"Impossible, absolutely impossible."

Having changed out of her nurse's uniform, Roswitha sat on the edge of the bed, firmly refuting, "I always take precautions afterward. There's no way... I could be pregnant."

The queen, known for her usual composure and grace, now appeared flustered and uneasy.

Leon, seated on the sofa across from her, remained silent for a moment before asking, "Those precautions... are they one hundred percent effective?"

Roswitha tucked the stray strands of hair framing her cheeks behind her ears, biting her lower lip as she explained,

"It's a purification-type magic. As long as it's performed within twenty-four hours afterward, it ensures that the Dragon Clan won't conceive."

Roswitha added, "The books claim this magic has a success rate of 99.9 percent."

Leon blinked in astonishment. "But doesn't that still leave a 0.1 percent chance?"

Although a 0.1 percent chance was incredibly slim, it couldn't offset how frequently Leon and Roswitha had been "turning in homework" these past weeks—almost every three days, sometimes more.

Moreover, this so-called 'one time' in a day doesn't necessarily mean just once.

A night was long, and Roswitha would never let Leon off so easily.

Thus, despite the low odds, they were not entirely immune from "winning the lottery."

Roswitha raised her eyes to meet his. "This magic theoretically has an extremely low possibility of failure, but in the Dragon Clan's thousands of years of reproduction, there hasn’t been a single case of such an accident. The 99.9 percent figure in the books is just a conservative estimate. So practically speaking, as long as one uses purification magic afterward, pregnancy won't happen."

Leon spread his hands. "Then... as you said, you've taken precautions every time, so why would you still—"

"I'm NOT pregnant!"

Roswitha interrupted sharply, her voice rising.

She seemed a bit agitated.

Regarding the subject of pregnancy... she harbored some resistance toward it.

Her hand moved to rest lightly on her stomach as her bright eyes gazed at Leon, filled with a spectrum of emotions too complex to articulate.

Looking into Leon's eyes, Roswitha was reminded of her days carrying Noa and Muen.

That was the loneliest, most helpless time in her life—and the primary reason she now recoiled at the thought of being pregnant again.

Leon, meeting her gaze, understood her reluctance to confront this possibility.

Still, he felt he needed to urge her to take a test.

Not because he was worried about her—well, maybe there was a tiny bit of worry, but that wasn't the point.

What mattered most was the possibility that, if Roswitha truly was pregnant again, the child within her would also be his.

Humans had an intrinsic love for their blood relatives, ingrained into their very nature, just as he cared dearly for Muen and Noa.

And he knew Roswitha felt the same.

Isa had once told him about Roswitha's shifting mindset during the time she was pregnant with Noa and her twin sister.

What she feared wasn’t pregnancy itself or the arrival of a new life, but the prospect of facing everything alone as she had in the past.

Leon hesitated briefly before standing, walking over to her side, and sitting down next to her on the bed.

Roswitha instinctively wanted to get up and put some distance between them.

However, as soon as her hips left the mattress, she decided against it.

The couple sat together like this, their shoulders touching, as moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the side of Leon’s face.

After a long silence, Leon spoke. "Why not take a test? Just to be sure, okay?"

For once, his tone carried a hint of gentle coaxing.

"I... I'm not pregnant..." Roswitha quietly reiterated, her voice still uncertain.

Her fists clenched tightly on her knees, her delicate face written with unease.

Leon could tell from her recent series of strange reactions that she already had an inkling, though she was reluctant to face the truth.

After another pause, he reached out, gently laying his hand over hers.

Leon’s palm bore the calluses of battle and countless small scars. Yet when held by this hand, Roswitha felt an overwhelming sense of security.

It wasn’t the clichéd "sense of safety." She had never sought such solace from anyone—not even Leon.

What Roswitha had lacked when pregnant with the twins last year was this kind of deep reassurance.

"Just take the test," Leon urged. "Otherwise, these lingering symptoms will keep plaguing you, and you won’t find peace of mind, will you?"

After a brief moment, he added, "No matter the outcome, I'll face it with you."

Two years ago, that fateful dungeon had been a turning point for both Leon and Roswitha.

If, on that day, Leon had failed to hold on until Roswitha came to see him—if she hadn’t tasted that drop of his blood, or if he had forgotten to invoke the magic of the Blood Enchantment—

then none of this would have ever happened.

Leon would’ve been just another casualty on the battlefield against dragons.

And Roswitha would’ve remained seated upon her lofty throne.

But alas, life offered no "what-ifs."

What had happened was now reality, and responsibilities followed closely behind.

And in Leon’s worldview, there was no room for shirking responsibility.

He loved Noa and Muen wholeheartedly, devoting himself to being the best father he could be while striving to nurture this "family" alongside Roswitha.

So if yet another responsibility were to arrive, whether planned or unexpected, Leon would not run away from it.

