When Leon returned to the room, it was completely silent.

He tried calling out softly, "Roswitha."

There was no response.

"Fell asleep so quickly, huh?"

Leon muttered to himself, carefully closing the door.

After taking off his shoes at the entrance, Leon moved soundlessly toward the bed with cautious steps, then gingerly climbed on.

But alas, the waterbed was far too "lively." As soon as his hand pressed down, the entire bed swayed toward him.

Underneath the blanket, Roswitha's foot accidentally brushed against the back of his hand.

Leon stiffened in panic.

That dragoness's foot always rekindled some unpleasant memories within him.

Swallowing nervously, Leon discreetly retracted his hand and slowly crawled toward the inner side of the bed.

After lying down, Leon exhaled a breath of relief.

He pulled a corner of the blanket to cover his chest, still not daring to fully snuggle under it.

If Black Dragon Bolus were nearby, he would’ve popped one for sure.

There was no way he’d act this cautious otherwise.

Leon turned his head to look at Roswitha.

The dragoness was already sound asleep, her breath steady, her sleeping face serene and beautiful.

Honestly, Leon really enjoyed watching Roswitha sleep.

She was stunning.

Even as his sworn enemy, Leon had to admit this fact.

She was truly stunning, like someone straight out of a painting.

Especially during a quiet night like this. A faint delicate fragrance lingered in the room, the waterbed perfectly contouring to her soft figure. Moonlight spilled in from the window, casting its glow over her silvery long hair.

Such impeccable atmosphere, combined with her unparalleled beauty—her flawless face held up to scrutiny, even from this close.

Leon found himself momentarily entranced.

And then—

From beneath the blanket over Roswitha’s chest, a faint purple light began to flicker.

Sensing trouble, Leon quickly averted his gaze, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

“Wait... what was the Dragon-Slaying Code of Conduct again?”

“Uh...... Something about... it’s honorable to betray your allies...? No wait, that’s not right, it’s... honorable to lust after beauty... Argh, damn it!”

Gripping the bedsheet tightly, he forced himself to stop entertaining such messy thoughts.

But once the Dragon Mark was triggered, it was like a boulder rolling downhill—it simply wouldn’t stop.

Leon felt a scorching heat spread through his body, no matter how he tried to lie down.

“Mm... hmm~~”

A faint, soft murmur came from Roswitha beside him.

It seemed the Dragon Mark was affecting her too.

Leon tightly shut his eyes, pretending nothing had happened.

Swish, swish—

The sound of skin brushing against the blanket lightly tickled Leon’s already restless heart.

Unable to resist, he opened his eyes to steal a glance at Roswitha.

She slowly extended her arm out from under the blanket, her chest rising and falling faintly.

And that faint purple glow...

Turned out to be a tiny, finger-sized purple ambiance lamp.

Leon was frozen on the spot, utterly dumbfounded.

That wretched, scheming dragoness! She’s messing with me again!

Roswitha slowly opened her eyes, looking at him with a smile. “Hi.”

"...‘Hi’ my ass! What the heck are you doing hiding a lamp under the blanket?!”

“Am I not allowed to hide a lamp?”

Roswitha placed the tiny ambiance lamp on the bedside table. “Found it earlier in a toy set on the coat rack. Thought it was amusing and decided to tease you. What’s up with your reaction just now, though? Don’t tell me you were actually...”

She glanced downward, then back up at Leon's face. “...getting worked up over me?”

Leon avoided her gaze, turning his back to her. “Nope. I’m going to sleep. Don’t talk to me.”

“Tch.”

Roswitha pouted but decided not to torment him further.

After that little prank, the tension between them eased slightly, and both appeared more relaxed.

Roswitha also turned over, lying back-to-back with Leon.

Even so, she didn’t pull much of the blanket toward herself, deliberately leaving some for Leon so he wouldn’t catch a cold in the middle of the night.

If he got sick and passed it to their daughter, then what?

