Chapter 35: Confiscated, Consumed, Confused

Who knew he’d underestimated the appetite of dragons?

Had they been starving for centuries? Or was the food he made actually good?

Riley had no clue. Mostly because the cook didn’t even get to taste his own work.

The moment he mentioned the food count was off, Orien’s curiosity practically lit the room on fire.

“You’re telling me you lost it? Before you even got here?” the dragon boy snapped, his golden eyes narrowing like he’d just caught a servant stealing.

“Excuse me, my lord,” Riley huffed. “I didn’t lose it. I was stopped by a toll man named Lord Kael Dravaryn, who insisted on inspecting the goods for poison. So yes, technically, I passed customs.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means there were four burgers. I was going to eat with you while teaching you how to use the game devices I brought. But thanks to that glowing customs officer, only two made it through.” Riley sighed. “And lucky for us, he didn’t touch the fries. For drinks, we’re on water until I figure out what won’t melt your internal organs.”

Before he could finish, a claw slapped down on the preservation box with a weight that said enough talking.

“I’ll open it,” Orien announced from his lazy sprawl, still in his dragon form and radiating judgment.

Riley paused. If he hadn’t gotten used to Kael’s dragon form, this might have been terrifying. As it stood now, Orien just looked like a smug, oversized chick, albeit one with razor-sharp talons and eyes that flashed red every time his mood dropped—which was often. Like all the time.

He was definitely majestic, but in the same way a fluffy grenade might be majestic.

Riley slid the box forward, doing his best to preserve his fingers.

Orien pried the lid open with his claw.

And froze.

Completely. Like a statue.

Riley wasn’t sure what was happening when Orien suddenly stopped mid-motion, one claw frozen above the food box like he’d been hit by divine revelation.

Naturally, Riley froze too.

You didn’t move around dragons when they were in thinking mode. Especially not when they were armed with claws the size of your face.

Was it poisonous? Too hot? Did dragons have issues with pickles? Should he have brought dipping sauce?

Orien wasn’t thinking about Riley, though. No, far from it. He was zeroed in on the smell wafting up from the box. It hit his senses like a sneak attack.

What was that?

It wasn’t magic. Or smoke. Or sulfur.

Uncle already checked it… so it couldn’t be poison, right?

Before Riley could warn him, Orien stabbed the burger.

Wrapper and all.

“Wait—!”

Too late.

Orien popped the entire thing into his mouth.

And paused.

Tingling.

The good kind.

Wait. Why did that… taste interesting?

His brain flickered on and off like faulty lighting. He chewed once. That was all that was possible. But even then, the taste exploded. Salty, juicy, warm. His sensitive dragon tongue practically wept with sensation.

What was that?! What was that?!

And—wait. Where did it go?

Orien blinked. Realizing, slowly, that it had just… vanished. Well, if he’d ask anyone else, they’d say straight down his throat. Wrapper included.

“?!!”

The dragon blinked.

Fog burst from his nose in a thick, surprised huff. The heat shift made Riley cough and fan his face as the room filled with haze.

Then—through the fog—came Orien. Now in his human form, furiously patting at his jacket like he’d misplaced a scroll.

“Where is it?!”

Riley squinted through the mist. “Where’s what?”

“The round thing!” Orien snapped, still looking around like the burger had simply slipped off the plane of existence.

“…You mean the burger?”

“Yes!” Orien’s brows knitted like he was personally insulted by the laws of digestion. “Where is it?!”

Riley blinked. “You ate it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You 100% did.”

“I did not! I barely tasted it! It disappeared!”

“That’s what eating is.”

“I didn’t agree to that!”

Riley stared at him, torn between panic and laughter. “My lord… you stabbed it. Whole. And just… tossed it in.”

Riley was not sure if Orien was sick, or if he was sick, or if they were both nuts, because clearly he had stabbed it with the wrapper on and ate it in one go…and now this brat was looking for it from him like he could take it out from his throat?!

“I was investigating it!”

“You inhaled it.”

“It was fast. That doesn’t count!”

Riley pinched the bridge of his nose. “Also, maybe next time, you’d want to consider unwrapping it first?”

Orien stopped. His eyes widened.

“What.”

“You ate the wrapper.”

There was a pause.

“You didn’t tell me not to.”

“I didn’t think I had to!”

Orien looked horrified. “So that’s it? It’s gone?”

“Well… yes. That’s generally how food works.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Orien snapped. “I barely even tasted it.”

Riley glanced at the box, then sighed.

At this rate, he’d have to make another one for himself—maybe tomorrow, maybe next year—whenever he finally escaped this gilded dragon daycare.

Because, to be honest, anything left in that box was already halfway claimed by the walking stomach.

In the end, he gestured towards the open box and pointed to the lone remaining burger. “But there’s one more. And fries.”

The young dragon huffed, but the moment he realized Riley wasn’t joking, his posture straightened. Orien practically threw himself into the nearest seat, back straight, hands ready.

Determined.

He was going to win this round.

Riley passed him the wrapped burger. “You can open it partway, like this,” he demonstrated, peeling the top half back, “so your hands stay clean.”

“I knew that,” Orien muttered, already fumbling with the paper.

“Right.”

Riley turned to grab the water—only to freeze mid-pour as he heard the first bite.

Soft crunch of lettuce. Slight squish of tomato. That audible sigh of butter-kissed bun meeting teeth.

Then silence.

Complete. Still. Reverent.

Riley turned slowly.

Orien had frozen.

Not like before, when he was overwhelmed. This time, it was sacred stillness.

He looked down at the half-bitten burger like he had just unlocked the first stage of some ancient treasure trial.

“…Hngh.”

It wasn’t quite a grunt. Not quite a sigh. But it had feeling.

Riley raised a brow. “You good?”

Orien didn’t answer. His brows were furrowed, lips still pressed together, chewing slowly like he was trying to commit every sensation to memory.

“Did you finally taste it?”

“No,” Orien said far too quickly. “It’s mediocre. Slightly better than expected. But not impressive.”

Sure. And that was why he was holding the burger like it was a family heirloom.

Riley sat across from him and pushed over the fries. “For your research.”

“…Fine.”

Orien picked one up with great hesitation. Then ate it.

One fry. Two. Then five more disappeared.

He didn’t even blink.

“Still mediocre?” Riley asked.

“Terribly. I may need another sample.”

“Tragic.”

They sat in silence for a bit, the only sound being the slow, steady crunch of fries disappearing from the box.

Riley watched him eat and shook his head. This was surreal.

He was watching a miniature Kael eat his food. With the same weird silence. The same judgmental stare. The same hidden, grudging approval.

At this rate, Riley was going to need a new burger stash.

And possibly a therapist.

Orien finally wiped his hands and said, “It was edible.”

“High praise.”

“I still don’t understand the fascination humans have with this.”

“You ate it with the wrapper the first time. I don’t think your opinion counts.”

“…That was your fault.”

“Sure it was.”

Orien looked at the empty plate, then gave Riley a suspicious side-eye. “This wasn’t enchanted, was it?”

“You think I used a love spell on the food?”

“It’s a reasonable concern.”

“It’s a hamburger.”

Orien huffed and stood. “I’ll allow more food in the future.”

“Oh, thank you for permitting that.”

“But next time, prepare two.”

Riley blinked. “You mean four?”

“No,” Orien said, dead serious. “Two. Two boxes for me.”

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