Roswitha looked up, her eyes filled with suspicion as she glanced at him. "Which time?"

Leon answered with certainty, "The Blood Enchantment incident."

At his words, Roswitha suddenly seemed to awaken from a dream, her memory instantly pulling her back to the night when she used the Blood Enchantment on Leon.

On that night of indulgence, depravity, and unrestrained passion, Leon, under the enchantment's spell, kept demanding more from Roswitha. Indeed, they had spent the entire night indulging in their desires.

However, on that very night, Roswitha had underestimated the side effects of the Blood Enchantment on the Dragon King’s body. She had inadvertently caused herself to collapse, falling unconscious.

And that unconsciousness lasted three whole days.

Full days, far exceeding the effective safety limit of precautions.

When she finally woke up, Roswitha barely had a moment to clear her mind before Leon whisked her around the back mountains of the Castle for a sightseeing "tour."

By the time she regained her composure, she had already forgotten all about those safety precautions.

Now, recalling it all, she couldn’t help but feel it was an oversight of all oversights.

The queen closed her eyes tightly, knocking herself on the head in frustration. She muttered under her breath, "How could this happen…?"

Leon, standing to her side, sighed. "What’s done is done. Regret won’t help now. Besides, who told you to use Blood Enchantment on me in the first place?"

Hearing this, Roswitha was instantly displeased. "What do you mean by me ‘choosing to use it on you’? If you hadn’t used it on me back in the dungeon, would I have used it on you just recently?"

"Please, if I hadn’t used it, would’ve died in that dungeon," Leon argued with conviction.

"No problem, it’s not too late even now. Let me end you!" With that, Roswitha made a gesture as though to grab Leon’s neck—but there was no real force to it. It was merely a way of venting her frustration and self-recrimination over her past oversight.

But how could Leon let her have her way?

He quickly tucked his neck in, lowering his chin to block her attempts. With his new posture, Roswitha found herself unable to grab hold.

In the end, Roswitha could only express her helpless frustration by giving two futile thumps against his shoulder. Then, with a huff, she turned away, crossed her arms, and said nothing more.

However, it wasn’t the fact of "pregnancy" that truly upset her, nor was it the prospect of a second child growing in her belly. Instead, she was frustrated with herself for her carelessness—angry at how this "failed operation" had happened.

Moreover, she dreaded and felt uncertain about the many chain reactions and consequences that pregnancy brought.

She still remembered how chaotic her life had become when she first became pregnant with Noa and Muen, her twin daughters.

Excessive sleeping, nausea, dizziness—she had experienced all kinds of bizarre and annoying little symptoms, one after another, making it nearly impossible for her to focus on work.

By mid-pregnancy, Roswitha could no longer carry out her duties as usual. Left with no choice, she delegated certain matters to Anna, while she herself remained under the care of the Maid Squad, focusing solely on her health and the babies.

Still, pregnancy’s toll on a woman’s emotions could often be deeply unpredictable.

On top of that, the peculiar circumstances surrounding her conception were an unspeakable embarrassment, and the culprit behind it all had, at the time, been lying unconscious in the nursery next door.

This had left her often feeling gloomy, able to find solace only by writing letters to her sister, Isa, to vent her feelings of sadness.

But now, the culprit had awoken. Not only that—thanks to their "teamwork"—they’d succeeded in conceiving a second child.

It was as if the heavens had deliberately decided to grant Leon the opportunity to be a properly involved "expectant father" this time.

Seriously, thanks but no thanks!

After a moment of silence, Roswitha let out a deep sigh.

She turned back, lowered her gaze, and gently rested her hand on her abdomen. In a hushed tone, she murmured, "As you said, what’s done is done. The best thing now is to settle in and focus on the pregnancy. Do you have any experience with taking care of pregnant women?"

"..." Leon was speechless. "Do you seriously not know whether I have experience or not?"

The first time around, Leon had been unconscious the whole time, practically a bystander. By the time he woke up, the kids were already calling him "Dad" and running around the house.

And she’s asking if he has experience?

Roswitha gave a smug little smirk. "So you don’t, then. No big deal—luckily, I do."

"Haha, so funny," Leon replied dryly, flashing a sarcastic grin.

They were each other’s "first love." And yet, one had experience with pregnancy, while the other had none—it was a situation you’d expect only if one partner were remarried while the other was in their first marriage.

