If family dinners like this happened every day, Leon estimated that his lifespan would be shortened by at least thirty years.

Dinner is supposed to be the best time of the day for family members to share their thoughts and bond.

But here, it had become a tool Roswitha used to torture him.

What’s more, now Noa—the little ice dragon girl who was far too mature for her age—had joined in. Leon was now outnumbered, one against two.

How was he supposed to win this battle?!

He was calculating just how he could persuade Muen to abandon her idea when he suddenly heard Noa speak up:

“No, Muen.”

Muen pouted, looking at her older sister. “Why not?”

“I want to enroll in the young dragons' department at Saint Hiss Academy.”

As she spoke, Noa turned to Roswitha, seeking her opinion.

Roswitha was slightly surprised by her eldest daughter’s proposal.

She knew Noa was precocious and had decent magical talent.

But typically, dragons who enrolled in the young dragons’ department were around four or five years old.

Noa was only one year and two months old. In terms of stature, she was far smaller than a four or five-year-old dragon.

Roswitha put down her knife and fork, raising her eyes to look at her eldest daughter seriously.

“Why are you so eager to enroll?”

“Because I want to defeat more—”

“More what?”

“Dragon Slayers.”

“Pfft—cough, cough...cough!”

Just as Leon tried to sip his water to calm his nerves, he choked at the words that came out of his daughter’s mouth.

What a filial little girl indeed.

Noa gave Leon a disgusted look. “Mind your table manners.”

Well, aren’t you the picture of a precocious little adult.

Using his napkin, Leon wiped his mouth. “Dragon Slayers are very formidable. Daddy's worried you might get hurt.”

“You don’t grow without getting hurt.”

Right, now that was a stubborn little donkey.

Leon wanted to say something more, but Roswitha interjected:

“I think Noa’s idea is pretty good. The sooner she learns, the sooner she can combat Dragon Slayers. Honestly, I think Dragon Slayers are just a bunch of idiots. They’re nothing special. They might not even manage to drink a glass of water without choking—right, Leon?”

“...”

“Well, it looks like your father doesn’t have any objections.”

Roswitha smiled. “Saint Hiss Academy holds entrance exams twice a year. The next one is a month from now. In the meantime, we’ll need to make preparations.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow. First, let’s eat.”

The two little ones lowered their heads and dug into their meals.

Roswitha shifted her gaze to the despondent-looking Leon. Feigning concern, she asked:

“Why aren’t you eating, Leon? Is my cooking not good enough?”

“It’s great… It’s delicious...”

“Well, if it’s delicious, then eat more. You’ll need your strength for... other things.”

The implications behind her “other things” were unmistakable.

Leon couldn't help but feel a chill run down his crotch.

Why did this whole setup feel strangely like fattening up turkeys for Thanksgiving, only to carve them up at the feast?

He looked down at the steak on his plate, unconsciously tightening his grip on his knife and fork.

He could feel Roswitha’s disdain and contempt directed at him.

In her eyes, he was no longer the brave and valiant Dragon Slayer who had been a worthy adversary two years ago.

Perhaps, in Roswitha’s view, Leon was now merely a babysitter, a tool to be at her beck and call, a plaything for venting her frustrations.

She only spared his life because she wanted to provide her children with a sense of a father’s love.

Leon had once said that she could strip away his pride and dignity, but she could never kill his spirit.

Was this just bravado from a Dragon Slayer who had been stripped of his persona?

No...

It wasn’t.

He wouldn't let Roswitha take away anything more from him.

Silently, he shredded the steak on his plate into tiny pieces.

The flickering ember within him seemed to reignite once more.

---

One hour later.

The family dinner had concluded.

Noa had taken Muen back to their room, and Leon had taken the initiative to volunteer to do the dishes.

Roswitha suggested leaving such chores to the servants.

But Leon said that couples doing post-meal clean-up together was what gave a family its warmth.

Roswitha offered no rebuttal. She simply tied on an apron and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Now, the room was left with just the two of them.

The clear sound of running water came from the faucet as Roswitha stood at the sink, carefully scrubbing each plate.

“Hey, when are you actually going to help? Didn’t you say we’d do this togeth—ah...”

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly felt a searing heat in her chest.

Her nerves began to thrum in sync with her heightened sensitivity.

She slightly pulled open her neckline and saw that the Dragon Mark on her chest was glowing a dark purple.

“Leon... you—”

She wanted to rush out and ask what Leon was up to this time.

But just as she turned, the sensation from the Dragon Mark flared even more intensely.

Her legs gave out, and she toppled forward.

Luckily, she managed to catch herself on the doorframe. Otherwise, she would’ve collapsed on the spot.

Even so, the intensity of the Dragon Mark reaction was still gnawing at her body and eroding her rationality.

