In order to give Roswitha a “surprise” the moment she woke up, Leon refused the maids' offers to take care of her.

He had declared that he would stay by her side, without rest, for a full 24 hours.

To the maids, this gesture was nothing short of a deep and unwavering act of love from His Highness toward Her Majesty the Queen!

A wife who had fallen ill and was bedridden;

A husband who wouldn’t leave her side, staying by her bed day and night.

Oh~ my heavens~

Could there be a purer, truer love than this?

Surely, they would grow old with their hair turning white, wouldn’t they?

If Leon knew what the maids were thinking, he probably would have two things to say in response.

First: "You’re overthinking it. I’d rather jump off a cliff than grow old with this dragon."

Second: "Though silver and white are slightly different, they look more or less the same at a glance, don’t they? So, your queen is already white-haired by that logic~"

Well, back to the main point.

Although his primary goal was to wait for Roswitha to wake up, Leon indeed intended to properly take care of her during this time.

Not because he cared about this silly dragon’s health.

He just didn’t want her waking up all sickly and scaring his precious daughters.

Alright then, let’s start by helping her wash her face and clean her body.

The art of “nursing care” wasn’t exactly something they taught at Dragon Slayer Academy.

But one could imagine it was probably similar to giving a donkey a bath, right?

Leon used to bathe his master’s donkey every time he returned home during vacation—he was quite adept at it.

Besides, he figured that cleaning Roswitha’s body would surely be easier than cleaning a donkey's.

Donkeys might kick back at him;

But an unconscious dragoness definitely wouldn’t.

Leon wasted no time getting to it.

With a towel dipped in warm water, he stood by the bedside, bent over slightly, and gently wiped Roswitha’s forehead, the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, and her chin.

Truth be told, she looked far prettier when she was asleep than when she was awake.

She had an absolutely stunning face, one that could topple kingdoms, but most of the time when she was awake, she either looked tired and drowsy or melancholy and downcast.

She rarely smiled and always seemed so serious.

Only occasionally, when talking to Leon about their daughters, would a trace of a gentle smile appear on her face.

“Sigh, you should smile more often—you really are quite beautiful when you smile.”

Mumbling to himself, Leon lifted Roswitha’s hand and began wiping her palm and the back of her hand.

See? He had been right.

Cleaning up a dragon was definitely easier than cleaning up a donkey.

This little dragoness was as docile as could be.

Once he finished her hands, it was time to move on to her body.

Leon peeled back the blanket, just about to start, but as his gaze landed on the delicate figure sprawled on the soft bed, he couldn’t help but swallow hard.

"I-it’s not like I haven’t seen it before. What’s there to be embarrassed about?"

He took a deep breath, trying to pep himself up.

After mentally preparing himself, he leaned down, one hand supporting Roswitha’s back while the other gently slipped the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders.

Her nightgown was light and thin—one gentle tug and the whole thing would come off.

Leon’s face turned red, and though part of him wanted to look, another part of him hesitated.

Damn it.

They were obviously already like an “old married couple”—not in terms of the actual time spent together, but definitely in terms of “frequency”—and yet here he was getting shy over cleaning her body?

Kasmod, get it together.

You’re not afraid to slay dragons, but you’re afraid to bathe one?

He bent down again, feeling the heat from his own breath.

Leon swallowed hard once more, gripping the towel and slowly moving it toward Roswitha’s chest.

What... what a perfect silhouette...

Round and full—neither excessively large nor modestly small—it presented an ideal balance.

With her faint breaths causing her chest to rise and fall, the sight was utterly alluring, dangerously tempting.

Then suddenly!

The Dragon Mark on Roswitha’s chest flashed!

Startled, Leon immediately pulled the blanket back over her, threw the towel aside, and bolted out of the room.

He ran as fast as he could, eventually stopping in the back garden of the Castle, panting heavily as he rested his hands on his knees.

“What the hell—I swear, why’d it have to light up like that?!”

Leon knew exactly what it meant when the Dragon Mark glowed. It wasn’t a signal that Roswitha was waking up.

He vividly remembered what Roswitha had told him when she first engraved the Dragon Mark on him:

"If one of us feels a longing or yearning for the other, the Dragon Mark on the other person will react.”

Leon had once used this little trick to mess with Roswitha during a previous visit from her older sister, Queen Isa of the Red Dragons.

So... the fact that Roswitha’s Dragon Mark had just flashed meant that—

Leon, in his fully conscious and completely sober state, devoid of any potions or charm spells, had...

That kind of thought about Roswitha!

“Blasphemy!”

He slapped himself twice, trying to snap out of it.

At the same time, he silently recited the “Dragon Slayer Code of Three Principles and Three Disgraces”:

“Loyalty to the Empire is an honor; collusion with the Dragon Clan is a disgrace;

Bloodshed on the battlefield is an honor; desertion in battle is a disgrace;

Defending one’s homeland by slaying dragons is an honor; betrayal to the cause is a disgrace.”

After repeating it three times, Leon finally let out a long exhale.

Adjusting his mindset, Leon returned to Roswitha’s room.

A gentle breeze flowed through the window, softly rustling the bed curtains.

The silver-haired beauty lay silently on the bed, serene and stunning—a sight so beautiful that it made one hesitant to intrude.

Leon walked over, his footsteps silent.

Even though he knew she couldn’t hear him at the moment, there was still a strange reluctance to disturb her.

Reaching out, Leon carefully dressed Roswitha back in her nightgown.

After a moment’s hesitation, to be safe, he tugged the neckline of the gown up a bit, covering the Dragon Mark on her chest.

Just in case it happened to flash again.

Otherwise, Leon would start questioning whether his dragon-slaying resolve was starting to waver.

Grabbing the warm towel from earlier, this time, Leon dipped it in more warm water.

