Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Jenggala followed behind Bessa as she moved through her early evening routine, the two of them moving through the dying light.

She checked her winter plants, murmured to her herbs, adjusted the covering over the more delicate shoots to protect them from the coming frost.

It was evident that she loved the earth and the things that grew from it, and Jenggala found himself trailing after her like a shadow, carrying whatever she handed him. A heavy pot here, a bundle of stakes there.

For a dragon who could have flattened the entire cottage with a shrug, it might be seen as a curious sight. But their relationship had grown this close. He was pleased about that.

He held the fragile stems with hands that had torn through monsters, and he handled each one carefully.

Yes, he changed too. He learned too. To be a human’s good friend, like the Dragon Lord taught him.

But now he knew, to be more than a friend, he still had a long way to go.

The two imperial guards watched from a distance, and they did not interfere. Thanks to that, Jenggala kept his disguise.

Fiancé, Bessa had said.

Jenggala turned the word over in his mind, feeling its edges.

Of course he knew what it meant. It meant she was going to be the Empress.

She would leave the kind of life this little cottage offered. She would also leave the garden and the chickens and the sea lavender on the other side of the world. She would sit on a throne and smile for crowds and wear those pale yellow dresses every day.

Even though the Emperor had promised to bring her entire life along, could she still live the free way she lived before?

"How did you meet the Emperor?" he asked finally.

It was abrupt, and he sensed that jumping to it might be rude, but he wanted to know.

"He was introduced to me by Her Highness, Princess Angela," Bessa answered, not looking up from the row of winter vegetables she was inspecting.

Jenggala frowned. "So... you didn’t know him before?"

"Yes," Bessa turned and smiled at him. "I just met him recently."

"You..." The dragon’s voice faltered. He stared at her, words failing him. "Then suddenly... fiancé?"

Bessa chuckled and nodded, as if it were the most absurd and delightful thing in the world. "I was surprised too!"

He widened his eyes. "It’s sudden?!"

Once again, that molten iron began to boil in his veins. This wasn’t how humans did things, was it? They didn’t just meet an emperor and become engaged in the span of a few days. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t safe! That wasn’t—his thoughts tangled, hot and restless.

"Yes," Bessa sighed, looking up at the deepening sky. "They awakened a dream I didn’t know I possessed."

Jenggala’s breath caught. "What... do you mean?"

Bessa turned to him and smiled brightly. "Let’s light the hearth and talk. I also want to hear your opinion, my Lord."

She finished her routine with practiced movements, making it look quick, washing her hands and making sure everything was in its place.

She lit the lanterns in the cottage and invited the guards inside. They tried to refuse, of course, but Bessa was relentless, and soon the two imperial guards found themselves seated at her small table.

"His Majesty instructed us to eat the specially provided provisions, my Lady," one of them said weakly.

"Really? What are they?" Bessa asked with genuine curiosity.

"Some beef jerky and bread."

"Do you have enough?"

"Yes. Enough for two grown men," the other guard joked, and Bessa laughed.

"I’m curious now. I want to taste them. Share them with me, and I’ll share my food with you too!"

The guards were speechless. The Emperor had explicitly told them not to burden the Lady, and had provided them with their own rations for the night, even adding an extra portion for each of them.

But even the Emperor wouldn’t have anticipated this too, would he? Of course he hadn’t.

"His Majesty ordered that we..."

Bessa smiled. "Then help me cook."

In the end, swept along by the Lady’s whims, the guards helped her prepare dinner, shared their provisions, and were stuffed to the brim with her hospitality.

It had been a long time since they had eaten home-cooked meals made with such fresh ingredients. It was genuinely scrumptious.

Thankful and slightly dazed, they stepped outside to continue their watch, and Bessa pressed a small, portable hearth into their hands so they could share warmth through the cold night.

Inside, she tended the main hearth while Jenggala sat in silence, paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do or how to help. He had eaten the plate she handed him without a word, and now he simply sat there, watching the firelight dance across her face.

To Bessa, this was fine, of course. He was a dragon, after all. Why would she ask a dragon to busy himself with household chores? It was enough that he had helped with her farming routine.

The guards, too, sensed something about the man. Something dangerous, perhaps, and had wisely chosen to leave him be.

As she sat down across from him, Bessa sighed contentedly. "This kind of night is good."

Jenggala looked at her, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the hearth. And then Bessa began her story, the story of how she had met Angela.

Jenggala listened in silence, his brow furrowing deeper with every word. The favor. The life she had chosen. Her tangled feelings about all of it.

"Maybe I’ve framed the Princess’s favor as something bad or binding," Bessa said quietly. "But from the deepest place of my heart, I actually regard the Princess as someone who saved my life."

Jenggala’s eyes widened. That... He hadn’t expected that.

"The Princess was the one who framed it as a favor that needed to be paid back, like someone shaking hands with the devil. But I know she was trying to make me not feel so indebted to her that I’d give her my life."

Ah. So that was how Bessa saw it.

"Why are you so sure?" Jenggala asked. "She could be just a villain, as bad as the Alchemists she saved you from."

"She’s not." Bessa shook her head firmly. "If she were, why would she ask me to marry her brother in return?"

Jenggala flinched so hard he stood up, the chair scraping against the wooden floor. "What?!"

His eyes went wide, his chest heaving, and for a moment, the room seemed to tilt.

So that was how!

The Princess had demanded this of her. The Princess had traded Bessa’s future for her brother’s crown. And Bessa had agreed.

Bessa laughed, light, almost teasing. "Yeah. Shocking, right? I mean, she should’ve told me to do missions or something, not marry her brother, right?"

Jenggala’s expression darkened.

"Is this something to be joked about?" His voice came out sharper than he intended. His hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, and the firelight seemed to flicker in response to the sudden storm inside him.

Bessa’s smile softened. "It’s for the dream I talked about, my Lord."

"What dream?" Jenggala’s gaze bore into her intensely.

A silence settled between them. He stared at her beautiful face and waited.

Bessa took a slow breath, gathering herself, and then she spoke.

"The dream of freeing my fellow alchemists... and saving the children talented enough to become one."

Jenggala froze. The words landed like stones in his chest, one after another.

The dream... for the alchemists...?

Bessa continued, her eyes never leaving his. "His Majesty is going to marry an alchemist... to create positive propaganda for us, and try to reform the way of the Alchemist, with his own imperial hands."

Ah.

It wasn’t... about love.

It wasn’t about power or romance or any of the things Jenggala had feared?

It was about... salvation.

She was marrying the Emperor to save her people. And that, somehow, made it all so much worse.

Jenggala’s eyes faltered.

Because how could he compete with a dream like that? How could he stand between her and the chance to save the children who would otherwise be dragged into the same darkness she had escaped?

Could he?

Jenggala could finally name the feelings in his old, draconic heart.

And the woman he had only just realized he loved was watching him with eyes that held no regret. Only resolve.

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