Her vision blurred, her throat went dry, and an increasing primal need for “mating” surged within her.

She swallowed hard, unable to resist the all-encompassing resonance of the Dragon Mark. She slid down to the ground, her breaths coming in labored gasps.

Thud—thud—

Footsteps echoed in front of her.

Roswitha looked up.

It was Leon.

The icy moonlight spilled in through the window, casting an ethereal glow on Leon’s profile.

There was little expression on his face, as he looked down at her in silence.

If one were observant, though, they might notice the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Clearly, he was also fighting against the overwhelming effect of the Dragon Mark resonance.

“What… what are you going to do…” Roswitha asked haltingly.

At this moment, two extreme impulses clashed in her mind: on one hand was her wariness toward the man before her, and on the other, an instinctive desire to lose herself in passionate intimacy with him.

She understood that Leon was experiencing the same overwhelming drive she was.

“Roswitha, two years ago in the dungeon, I said something to you. Do you still remember it?”

Leon slowly crouched down until his gaze was level with Roswitha’s.

He reached out, gently lifting her chin. His eyes met hers, flushed red and hazed with an undeniable sensual tension.

“Never, under any circumstances, should you be left alone with the strongest, most rigorously trained Dragon Slayer.”

Roswitha, meeting his harsh gaze, chuckled faintly.

“Hah... Don’t kid yourself, Leon. You think you can exploit the Dragon Mark’s reaction to weaken me and then use that chance to escape? Clever thought, but I’ll tell you right now—it’s impossible.”

“The Dragon Mark affects the both of us equally. And considering you’ve just awoken from a two-year coma, your stamina is nowhere near recovered. So even if I weaken, there’s simply no way—”

Leon cut her off. “Who said I was trying to escape?”

“W-What…”

He leaned in ever so slightly closer and scooped the weakened Roswitha into his arms.

The silver-haired queen slumped in the arms of her mortal foe, disbelief written across her face.

“Leon, what are you doing?! What are you planning?!”

“Yes, it’s true that I’ve only just woken up and my stamina hasn’t fully recovered. But… these past several days, it’s been enough. Just enough.”

As he spoke, Leon carried her toward the hallway.

“Enough… Enough for what? Leon, answer me. Enough for what?!”

At the entrance, Leon placed Roswitha on the floor, positioning her head near the door and her tail nearer to himself.

Then, he crouched down and grabbed hold of her tail.

“Don’t. Leon—”

When affected by the Dragon Mark’s resonance, the tail of a dragon became an intensely sensitive spot.

A mere touch had an immediate and profound effect on their nervous system.

At that moment, Roswitha was like a kitten helplessly immobilized by the scruff of her neck, her body sprawled limply on the ground.

“Let go of my tail… Leon…”

Roswitha commanded him with the last shreds of her consciousness, her voice trembling. “If you don’t… when this night is over… I swear… I’ll kill you…”

“That’s something for after tonight, Roswitha. Besides, you and I both know I’ve never been afraid of death.”

With that, Leon tightened his grip.

A jolt traveled from the tip of Roswitha’s tail, spreading instantly through every inch of her body.

Her head tilted back slightly as she fought to suppress the storm surging within her.

“The Dragon Clan thirsts for conquest, for the destruction of everything, to gain absolute control.”

“You’re no different, Roswitha.”

“From the moment I woke, you stomped on my dignity and considered me your diversion, your pastime.”

“Well then, how about tonight… we reverse those roles, hmm?”

“Have you ever been conquered? Have you ever been controlled, Roswitha?”

“Perhaps not. But soon, you’ll know what that feels like.”

Leon pinned her tail to the ground beneath his knee. Leaning closer, he gripped her neck with one hand while gently brushing her hair back with the other.

He drew so near that his breath kissed her flushed cheeks.

“Also, keep it down, Your Majesty.”

"Don't make a sound?"

"Yes, because—"

Knock, knock, knock—

"Your Majesty, we've come to clear the dining table. May we come in now?"

Outside the door, the voices of the maids echoed.

Roswitha's pupils trembled. Just as she was about to call for help, Leon grabbed her hair and forced her head back.

"If you dare to scream, I won't hesitate to open the door for them. When that happens, they'll see what their usually lofty queen has become. Frankly, I don't care at all. But how about you, Roswitha? Do you care?"

Roswitha gritted her teeth and growled, "Leon... you bastard!"

"Shh~ Keep it down. Don't let them hear, okay~"

"Your Majesty? Are you in there? Is something wrong?" the maids asked once again.

"Say it: you're occupied at the moment and that they should come back tomorrow morning to clean up."

Roswitha closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them. Adjusting her tone, she replied:

"I'm fine. Come and clean up tomorrow morning."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

The footsteps faded away.

Leon chuckled in satisfaction.

"Well, then, let's begin, my dear... wife."