It seemed that Leon had seamlessly integrated the absurdities of his life into his married life with Roswitha.

To pull off bringing a dragon down to his level using only a mortal body—Leon Casmod was truly a trailblazer in human history.

"Since I have experience and you don’t," Roswitha began matter-of-factly, "I think it’s important for me to educate you on the dos and don’ts of pregnancy."

Leon shrugged. "I’m all ears."

"I don’t know how you humans handle pregnancies, but for the Dragon Clan, pregnancy often comes with loss of appetite, fatigue, and heightened mood swings. Can you put up with me snapping at you?"

"I can’t. If you throw a tantrum at me, I’ll level your Silver Dragon Castle," Leon said, sounding entirely serious.

"I don’t believe you." Roswitha covered her mouth with a small laugh. She could tell he was just bluffing.

"Yet you ask anyway." Leon closed his eyes in feigned exasperation, placing one hand over his chest while massaging his temples with the other.

"Tsk. But considering how you love arguing with me for no reason at all, I think a reminder is warranted. While I’m pregnant, *I* am the top priority. Got it?"

Leon squinted at Roswitha thoughtfully.

She smiled faintly, her beautiful eyes gazing directly up at him.

Leon knew exactly what she was up to. Beneath that radiant smile was her cunning little heart.

And, of course, she knew Leon was aware of her plan. Yet, she deliberately flaunted her intentions anyway, bold as could be.

Why did Roswitha dare to act this way? Simple:

This queen was pregnant.

As she stated, when it comes to pregnancy, the pregnant woman reigns supreme.

That principle holds true even among humans.

However, the notion of "pregnant women are the priority" generally works in the context of a normal family unit.

And, well—just look at this duo. Do they seem like a *normal* couple to you?

Not in the slightest.

Leon could already foresee the countless ways this mama dragon would exploit her "I’m pregnant" card to torment him in the days to come.

But there was nothing he could do. After all, Roswitha becoming unexpectedly pregnant this second time around wasn’t solely her "accomplishment."

This situation wasn’t like those times Leon had dealt with tactics such as "Bunny Girl coercion," digging up "hidden pasts," or using "if the enemy advances, retreat" strategies.

This time, there weren’t many alternatives left to Leon. He had no choice but to adapt to each twist as it came, responding step by step.

"Alright. You’re the boss—pregnant women take the lead. Whatever you say, goes." Leon threw up his hands.

Roswitha smiled with satisfaction. "Good! I like your attitude."

She lowered her gaze to her still-flat belly, her mind drifting back to the moment when she first confirmed her pregnancy. Her emotions had been nothing short of turbulent then.

Fear, anxiety, resentment, and anger.

But now, as she reflected on her current feelings…though there were hints of regret, there was also surpassing joy and comfort in the thought of welcoming a new life.

After a moment of contemplation, the queen mumbled softly, "I wonder who this little one will take after when they’re born."

Leon’s sharp ears picked up her words instantly, and he chimed in, "Obviously, they’ll take after me more."

Bickering with Roswitha seemed to have embedded itself into his muscle memory.

And, of course, for Roswitha, the feeling was mutual.

Roswitha paused, then glanced at him sideways. "Dragon Slayer, where does all your confidence come from?"

"Noa and Muen gave me this confidence," Leon replied matter-of-factly.

Roswitha let out a cold scoff. "What gave you that idea? They clearly take after me more."

Leon spread his hands, presenting his case. "I’ve seen your childhood photos at your sister’s house. It’s clear they resemble me more than they do you."

Roswitha raised an eyebrow, her thoughts shifting slightly before she calmly retorted, "But they have tails."

"Noa’s elemental affinity is the same as mine—thunder," Leon countered.

Roswitha leisurely repeated, "You’re right. But… they have tails."

"Their hair is mostly black, which obviously resembles me. Am I wrong this time?"

"Uh-huh. But they still have tails."

Leon threw his hands up in frustration, exasperated. "Could we *please* stop talking about tails?"

The queen shook her head with a sly smile. "Nope."

A tail was one of the most distinct differences between humans and members of the Dragon Clan.

As long as Roswitha held onto that key distinction, no matter what evidence Leon brought, he could never overcome the irrefutable "tail argument."

Infuriated, the Dragon Slayer shot to his feet, pointing firmly at Roswitha’s belly. With unwavering resolve, he declared,

"Baby, once you’re born, you are *not* allowed to have a tail. Got it?!"