The Dragon King's Substitute Bride (Morgan and Tsuneo) novel Chapter 47

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Morgan 

There was a raw honesty in his voice, a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. It was clear how much he missed her, how deeply her absence still affected him. My heart ached for him, for the loss he’d suffered. But amidst the sadness, there was also a warmth in his tone, a tenderness that spoke volumes about their bond. 

“Tell me more about her,” I found myself whispering, compelled by the glimpse into his past. “What was she like?” 

He turned to me, his gaze meeting mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. For a moment, he seemed to search my eyes, searching for something I couldn’t quite decipher. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that held the promise of stories yet to be told. 

“There’s so much to tell,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet fondness. “Where would you like to begin?” 

“Maybe start with the first time you remember feeling connected to this garden,” I suggested, leaning back against the rough bark of the oak tree. 

The corners of Tsuneo’s eyes crinkled slightly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

“I suppose I was quite small then,” he began, his voice taking on a reminiscent tone. “Barely taller than the roses. I remember chasing a particularly plump bumblebee, its wings buzzing angrily as it dodged my clumsy attempts. It led me on a merry chase, deeper and deeper into the garden, until I finally stumbled upon Mom, sitting beneath this very tree.” 

He gestured towards the sprawling oak above us, its branches heavy with leaves filtering the last rays of sunlight. “She was humming a tune, her eyes closed, a peaceful smile gracing her lips. The moment I saw her, a feeling of… belonging washed over me. It was as if this garden, this place, held all the love and warmth she had to offer.” 

He paused, his gaze drifting back to the vibrant blooms. “She scooped me up in her arms then,” he continued, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “And together, we explored the garden. She taught me the names of the flowers, the secrets whispered by the wind, the language of the buzzing bees. This garden became our haven, a place where we could be ourselves, just mother and son.” 

I listened intently, captivated by his story. The image of a young Tsuneo, full of childish wonder, exploring the garden with his mother, painted a touching picture. “It sounds like a truly special place for both of you,” I said softly, my voice filled with empathy. 

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He nodded, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. “It was. She taught me so much here, not 

just about the garden, but about life, about love, about loss.” He fell silent again, the weight of the past seeming to settle between us. 

Taking a deep breath, I broke the silence. “Was she… was she also a dragon?” I asked hesitantly, the question that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally escaping my lips. 

A smile, tinged with a hint of sadness, touched his lips. “No, she wasn’t. She was… a different type 

of spirit.” 

I frowned at the way he didn’t give details, but I didn’t push. 

“She was the first person to see me in my true form, and she loved me all the same.” 

His words hung in the air, a testament to the extraordinary bond he shared with his mother. A lump formed in my throat, a mix of emotions swirling within me sadness for his loss, admiration for his mother’s acceptance, and a flicker of something new, a tentative hope for the future we could be building together. 

When the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking display of pinks and oranges, we finished our meal. A comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that wasn’t awkward, but rather a continuation of the connection we had forged through shared 

stories and stolen moments. 

Tsuneo rose to his feet, extending a hand towards me. “Care for a stroll, Morgan?” he asked, his voice laced with a newfound warmth. 

I took his hand, a thrill shooting through me at the simple contact. “I’d like that very much,” 1 replied, my voice barely above a whisper. 

We walked hand–in–hand along a winding path that snaked through the heart of the garden. The air grew cooler, but the scent of wildflowers intensified, a sweet perfume that filled my senses. Ast we walked, Tsuneo pointed out various plants and flowers, their names tripping off his tongue with surprising ease. 

He knelt down suddenly, his hand brushing against a cluster of delicate bluebells. With a gentle touch, he plucked two, their color a perfect match for his sapphire eyes. He stood up, offering 

them to me. 

“For you,” he said, his voice husky. 

My heart skipped a beat. Taking the flowers, I brought them to my nose, inhaling their sweet fragrance. “They’re beautiful,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. 

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A smile, hesitant yet genuine, played on his lips. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, a 

so intimate it sent shivers down my spine. 

gesture 

“There’s something else I want to show you,” he said, his gaze flickering towards a hidden corner of the garden.