He’d clean her hands and feet, but he decided to skip the rest of her body!

This time, he moved to the foot of the bed, gently lifted the blanket, and delicately cradled Roswitha’s left foot as he began wiping it down with great care.

Her feet... were actually rather nice-looking too—

“Stop it, stop it. Don’t go there.”

Leon shook his head, dispelling those stray thoughts.

Once everything was cleaned, he sat down to take a breather.

Swish, swish—

The midday breeze stirred the curtains by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Warm sunlight spilled through the windows, wrapping around them.

Looking at the unconscious Roswitha, Leon clicked his tongue lightly, deciding to find something to occupy his time.

Propping himself up with his knees, he stood leisurely and approached the bed. “You can’t move right now, correct?”

He spoke as he stepped toward Roswitha’s wardrobe.

Opening it, he was greeted by an array of exquisite dresses in various styles, a dazzling sight.

Roswitha’s usual attire leaned toward the conservative—most of her clothing wrapped her up completely, with the shortest skirts barely reaching her knees.

Leon didn’t have any particular fetish when it came to clothing.

But given this rare opportunity to do as he pleased with the she-dragon, he felt it would be a waste not to take advantage of it.

Rummaging through her clothes, he eventually pulled out an unopened pair of...

“Black stockings.”

Leon’s cheeks flushed. “B-black stockings, nice! Black stockings for justice!”

Moreover, the fact that this pair had never been opened indicated Roswitha probably didn’t like wearing such things.

But now, her preferences didn’t matter.

Leon returned to the bedside, unpacked the stockings, and clumsily slid them onto Roswitha’s legs.

Her legs were long, making the process a bit tricky.

But once fitted properly, the thin, sheer black stockings clung to her slender legs, exuding a mysterious allure and undeniable allure.

Leon blushed furiously, swallowing hard again. “What a waste it would’ve been to not put black stockings on these legs.”

Satisfied with his “work,” Leon still felt something was missing.

“The stockings are on, so why stop there? Let’s go all out!”

Returning to the wardrobe, Leon searched again and dug out a slightly tight-fitting black top.

The design of the top was relatively plain, but Leon had some DIY modifications in mind.

From a drawer, he took out a pair of scissors and started hacking away at the fabric.

When Roswitha woke up, he’d just blame it on their daughter Muen.

(Muen: Father, how dare you?!)

After some snipping, Leon stripped Roswitha of her nightgown, deliberately avoiding looking at certain areas, and swiftly replaced it with the altered black top.

Off-the-shoulder, low-cut, bow tie accent, black stockings...

“B-bunny girl!”

However, the look was still incomplete—it was missing one crucial element: a bunny ear headpiece.

Leon figured such an accessory probably didn’t exist in this house.

So, he decided to create it himself!

Sitting at the head of the bed, he gathered Roswitha’s hair and began braiding it into the shape of bunny ears.

Fortunately, Roswitha had an abundance of hair—if it were a regular night owl burning the midnight oil, it might not have been possible.

Finally, the bunny ears were done.

A fully handcrafted Bunny Girl by Leon was officially complete!

No man could possibly resist a life-sized silver dragon doll.

And if they could, it must be because the doll wasn’t dressed as a black-stockinged Bunny Girl yet.

Such an extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime sight couldn’t go undocumented, could it?

This would totally be part of Roswitha’s blackmail material!

Leon remembered that Roswitha’s room had a small family camera; otherwise, some of her life photos wouldn’t be displayed in the living room or by the bed.

After searching in the storage area, he finally found it.

Excited, Leon rushed back to the bedroom and threw himself onto the bed, snuggling up beside Roswitha and pulling her into his arms.

Then, lifting the camera and whispering a quick spell, he began snapping away.

“Come on, darling, give us a smile.”

"Wife, you look so photogenic!"

"These photos, I'll definitely keep them safe!"

Leon was admiring his handiwork with satisfaction when, suddenly, the Dragon Mark on Roswitha's chest flickered again.

Startled, Leon quickly pulled the blanket back over her.

This time, however, he didn't rush out to calm himself down. Instead, after taking a few deep breaths, he muttered to himself,

"T-This time it has to be because I dressed her up as a Bunny Girl. It's definitely not related to this dragoness herself! Right, yeah, I'm into Bunny Girls, absolutely not her!"

After reassuring himself, and to prevent the Dragon Mark from lighting up again, Leon quickly removed the stockings, bunny ears, and all other accessories.

After all, he couldn't let anyone else see her in that outfit.

If anyone asked, there was no way to explain it!

Yet, once everything was tidied up, Leon couldn't help but feel it was a bit of a waste to let this silly dragon off so easily.

Pondering for a while, his gaze landed on Roswitha's smooth, silky hair.

She had the classic silver long, straight hair with a touch of bangs framing her forehead—elegant, refined, and undeniably beautiful.

But Leon thought that beauty shouldn't be her hair's only defining trait.

Aside from bunny ears, there had to be... other ways to have fun with it.

Sitting on the edge of her pillow, Leon gently picked up her strands of hair and began weaving.

Before long, a silver butterfly made entirely from her hair had taken shape.

Satisfied, Leon smiled and then unraveled the butterfly.

Weaving again, this time her hair became a five-pointed star.

Next was a hexagram, followed by a heart, and then a "flower basket."

Roswitha's carefully maintained hair was practically turned into an art project.

He thought to himself, "I'll have to do this for my daughters someday if I get the chance."

In the end, Leon wasn’t entirely heartless.

He braided a thin, delicate braid near Roswitha's temple.

From an aesthetic perspective, the little braid added a touch of playful cuteness to her look.

Leon decided not to undo this one and let it rest by her pillow.

Standing up, he stretched lazily.

"Time for a walk. It's time to move on to the next step of the plan."