With that thought, Roswitha gradually closed her eyes.

Sleepiness soon enveloped them both.

However, just as Roswitha was about to fall asleep, she suddenly felt something tap her shoulder.

Still half-drowsy, she swatted at it. “Ugh... What? If something’s up, just say it. Quit poking me.”

A faint voice came from behind her. “I didn’t touch you.”

“Then who tapped my shoulder?”

Roswitha turned to look.

The next second—

A startled scream pierced through the room, and the waterbed shook violently.

Before Leon could react, he felt a burst of warmth and softness in his arms.

When he came back to his senses, Roswitha had already curled tightly against his chest. Her arms clung to his shoulders, even her tail—startled into appearance—wrapped around his arm.

Her soft chest pressed against his waist, her long legs bent, trembling slightly in his embrace.

That faint fragrance of hers, mixed with the gentle scent of her bath, wafted straight into Leon’s nose, making his head spin all the more.

Her heart raced, her body temperature spiked—she must have been frightened by something.

Held so tightly by her, Leon found himself skipping over any teasing thoughts and instantly asking, “What’s wrong? What scared you like this?”

“T-There’s... a spider...”

“A spider?”

Leon followed her trembling finger.

Sure enough, a furry black spider perched on a pillow.

Leon remembered seeing a childhood photo earlier—one of baby Roswitha bawling her eyes out after encountering a spider.

Could it be a lingering childhood fear...?

“It’s okay. Let me just—hey, hey, calm down!”

As Leon leaned in, he caught sight of fire—literal fire—gathering in Roswitha’s hand. Dragon Flame swirled, its magical intensity seemingly stronger than when they sparred.

“I’ll kill it,” Roswitha declared, apparently ready for a life-or-death battle.

“Oh, for the love of dragons, no! Please don’t!” Leon quickly grabbed her wrist. “This is a waterbed, Roswitha! If you shoot Dragon Flame here, this whole room will turn into a steam bath!”

Leon gently patted her back, attempting to comfort her. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it. Just breathe, alright? Don’t be scared.”

After carefully disentangling himself from her, Leon crawled over to pick up the spider, then opened the window to toss it outside.

However, the texture in his hand felt... odd.

Not the furry touch of a real spider, but... rubbery?

Wait—was this another one of her pranks?

The thought sent chills down his spine.

Leon didn’t dwell on it, quickly closing the window.

“All clear now. No more spiders.”

Roswitha bit her lip, still somewhat shaken.

After hesitating briefly, she murmured softly, “I’ll sleep on the inner side; you take the outer side.”

“Sure, whatever works for you.”

“Mm...”

Roswitha withdrew her tail, lying back under the blanket.

But the shock still lingered for her.

Leon followed suit, lying back on his side.

This time, he crawled fully under the blanket.

He figured... maybe Roswitha needed someone close by right now.

After lying quietly for a while, he glanced over at her.

She was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, her mind clearly unsettled.

She couldn’t wrap her head around how a spider had shown up here of all places.

From childhood to now, Roswitha had always been terrified of such creatures—their hairy legs, their tiny creepy eyes... even the thought made her shiver.

She had always relied on her older sister Isa for comfort when such things happened. But now, her sister wasn’t around—

“If you’re still scared, you can... hold my hand,” came the deep voice of the man beside her.

Roswitha froze briefly, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in before slowly exhaling.

“Fine. Give it here.”

Leon blinked. “What?”

“Your hand.”

“Oh, oh, okay.”

Rustling under the blanket, Leon extended his hand toward her, and Roswitha reached for it as well.

But something felt... off.

Lifting the blanket, Leon complained, “How’s holding onto just my pinky supposed to give you any sense of security?”

Roswitha’s cheeks flushed. “Then how should I—”

“Dummy, like this.”

Leon interlaced his fingers with hers, slotting them perfectly together. Ten fingers intertwined, a newfound sense of safety washing over her.