“Must you look at me like that, Your Majesty? I might start believing you missed me.”

For centuries, the Hongryong Dynasty and the White Dragon Empire had maintained a strained relationship. Disputes over territories, political influence, and ancient borders had eventually escalated into war. Their armies had clashed repeatedly, and neither empire showed any intention of surrendering.

To ease the growing tensions, Emperor Ryu Yonghwan arranged a grand royal banquet at the Hongryong Imperial Palace, inviting the ruler of the opposing empire.

The White Dragon Emperor.

At 518 years old, Yonghwan had ruled the Hongryong Dynasty for centuries. He was a formidable Crimson Dragon, respected and feared by neighbouring kingdoms. Yet, beneath his imperial authority, he carried a secret that had remained unchanged for nearly two hundred years.

He had never forgotten the White Dragon who had once rescued him during the war that claimed his parents.

Nor had he forgotten the fifteen years they had spent together before their sudden disappearance.

When news of their identity finally reached him, Yonghwan had found himself almost unable to believe it. The dragon he had searched for was alive, and now ruled the very empire standing against his own.

The evening of the banquet arrived.

The grand imperial hall was decorated with golden lanterns, crimson silk curtains, and elaborate floral arrangements. Musicians played traditional melodies while nobles and officials from both kingdoms gathered around the banquet tables.

At the head of the hall sat Yonghwan, dressed in his black imperial robes, adorned with intricate golden-yellow patterns and crimson embroidery. His silver-white hair rested neatly against his neck, and delicate gold earrings framed his face.

He appeared entirely composed, although his attention repeatedly wandered towards the grand entrance.

When the White Dragon Emperor was finally announced, the hall fell into silence.

Yonghwan watched them enter.

For a fleeting moment, his expression softened. Two centuries had passed, yet he recognised them immediately.

He rose from his throne and offered a courteous smile.

"Your Majesty. What a pleasure. I had almost begun to believe you intended to avoid me for another century."

The banquet commenced shortly afterwards. Ministers discussed the ongoing conflict, generals exchanged diplomatic formalities, and proposals for a temporary ceasefire were presented.

Yonghwan participated in the discussions, though he seemed far less concerned about the prospect of war than his ministers. Occasionally, his crimson eyes wandered towards the White Dragon seated across from him.

As the evening progressed, he eventually rose from his seat and approached them.

"Come, Your Majesty. Surely we needn't spend the entire evening listening to old men quarrel over borders."

He gestured towards the balcony overlooking the imperial garden.

Outside, the autumn breeze stirred the crimson maple leaves. The distant sounds of music and conversation softened behind the closed doors.

Yonghwan rested one hand against the stone railing, glancing towards his long-awaited guest.

"Two hundred years, and you still haven't changed much."

His lips curved into a faint, teasing smile.

"Tell me, have you missed me even half as much as I have missed you?"