Roswitha decided to take a day off.

When she informed Anna of this, the head maid was utterly shocked.

After all, Her Majesty the Queen was famously a workaholic. Unless there was some essential reason, she would never take a break.

Anna thought the Queen might be ill, so she voiced her concerns with a few questions, but the only response she received was:

“I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately and want to rest.”

It was a simple and flawless reason for a day off.

So Anna didn’t press further.

On the day the Queen took her leave, Anna temporarily stepped in to handle the clan's affairs, both big and small.

In the morning, Roswitha lay on the living room sofa, dressed in a silky nightgown. One strap had slipped from her smooth, rounded shoulder and precariously dangled there.

Her voluptuous figure was like undulating mountain peaks, majestic from every angle.

One delicate hand rested lightly on her belly, while the back of her other hand pressed gently against her forehead.

She was sleepy.

A kind of inexplicable sleepiness.

She had gone to bed early the night before, so why did she still feel perpetually drowsy today?

She glanced sideways at the ice cream on the coffee table.

She thought of eating something sweet to perk herself up, but it didn’t do any good.

It wasn’t that the cool and refreshing texture of the ice cream didn’t help; rather, eating anything lately gave her a slightly nauseous feeling.

Especially in the morning and at night.

The beauty withdrew her gaze from the ice cream, closed her eyes, and reflected on all the peculiar symptoms she’d been experiencing lately.

She’d been inexplicably gaining weight—though it wasn’t obvious, women were always highly attuned to changes in their weight.

She suffered bouts of nausea and retching during meals, particularly when smelling oil or meat, which exacerbated her gag reflex.

Her head felt dizzy, her limbs ached, and even sitting up too quickly from bed would cause her vision to black out momentarily, requiring ten or so seconds to recover.

And now, she was constantly sleepy.

Tch.

The more she thought, the more irritable she became.

Roswitha twisted on the sofa, turning to face the couch’s backrest. She hugged her arms to herself as her silver tail drooped, slipping over the edge of the sofa.

From behind, she resembled a young girl sulking for no apparent reason.

In some ways, Roswitha and Leon were quite alike.

Both would toss and turn restlessly, becoming agitated when they couldn’t work through something on their minds.

However, Leon's restlessness often stemmed from actual problems, and as an action-oriented person, he would inevitably overcome them with time.

Roswitha’s turmoil, on the other hand, was often tied to matters of the heart—a far trickier challenge that couldn't be resolved quickly.

The weight she carried might rest on her body, but her frustrations lodged firmly in her mind.

After shifting around on the sofa multiple times without finding sleep, Roswitha confirmed she was caught in a paradox: totally exhausted but utterly unable to sleep.

She gave up and sat up, padding barefoot to her study.

She decided to write in her diary.

Opening the diary to its latest entry, she saw she’d last recorded Muen’s successful dual-magic awakening a few days prior.

Biting the tip of her pen, Roswitha pondered what to write about today.

But since it was still only morning, and she hadn’t even left the house yet, what was there to record?

Uninspired, Roswitha began flipping through earlier entries.

Suddenly, she noticed something: it had been quite a while since Leon had handed in his mandatory “turning in homework” report.

The Queen’s pupils twinkled subtly as mischievous thoughts brewed in her mind.

“It seems I ought to make some time to pick a fight with that useless man.”

Ever since the Bunny Girl photo incident, the couple's life had grown peaceful and harmonious. They had quietly settled into a stable rhythm, neither stepping on each other’s toes.

But Roswitha knew such tranquility couldn’t last forever.

Otherwise, Leon might start forgetting his true status as her captive.

She had to find an excuse to open up the “battlefield” again.

A dragoness initiating conflict? Perfectly understandable.

With this in mind, she closed the diary, changed into a more elegant dress suitable for leaving the house, and stepped out of the room.

She strolled into the practice yard outside, where Leon was teaching Muen some basic magic.

From afar, she could already hear them talking.

“So, that’s the advantage of lightning magic, Muen. Now let’s hear you summarize it,” Leon said.

“Okay~” Muen responded.

The father and daughter duo sat cross-legged on the grass. The little dragon girl pondered for a moment and then began slowly articulating her response:

“Lightning magic is a highly versatile type of magic. By concentrating its power, it can deliver effective damage to a single target. By dispersing its energy, it can strike large groups of targets.”

“Lightning magic can also be used to enhance speed, strength, and physical durability.”

“It truly is an all-around magic type that excels in both offense and defense!”

Leon gave her a thumbs up. “Good! Listen, Muen, remember this: Mastering lightning magic means you can go anywhere in this world. Got it?”

