Training the Yandere Villain into a Henpecked Husband

When his wife was taken to his castle, Cilestras was quite excited. Finally, finally, he had a wife. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time and spent years reading books about human companionship.

Romance, one of his minions had said. He didn't quite understand, but he thought that more knowledge would never hurt.

From those letters and words, he had summarized that a husband must quickly establish dominance over his wife, so that their marriage could last long. A husband must take charge and protect his wife to show that he was capable, which was no different from what he was already doing to those under his dominion.

Being a husband was like being a dragon, he thought, and since he was already the most powerful dragon, he should also be the most powerful husband.

Cilestras walked with brisk steps, ready to implement what he had learned. His wife's room, the newly built Queen's chambers, was just a teleportation spell away, but he still walked in his human form to greet his wife in a rare sense of ceremony. That was also something he had learned from those bound pages.

When he arrived at his Queen's chambers, he stood silently by the door, waiting for his wife to greet him first as a wife should.

But Cilestras couldn't wait even for a second, for there was that unmistakable metallic scent emanating from his wife's bed.

He walked closer, his steps heavier, and even then his wife's figure remained still. He lit all the magic light stones embedded on the wall and ceiling with a single thought.

When his wife's figure was illuminated, the great Black Dragon was shocked. His Dragon Heart almost stopped beating.

His wife, whom he expected to be alive and breathing, lay on the bed with a pool of blood beneath him. His face, so beautiful, was now disfigured with a hideous wound on his head.

Cilestras quickly cast a healing spell on his wife. The spell worked because his wife's blood had stopped flowing, but only partly because the man did not rouse.

He tried again and again, using all the spells he knew. By the time he was exhausted, the wound on his wife's head had healed without a scar. Still, the beauty was asleep.

Humans are so fragile, he thought. They're like a candle flame. A little whoosh, and they're gone.

For the first time, Cilestras felt something new. Something he could not name but something he would come to be familiar with in the future: fear.

The Black Dragon did not know what to do with this new feeling, so he resorted to what was familiar. Cilestras became angry.

This was not what he was promised. He had no need for a dead companion.

The walls started shaking, the air around him solidifying. Dark clouds formed in the sky, bringing forth thunder and lightning. The winds outside howled, sounding like maidens screaming.

His magical attendant came rushing, arriving unimpeded from the still-open door.

"My liege," the dark elf said, "you must calm down."

Cilestras ignored him. The whole castle started shaking as well, dust falling from the ceiling, and magical light stones going out.

The dark elf had fallen, unable to stand still amid the strong vibrations. Breiroc crawled to the bed, clinging to one of the bedposts. He looked in horror as the walls, fortified by magic, started splitting.

"My liege," he said again, louder this time, "I implore you. Everyone will die."

Still, Cilestras ignored him. His eyes had never left the sleeping figure on the bed.

Breiroc followed his line of sight, noticing that everywhere was a mess except for the bed. The silken sheets were still white and pristine, unaffected by the chaos.

"T-the Queen—" Breiroc started to say, but stopped, almost being blown away by the powerful aura the Black Dragon released. He clung to the bedpost tightly, shouting, "The Queen will be hurt. You must stop!"

Cilestras stopped. The ground was still, the sky was clear, and everything was silent.

"If he does not wake," Cilestras threatened, "then there is no need for anyone else to do so."

–

Cilestras was waiting outside the Queen's chambers. His magical attendant had brought a human healer as instructed and was now in the process of healing his wife.

He didn't understand why he had to wait outside—What sort of healing could not be done in his presence?—but he had more pressing matters to be concerned about.

As promised, he did not use his magic to peek or eavesdrop. Yet he is tempted to do so.

As a dragon who had lived for a long, long time, Cilestras should have nothing but patience. It was the opposite.

Cilestras was feeling another new emotion, another one he could not name. It was worse than impatience, mixed with the earlier emotion he felt when he saw his wife's bloody body.

Cilestras did not like it one bit.

Fortunately, he did not need to wait any longer, because the door was opened by his magical attendant.

Cilestras expected good news and only good news. If he heard anything but good news, he was ready to burn the world to the ground.

His face remained impassive, but Breiroc was still reeling from the magical aftershocks from earlier's outburst, so the dark elf was hesitant in speaking.

Cilestras could not wait anymore, so he strode in. 

On the bed, he saw it—his wife. Alive and breathing, yes, awake. So beautiful, his wife.

"Who are you?" his wife asked.

"Your husband," he heard himself say.

"Then who am I?"

The voice that did not seem to belong to him spoke again. "My wife."

"Then what's my name?"

At that, Cilestras paused. Something was amiss. His wife should have a name; he did not require that he shed his prior human identity.

He looked at Breiroc, signalling the dark elf to explain.

The dark elf then looked at the human healer. The human healer looked at the Queen, but the Queen simply stared back at him with his blue eyes full of innocence.

Left with no help, Serizain had to muster up the courage and explain that the Queen might have lost his memories. He also explained all the information about this afflicted disorder that he had learned from the holy books.

The more Cilestras listened, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows became.

Humans are so fragile, he thought again.

The great Black Dragon did not know that while he was burdened with the fragility of the mortal body, a mechanical voice no one else could hear was having a conversation with his wife.

"Host, why are you pretending to have amnesia?"