ah! If you pull the thread too hard, the stitches won’t be even. Try relaxing your fingers a little. Yes, yes, a bit more. Gently.”

Saying this, Yvonne lightly tapped the back of Dante’s hand with her slender fingers.

At the unexpected touch, Dante’s tanned face flushed red in an instant.

‘Hehe.’

The knitted doll snickered at him again. A vein throbbed on Dante’s forehead.

The more he looked at it, the more infuriating it became. To avoid seeing it, he lowered his head and moved his thick fingers busily.

Though his face remained expressionless, he inwardly berated himself.

‘Why am I even doing this?’

At first, he had only pretended to be interested in knitting to lure in this naive, unsuspecting woman.

‘Now I can’t even bring myself to tell the truth.’

Neither the fact that he wasn’t actually interested in knitting nor that he no longer wanted to continue.

Without a word, Dante simply looped the thread onto the needle.

As Yvonne had pointed out, the fabric emerging from his hands was a mess. He sighed again.

Dante Christopher, Duke of the Empire.

The Black Wing of the Empire, Commander of the Imperial Knights, and ruler of the vast northern territory.

The reason he had started knitting—something so far removed from his destiny—went back exactly three months.

***

The earliest memory I can recall does not feature my parents.

Instead, it is of a majestic dragon with vast, beautiful wings the color of deep water—Petuanis.

Petuanis carried me on his back as he fled.

A countless number of people chased after him, shouting as they followed the fleeing dragon through the sky.

“Catch them!”

“He’s carrying the princess! Don’t let them escape!”

“Kill them if you must! Just shoot the arrows, now!”

A deep darkness, the deafening thunder of galloping hooves shaking the ground, furious shouts and curses, the chaotic flickering of torches—

Terrified by it all, I clenched my eyes shut and wrapped my arms tightly around Petuanis’s back.

How long did we flee?

Just as if to prove that no darkness is eternal, the sun rose, and the pursuers eventually gave up the chase.

Finally setting foot on solid ground, I flexed my fingers, which had grown stiff from the cold, and turned to look at Petuanis.

Summoning all my strength, I finally voiced the question I had been desperately holding back.

“Where is Mother…?”

My beloved mother was nowhere to be found.

‘We should have taken her with us.’

I didn’t know who we were running from or where we were headed.

All I wanted was my mother. I believed that if she held me in her arms and told me everything would be okay, then it truly would be.

As I searched desperately, Petuanis gazed down at me with sorrow-filled eyes and spoke.

“You will never see your mother again.”

“What…?”

What did that mean?

My face turned deathly pale as I blinked in stunned silence.

Petuanis’s head, adorned with horns and a flowing beige mane, slowly sank downward as if he were collapsing.

***

〈And I, too… This feels like the end…….〉

〈Fe, Fepe-nim!〉

Blood gushed from the long neck lined with scales resembling those of a snake. A thick spear had pierced through the tough scales.

‘It’s because of me.’

I didn’t understand what was happening, but one thing was clear—I knew exactly why Petuanis was in this state.

He had ended up like this while trying to protect me.

The moment I realized that, tears burst from my eyes. Gripping Petuanis’ foot with my small hands, I screamed.

〈Fepe-nim, you can’t be in pain! Don’t fall asleep!〉

〈Yvonne…….〉

His brilliant golden eyes gazed at me warmly.

〈It would have been nice if I had enough time to teach you magic.〉

〈Fepe-nim!〉

Even as he spoke, Petuanis’ body was growing colder. I could tell—he was dying quickly.

I couldn’t just leave him like this. In desperation, I pulled off the floral-patterned knitted shawl I was wearing.

〈Don’t fall asleep! My mom said you shouldn’t sleep when you’re sick. I’ll bring a doctor. Yvonne will keep you warm. So, please, just hold on a little longer.〉

Then, I covered Petuanis’ body with the shawl, trying to warm him even a little.

But compared to the massive dragon, my small knitted shawl was insignificant. His golden eyes, which had been gazing at me with sorrow, slowly dulled.

〈Fepe-nim!〉

Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut.

〈Someone, please save Fepe-nim!〉

At that very moment—

The knitted shawl I had desperately tried to cover him with began to emit a brilliant light. A soft, gentle glow.

It reminded me of the warmth I felt when my mother hugged me.

‘Why is the shawl suddenly glowing?’

This shawl was something my mother had knitted for me. But it had never shone so brightly before.

‘It’s blinding!’

Unable to endure the radiance, I shut my eyes tightly. And when I opened them again—

〈Huh?〉

The great and mighty dragon had vanished, and in his place lay a small knitted doll.

〈A baby dragon?〉

Cautiously, I picked up the doll. It was a crocheted toy, just like my shawl.

Its round, jade-green head was made of yarn, with tufts of white fluff at the tips. Translucent bat-like wings were attached to its back.

The baby dragon doll was so adorable that I wanted to nibble on it.

‘But… where did Fepe-nim go?’

Where did this incredibly cute thing come from?

Frozen in shock, my shoulders stiffened.

Then, I heard a rustling sound behind me. Clutching the baby dragon doll tightly, I turned toward the noise.

In the soft light of dawn, cutting through the cold air, a young knight in light armor appeared.

When he saw me, his eyes widened. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally speaking in a slightly excited yet gentle voice.

〈Why is a child here? And where did the great dragon go?〉

At the mention of the great dragon, Petuanis, tears welled up in my eyes once again. Sniffling, I answered.

〈I—I don’t know. He suddenly disappeared.〉

〈I see.〉

At first, he hesitated, but soon he approached me, knelt down, and met my gaze.

His face, brimming with excitement, turned serious as he firmly held my shoulders and asked,

〈What’s your name?〉

〈Yvonne.〉

〈Yvonne.〉

Repeating my name meaningfully, he then extended his large hand toward me.

〈If you have nowhere to go, would you like to come with me? I have a son your age. It would be nice if you could be his friend.〉

After hesitating for a moment, I had no choice but to take his hand.

This was the middle of the forest. My mother wasn’t here. Fepe-nim wasn’t here either.

The man who found me in the woods was Count Clyne of the East.

And so, I ended up staying at Count Clyne’s estate. Despite knowing nothing about my identity or origins, Count Clyne and his wife treated me with kindness.

Then, when I grew from a girl into a young woman, my life took a dramatic turn.

〈Yvonne, marry me.〉

The only son of Count Clyne, Emil Clyne, proposed to me.

⊹˙⋆ ༶˖♡ by: Cyn ♡˖ ༶ ⋆˙⊹