Leon awoke from a deep exhaustion.
Warm sunlight poured in through the window, leaving no hint of the raging storm from the night before.
Beneath him was a soft but completely disheveled bed.
No.
Disheveled wasn’t enough to describe this bed.
The phrase “utter chaos” seemed more appropriate.
He raised a hand to rub his throbbing temples, but even that simple motion made his arm joints emit a cracking sound.
This was followed by an almost explosive pain.
“Hiss—”
Leon suppressed a groan, biting his lip as he tried to recall what had happened the previous night.
He remembered that before losing consciousness, Roswitha had approached him to ask about the Black Dragon Bolus.
Then the dragoness had said that his human body couldn’t handle the Dragon Clan’s medicine.
And Leon, being rash, had downed the entire dose.
What happened after that...
There was nothing.
His memory had... gaps.
Rustle—
The sound of fabric brushing against skin reached his ears, and Leon turned toward the source of the sound.
Sitting at the desk was a graceful, dignified figure with their back to him.
Silver hair cascaded casually down her back, while the thin strap of her nightgown hung precariously off her shoulder.
“You’re awake.” The silver-haired beauty spoke softly without turning to face him.
Leon pursed his lips and cautiously asked, “Did you just arrive this morning, or... did you never leave last night at all...?”
“I never left.”
Ah.
That pretty much explained why the bed was in its current state.
“Not that I had much choice about staying.”
Roswitha turned around slowly, her long legs elegantly crossed as she rested her chin in her hand, gazing at Leon lazily.
Leon frowned. “This is your Castle. Can’t you go anywhere you want? Why couldn’t you leave?”
Roswitha raised an eyebrow, her expression tinged with faint surprise and a look of inevitability. “You... really don’t remember anything, do you?”
Her tone suggested she had been expecting this.
“Remember... what?”
Roswitha chuckled softly and picked up a plate of pastries from the desk, which she placed on the bedside table next to Leon.
“Anna brought these over this morning. Eat.”
“What is it?”
“Cream puffs. Never had them before?”
“I’ve had them. I just didn’t expect that your Dragon Clan eats this sort of thing.”
“Hmph, I don’t normally eat them. I just thought... maybe these might jog your memory about last night.”
Leon blinked, confused.
How were a few cream puffs supposed to trigger any memories?
Was this dragoness planning some new trick?
Suspicious, Leon shook his head. “I’m not hungry. And I don’t even want to remember what happened last night...”
“You can’t afford not to, Dragon Slayer.”
With that, Roswitha picked up a cream puff, brought it to her lips, and took a bite.
Thick, luscious cream oozed from the pastry, trailing down the corner of Roswitha’s mouth.
She reached up to lazily wipe it away.
But she didn’t quite clean it all off.
The remaining cream slid down the flawless line of her jaw, only to drip, one bead at a time, onto the Dragon Mark on her chest.
Leon stared, dumbfounded, at the display.
What... what was this?
The allure of a dragoness?
What kind of morning “performance” was this supposed to be?
Did she truly think that he, an experienced and battle-hardened Dragon Slayer, could be undone by such petty seduction?
Ha.
Immature!—
Two seconds later.
Wait.
Suddenly, flashes of fragmented images burst into Leon’s mind, like broken shards of memory. There were many of them, though they were disjointed and incomplete.
Roswitha’s lips and the cream on her chest, her struggling as she resisted, their union amid the intensified storm...
And Roswitha’s exhaustion overtaking her, only for Leon to gently hold her, coaxing her to go again... and again... and again, over and over...
“Oh...”
Leon collapsed, running both hands through his hair, gripping at it as though physically overwhelmed.
“N!!O!!! Uh—”
Before he could shout, Roswitha stuffed the half-eaten cream puff into his mouth.
The pastry’s cream carried not just its rich flavor but a faint trace of Roswitha’s lips.
“I haven’t screamed. What are *you* yelling about?” Roswitha said with faint disdain.
Leon bit into the cream puff twice before hastily putting it back onto the plate. In a flustered tone, he stammered, “W-what exactly... did we do last night?”
Stretching her arms, Roswitha surveyed the chaotic state of the room and the bed.
“We did everything we should have. Oh, and by the way, it was *you* who begged me for it.”
Pausing, she corrected herself. “Actually, no, you coaxed me into it. Hmm... wait, still not quite right...”
She frowned thoughtfully, one hand on her chin as she searched for the right wording.
A moment later, a look of understanding dawned on her face. “Oh~~ I should say, you tricked me. Coaxing and deceiving.”
Leon glanced at the room, which was an even bigger mess than the bed, and could roughly guess how “intense” last night had been.
He swallowed hard. “I... I would never have coaxed you into doing something like that...”
Crossing her arms, Roswitha deadpanned as she began mimicking Leon’s voice from the night before.
“Darling... just one more time, okay?”
“Honey, I’m really struggling here. Please, help me out one more time. Just this once—just this once.”
“Do you need to use the bathroom? If not, let’s just go one last time, I promise—this is really, truly the last time.”
“Sweetheart, you—”
“Alright, stop, stop, stop!” Leon raised a hand to cut her off. “You didn’t just make all that up, did you?”
“I have evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“Well, most of the evidence has already been cleaned up, but...”
Roswitha stepped to the bed and showed Leon her neck, arms, and chest.
They were all marked with visible hickeys.
Then, lifting one foot onto the bed, she pulled her skirt up to reveal her thigh. It, too, was covered with bite marks and love marks.
“There are more above and deeper in. Do you want to see them?”
“Absolutely not.” Leon waved his hands in refusal.
With a cold snort, Roswitha raised her tail, bringing it in front of Leon.
“There are bite marks all over my tail as well. I told you it drags on the ground and isn’t clean, but you still bit it. Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if you have some strange obsession with my tail.”
And she wasn’t done.
Roswitha turned around, lifting her cascading silver hair to reveal her bare back.
On that snowy-white, tender canvas were streaks of red love marks—clear evidence of the prior night’s fervor.
It was hard to imagine just how fiercely Leon had gone at it the night before.
The potency of the Black Dragon Bolus was... astonishing, to say the least.
Yet this realization also brought Leon clarity.
He’d crafted the Black Dragon Bolus to restore his body’s strength, so he could finally stand on equal footing with Roswitha—though the process seemed to have gone slightly off course.
With this in mind, Leon adjusted his attitude, a smug air about him as he said, “I admit I might’ve gone a bit overboard last night. Did I hurt you?”
Roswitha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable as she watched him flaunt his arrogance, quickly discerning his intentions.
“Not too much,” she replied coolly.
“Come on, how could there be no consequences after this? Roswitha Melkevi, my lady, I offer you my sincerest apologies for unintentionally revealing my true strength.”
Leon put on a theatrical display of remorse, only to abruptly shift his demeanor. “Now, you must surely realize how strong I really am, don’t you?”
Still wearing a self-satisfied grin, he continued to gloat.
Roswitha narrowed her eyes, unfolding her arms as she took a step closer to him.
Leon’s grin faltered slightly, and he instinctively leaned back.
But it wasn’t enough to escape; Roswitha seized his jaw, tilting his face upward to meet her gaze.
Her silver dragon eyes shimmered, brimming with allure and a sultry charm.
“Oh, without a doubt. Last night’s performance exceeded my expectations, Dragon Slayer. I just hope you can maintain this level of... dedication in the future.”
Leon: ......
What the hell?! When did I become part of the service industry?!