For a man, nothing was more important than taking responsibility.

Without that, no championship title, no amount of fame, would hold any value.

Roswitha kept her eyes lowered—she wasn’t one for lofty philosophizing, and Leon knew that.

So he spoke to her with straightforward sincerity, making his promise in the simplest terms.

Still, Roswitha understood that Leon’s promise came not from feelings of affection for her.

He was fulfilling his role as a "husband" within the family, as a father to their two children, out of duty and obligation.

Did she, his "wife," even cross his mind amidst all this?

Roswitha didn’t know.

Nor did she want to find out.

But at the very least, Roswitha felt comforted by Leon’s honesty.

At the bare minimum, he wasn’t gleefully mocking her with a "Haha! Another one of my kids, huh?"

That would’ve been downright despicable. She would’ve clobbered him.

"Fine. I'll take a test."

"Wait... Do you have one on hand?"

Roswitha got up, walked to the storage cabinet, crouched down, and began rummaging through its contents.

"Two years ago, after you got me pregnant in that dungeon, I went out and bought a lot of test kits."

"Oh..."

"Here we go."

Roswitha took out a small cardboard box filled with various kits.

Selecting one, she headed toward the bathroom. "Give me ten minutes."

"Alright."

Leon sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his fingers.

To be honest, he was a little nervous, too.

Who wouldn’t be? If she were actually pregnant, the dragoness’s Castle was about to get a whole lot livelier.

His own personal "The Captive's Ordeal" would gain yet another dramatic chapter—

fathering a second child with a dragon.

And if his master found out that, during Leon’s two-year absence, not only had he lived well and eaten well, but he had also fathered multiple offspring, the old man would probably laugh himself into the heavens.

When Leon had just graduated from the academy, his master had started badgering him to find a girlfriend, get married, and have kids so he and his wife could spoil their grandchild.

"The grandson of the family next door is already old enough to run errands," his master had scolded. “Meanwhile, you don’t even have a girlfriend. What, are you planning on spending your life with the family mule? Go find a girl and bring her home by the end of the year!"

Leon had retorted, "Master, is it possible you’re forgetting that I’m only fifteen this year? That neighbor's grandkid should call me 'Big Brother.'"

"You know nothing!" the master had huffed. "It’s all about getting ahead in life."

Leon replied, "Then maybe you should’ve adopted a baby instead? Now *that* would’ve been starting from square one."

The master had promptly kicked him.

Snapping out of his reverie, Leon glanced up as Roswitha stepped out of the bathroom.

She was staring intently at the little diagnostic tool in her hand, her expression grave.

Judging by her face alone, Leon could pretty much guess the result.

Still, he cautiously asked, “So...?"

Roswitha clicked her tongue, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Can't you tell? Why even ask?"

She returned to her seat on the bed, staring down at her toes.

The couple fell into silence once more.

After a while, Leon spoke. “When you were pregnant with Noa and her sister, you had similar symptoms of dizziness and nausea, right? Didn’t it occur to you this time that you might be pregnant again?”

"I thought about it, but I was sure that I’d taken precautions every time. So I just assumed it was from overwork."

"And you didn’t think to test?" Leon gestured toward the device in her hand with a nod of his chin.

Roswitha shook her head, mumbling, "No."

Scratching the tip of his nose, Leon asked cautiously, “Then... which time was it? The night at the hot springs?”

Roswitha thought back.

Although that night had been one of their most heated, deeply immersive experiences, she distinctly remembered performing the necessary precautions the following morning.

So it couldn’t possibly have been that.

"It wasn’t the hot springs," she stated definitively, memories swirling. "Could it have been during the Bunny Girl photo shoot?"

That period had indeed seen a spike in their "homework" frequency, far more than usual.

Moreover, Leon had been in complete control at the time, leaving her with no say in matters.

But as Roswitha reminisced further, she quickly dismissed the possibility. Even during that intense period, she hadn’t neglected to perform the necessary precautions.

"It’s unlikely," she muttered. “Could it have been the Black Dragon Bolus night?”

At these words, the queen sharply inhaled.

That had been the most terrifying night of her life—Leon consumed by madness was her perpetual nightmare.

And yet, this shameless man still dared to bring it up.

But unfortunately, "it wasn't that night either."

The couple meticulously counted their past "sins." Almost every instance was vividly memorable—just a slight prompt was enough to recall the entire process.

It seemed as though they were trying to figure out which moment had led to their "jackpot," but in reality, it felt more like an accounting of their tangled fate.

And yet, there was no way around it. They had no choice but to brace themselves, enduring the overwhelming sense of embarrassment, as they slowly pieced the memories together.

Which time was it, exactly…?

Suddenly, Leon clapped his hands, a flash of inspiration lighting up his face.

"Oh, I remember which time it was!"