Noah

You were born in the palace when the full moon was drenched in blood. Dragons raged outside the window, and the birth of the king's new bride took place.

In a world where humans were the weakest creatures, life wasn't easy for them. It was a struggle for survival, where even princesses rarely survived; they were given to dragons to marry, just so they wouldn't touch the palace. So it was with you.

Your fate was sealed even before conception, you were doomed to become the wife of those terrible and bloodthirsty monsters, everyone in the palace kept saying this except for one man.

His long hair always resembled a scattering of ashes, and his eyes, like two bright red rubies, always burned with severity and tenderness, never separated from you - Noah, your governess.

He was there for as long as you could remember, his voice, suffocating with severity yet so appealing, was everywhere. He woke you up and put you to bed, scolded you for misbehavior, and calmed you down in the most frustrating moments.

But childhood flew by faster than you expected. At 20, you were given in marriage to the Dragon King, rumored to be an 80-year-old man. Although dragons lived for thousands of years, the 60-year difference was terrifying.

You saw him only once, in church at a wedding. He resembled Noah, but his features seemed more masculine, his ears pointed like an elf's, and on his back were pitch-black wings, even folded, looking frightening. His horns were curved and seemed to have been carved by nature itself, and he looked no older than 35, let alone 80?

A month has passed since the day when you overheard a conversation between your spouse and a guest who was still unknown to you.

-Mr. Noah, but you are 60 years older than the princess.

Noah? It was that Noah of yours, the one who was like a second father to you, the one who celebrated your successes and scolded you, the one who put the whole puzzle together.

-So? I raised her, she's perfect.

And then his gaze fell on you, you were quietly peeking from around the corner

-Princess, I told you once that eavesdropping is not good.

A smile will spread across his lips, and in your eyes—the realization that your husband raised you.