“Got it, Papa!”

“Why teach only the perks of lightning magic? Shouldn’t you also mention fire magic?”

A familiar female voice came from behind them, low and magnetic, tinged with a certain laziness.

Both father and daughter turned toward the sound.

The tall beauty stood there in a flowing dress, her silver hair and hem fluttering lightly in the breeze, revealing slender, white legs and delicate, rounded ankles beneath.

Even without wearing formal attire, she exuded an air of cold elegance and aristocratic dignity.

Muen’s eyes lit up as she called out joyfully, “Mama~ Anna said you were taking a rest today, so Papa and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Roswitha smiled as she approached them. She sat down cross-legged beside them, subtly moving farther away from Leon as she adjusted her position.

“Mama, why are you taking a day off? Are you sick?” Muen asked with concern.

“No, no, Muen. Don’t overthink it. Mama’s just a bit tired and needs a break. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to work as usual~” Roswitha affectionately pinched her daughter’s little nose.

“Oh, okay! As long as Mama isn’t sick,” the little dragon girl said, finally reassured.

“I just overheard that Papa is teaching you lightning magic. Is that right?” Roswitha asked.

“Uh-huh! Mama, let me tell you something—lightning magic is so amazing! Papa is a master of it!” Muen exclaimed enthusiastically.

Encouraged by his daughter’s enthusiasm, Leon knew it was time to flaunt his prowess.

He puffed out his chest, cleared his throat, and drew attention to himself. “Muen, show your mama what you’ve learned.”

“Okay, Papa~”

The Queen blinked in slight confusion, unsure of what spectacle this father-daughter duo was about to perform.

Muen stood up, slightly bent her knees, and opened her palms. Almost instantly, blue electric sparks danced across her hands.

In just a short while, two small thunderballs had formed in her palms.

Roswitha’s pupils quivered slightly in shock. “You’ve managed to grasp elemental energy transformation just two days after awakening?”

Though forming a sphere was the most basic form of energy manipulation, mastering it in such a short time rivaled the efficiency of Noa herself.

Muen dissipated the thunderballs and sat back down at her mother’s side, her expression full of anticipation. “Right, right! Isn't Muen amazing?”

Roswitha raised a hand to stroke her daughter’s hair and sincerely praised her. “Mm, very impressive. Truly impressive. So... what about fire magic? Have you learned anything from it?”

Leon’s primary element was lightning, but that didn’t mean it was all he could do.

After all, after years of practicing magic, sticking to only one element would be grounds to delete your save file and start over.

“Uh... no, Papa hasn’t taught me yet,” Muen admitted truthfully.

Roswitha’s thoughts shifted; she sensed this was her chance to nitpick.

Turning her gaze to Leon, she narrowed her eyes. “Why are you only teaching lightning magic and not fire magic? Is it because you can’t? My... dear... husband?”

That last “husband” sent a chilling sensation down Leon’s spine.

Hearing her use that word outside the bedroom felt like the Grim Reaper was calling his name from a list.

But to be fair, Roswitha wasn’t entirely unjustified in picking a fight. Leon truly hadn’t taught Muen anything about fire magic yet.

Not only that, but he had also been sneakily instilling the idea that “lightning magic is the best magic in the world, and fire magic is just a second-rate tool for frying bread” into his daughter.

Though not quite as blunt as that, the sentiment was definitely there.

This had discouraged Muen from even asking to learn fire magic.

And Leon naively believed this workaholic dragoness was too busy to check on her daughter’s learning progress.

Little did he know, his secret agenda had been uncovered within just three days.

Leon rubbed the bridge of his nose and attempted to explain, “It’s all about taking it step by step. Whether it's lightning or fire, both are equally strong, so it doesn’t matter which one we start with.”

Equally strong?

Then why do I feel as though those words don’t normally come out of your mouth?

Skeptical, Roswitha asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes—”

“No, Papa, that’s not what you said yesterday.” Muen tilted her head, her big, adorable eyes blinking innocently.

“Not true! Papa was saying exactly—” Leon tried to stop his adorably traitorous daughter.

But it was already too late.

“Shut up. Muen, what did Papa say yesterday?” Roswitha turned to her daughter.

Muen began counting the “sins” of fire magic on her tiny fingers.

“Papa said fire magic is really limited in how it can be used.”

“It’s also too easy to learn, so studying it doesn’t feel rewarding.”

“Only silly dragons focus on fire magic. Plus, fire magic isn’t as practical as lightning magic.”

“Uh... Mama, why do you look like you want to eat Papa?”