The Dragon Lord's Aide Wants to Quit [BL] Chapter 301: Everything Was Perfectly Fine

Hmm.

It was not as bad as he had thought.

For a venue that was about to witness the first legal human marriage between two actual dragons who technically didn’t need to abide by such practices at all, the place could be considered acceptable.

From the outside, the building looked modest. Then again, as soone who had been intensely fixated on the opening and closing of a single door for most of the day, the golden dragon lord had not exactly afforded himself the chance to appreciate much else.

Now, however, with a different kind of calm settling over him, the kind that ca from knowing they were already here and about to get married, Kael finally had the interest to look around.

The ceiling rose high overhead, supported by clean lines and pale stone pillars that gave the hall an airy, almost ceremonial feel. Soft light spilled down from recessed fixtures, warm rather than harsh, reflecting off polished floors that glead without being blinding.

Mn.

It looked balanced.

The place could definitely use a bit more gold. Or perhaps a great deal more. But considering the decorations he had seen inside the café and the state of his mate’s apartnt, it could at least be said to look reasonably balanced.

More importantly, it looked like it would hold up just fine until he and his twig were rightfully married.

That was the most important part.

Thus prepared, Kael, the ever-ready dragon lord, was fully prepared to get married, only to realize that there were apparently many other things that needed to happen first before they could officially beco husbands.

For dragons, marriage was simple.

You stood around a runic circle. You exchanged blood. You made an everlasting pact if and when possible.

Provided there was blood, the mating ritual could begin.

But for humans, what mattered were docunts.

And little cards.

Hmm.

Kael briefly wondered what kind of sorcery was involved in these pieces of paper and how they were ant to hold anyone accountable for anything at all. But despite having such concerns, he voiced none of it. After all, he and his twig were the ones trying to get sothing out of this office.

From what Lawrence Hale had ntioned several tis during his magnanimous attempts at keeping the Transportation Office intact, humans had inexplicable processes that likely wouldn’t make sense to magical beings especially when none of them were magically binding. Employees were expected to enforce and follow them. Therefore, to facilitate progress, it was better to hold his tongue.

While the MBE enforced a similar form of registration, it was one that undeniably carried weight. Offenders did not simply face penalties on paper. Powerful magical beings and very real backlash would co after them.

Apparently, it worked differently for humans. Disputes were settled with argunts, fines, or incarceration when the offense was between two humans.

What, exactly, was so frightening about a fragile piece of tal?

Kael had his doubts, but he kept them to himself.

However, was he supposed to keep holding his tongue when the man with the shiny head across the counter started shaking like a leaf after reading the form his mate had spent a good eight minutes and fifty-seven seconds carefully answering?

Riley had taken his ti with those answers. So why did the man look like he deeply regretted reading them?

Then again, why was Riley the one answering these docunts for him in the first place?

Well.

What did Kael know about converting answers into sothing acceptable for human systems?

Had Kael filled it out himself, he would have answered truthfully. His parents were old. Very old. Their birthplaces might as well have been on a mountain, or in his father’s case, sowhere midair.

Yet sohow, Riley knew exactly what to write. What identification to present. What was acceptable and what was not.

And judging by his mate’s calm expression, everything should have been fine.

So why was the man reacting like that?

The answer, unfortunately, was simple.

Because the mont the staff mber laid eyes on the na written on the form, the sa form he had processed thousands of tis before, his brain short-circuited.

Kael Dravaryn.

A na he had once assud was either a parental joke or the result of excessive inspiration.

Then his eyes darted to the next line.

Race: Dragon.

The staff mber’s eyes widened and he was experiencing that kind of sinking feeling that normally would lead to being right.

Unfortunately for him, the procedure demanded verification.

So he checked the identification card.

And that was when even the stones in his kidneys started rattling.

Because printed clearly on the driver’s license was the sa information.

The sa na.

And a photo of a face that practically everyone in Eryndra knew.

Only this ti, it was staring back at him from a perfectly valid piece of human docuntation.

And there was about a ninety-nine percent chance it was actually owned by the actual dragon lord.

The staff mber’s soul quietly left his body.

Now how, exactly, was he supposed to say, Excuse , sir, could you please remove your mask for identity verification without imdiately dying?

His face drained of color as the realization set in, he was the unfortunate person in charge of this.

The staff mber swallowed hard and very briefly considered alerting the rest of the office. Soone needed to know. Soone higher up. Soone sturdier. Soone with a stronger heart and bladder.

The great dragon lord of Eryndra was standing in front of him.

And he was here to get married.

Thankfully, before he could embarrass himself by making a sound sowhere between a squeak and a plea for rcy, the human standing beside the dragon lord turned toward the towering presence with an ease that made absolutely no sense.

"Honey," Riley said calmly, like he was asking for a jacket or a cup of water, "they need to verify our identities. Can you do us a favor and show them your face?"

The staff mber nearly coughed up a lung.

Honey.

The tall figure did not object.

In fact, he complied imdiately.

Kael shifted, then lifted his hand and removed the mask.

And then he leaned closer.

The staff mber’s vision dimd.

Oh no.

But while the poor man was busy fighting for his life and silently apologizing to every ancestor he could think of, the dragon lord was simply concerned. The human in front of him looked like he was having trouble focusing. Perhaps his eyesight was poor. Perhaps he needed to see more clearly.

What if he did not believe it was really him?

What if he thought this was so elaborate glamour?

With only docunts as proof, anyone could technically walk in and claim to be the dragon lord. That would be unacceptable.

So Kael blinked.

And when he opened his eyes again, they were unmistakably slitted.

The staff mber jumped so hard his chair scraped loudly against the floor.

Recognition hit instantly. Along with terror.

"P-please! My lord!" he blurted, voice cracking. "T-the photos! If you can just hand the photos, we can proceed imdiately!"

Ah.

That made sense.

The golden dragon straightened, visibly relieved. He turned slightly toward his mate, posture proud, eyes bright with quiet satisfaction.

See?

Everything was perfectly fine.

__

Riley couldn’t help the slight tremor that ran through him as he tried to keep it together.

As bad as that sounded, he wasn’t shaking out of fear. He was shaking because he felt both guilty and deeply amused by the situation unfolding in front of them.

They needed photos. Simple. Necessary. A basic step in the filing process.

And yet, sohow, a step that should have been so easy was turning out to be this complicated.

The photographer had taken pictures for countless influential figures over the years. Officials. Executives. Celebrities. People who arrived without photos and expected miracles. He prided himself on being a professional through and through.

But this was different.

This was the first ti he had ever stood across from soone who could, quite literally, reduce him to ash for taking a bad photo.

That was the problem.

Not the face. If anything, the dragon lord was even more striking in person than the articles claid. The sharp lines. The presence. The sheer weight of him.

The problem was his expression.

Every ti the photographer lifted the cara, the man looked like he was assessing whether the lens was a threat.

Cold. Severe. Murderous.

If that photo ended up on a marriage license, would the photographer survive long enough to see tomorrow?

His hands shook.

His eyes stung.

He was on the verge of tears.

Then, suddenly, the tension shifted.

The man standing beside the dragon lord stepped forward.

"If possible," Riley said gently, voice calm and reassuring, "could you just take a set of photos in succession? We will pay for all of them."

The photographer blinked.

"Huh?"

That was easy enough. More than easy. He nodded quickly, grateful for the lifeline.

"All right," he said. "I can do that."

He lifted the cara again.

And that was when the impossible happened.

The shorter man reached up, hands sliding naturally to the dragon lord’s collar.

"!"

The photographer behind the lens held his breath only to see the shorter man pulling an actual dragon in for a kiss.

"!!!"

The photographer almost gasped.

But his finger pressed the shutter instinctively.

Once. Twice. Three tis.

The dragon lord stiffened for only a fraction of a second before lting into it, one hand settling at his partner’s waist with instinctive certainty.

The room felt warr.

The photographer lowered the cara slowly, heart pounding.

In his entire career, he had never taken a marriage license photo like that.

And he was absolutely certain he never would again.