After one round, Roswitha was sitting at her desk, her nightgown casually draped over her body. The thin straps hung precariously, her alluring shoulders tempting under the dim light.

She lowered her eyes to look at the tip of her own tail, her brows furrowing slightly.

But then she let out a cold snort. Later, she thought, she'll just make Leon play "Foot Servant" again.

With that thought in mind, Roswitha raised her head to look at Leon, who sat in front of her. The Dragon Slayer rested both hands on the armrests of the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling as though pondering the meaning of life.

The queen felt a slight stir in her thoughts. Slowly, she lifted her exquisitely pale and delicate foot, gently pressing it against the Dragon Mark on Leon’s chest.

The resonance in the Dragon Mark faded gradually, and faint arcs of blue light seemed to flicker across its surface.

Roswitha arched an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“What?”

“The light from the Dragon Mark.” Roswitha gestured toward his chest with her beautiful chin. “Why is it blue?”

Leon glanced down at it and pinched her slender ankle, moving her soft foot away from his chest.

Sure enough, faint, shimmering blue arcs still lingered on the Dragon Mark, but they flickered out entirely after a few moments.

Roswitha broke free from his hand and placed her foot back on his chest. “You don’t know?”

Leon pressed his lips together. In fact, he did know.

It was the residue of his magic, stored in the Dragon Mark over the past few days.

After being stirred up in recent activities, this magic mixed with the properties of the Dragon Mark, creating the phenomenon of a blue glow.

Leon further speculated that, no matter the method, if the Dragon Mark were involved, the magic he "offered" to the mark would continue to dissipate over time.

He tested his strength briefly. It had indeed diminished slightly, but not entirely. That realization gave him some small measure of relief.

“It’s probably just out of control again. Remember how it acted up in the hot spring last time?” Leon blurted out a plausible explanation.

Roswitha nodded thoughtfully. “I see... but this time, this malfunction? Not bad.”

Leon froze. “Not bad?”

“Mhm. Normally, without following proper protocol and just using the tail like this, it should feel like nothing at all, right?”

Reflecting on the earlier events, Roswitha smiled faintly before continuing, “But actually, I felt... something. Tingly, warm. Mm, quite comfortable.”

Leon rolled his eyes at her.

Mother dragon, do you even know why you felt that?

It’s because it was infused with the noble essence of elemental lightning magic!

You think a mere Dragon Mark could make you feel that way?

Keep dreaming.

Roswitha bit her lower lip, her warm sole trailing down from Leon’s chest toward his abdomen.

Before it could go any further, Leon caught her ankle in time. “What are you doing?”

Roswitha tilted her head slightly, a teasing glint flashing in her silver eyes. “You barged into my private chamber in the middle of the night. Do you think one punishment is enough?”

Because their most recent activities had been quite streamlined—lacking the formal turning-in-homework protocol they’d used before—both still had energy to spare.

And clearly, whether out of a desire to punish Leon or something else, Roswitha was not entirely satisfied. She was clearly up for round two.

This time, her approach involved her foot.

Leon told himself that he couldn’t let it happen again. It had taken him considerable effort to accumulate some mana, and it needed to be conserved for more critical tasks!

“Let it go, Mother Dragon. You’re pregnant.” Leon played the pregnancy card, hoping to stop Roswitha in her tracks.

Roswitha leaned back slightly, her delicate frame arching as she propped herself up with both hands. “Pregnant? So what? It’s not like I’m forcing you to get into bed.”

Leon’s eyes darted for an exit strategy. Quick on his feet, he countered, “I mean, it’s almost 4 a.m. Pregnant women shouldn’t stay up late.”

That was a solid excuse. For a moment, Roswitha couldn’t find a suitable rebuttal.

Still, she wasn’t ready to let Leon off so easily. “Fine, we’ll stop. But then, tell me—what are you doing in my room in the first place?”

And just like that, things circled back to where they started.

Leon realized that unless he came up with a flawless excuse, Roswitha wouldn’t let him leave.

After racking his brains, he decided to play the “family card”—despite the fact that there was no familial bond between him and this dragoness.

When all else fails, sentimentality can work wonders.

“I was... worried about you. I came to see if you were sleeping well.” Leon stared into Roswitha’s eyes, his gaze brimming with false sincerity.

Roswitha froze in place. “Worried about me?”

“Yeah. Now that you’re pregnant, your body’s under a lot of stress. And though the two of us always fight, I can distinguish between minor grievances and the bigger picture. Right now, you’re the most important one in the household, so all our disputes can take a back seat for the time being.”

In just a few sentences, Leon painted himself as a model of forgiveness—a textbook high-quality human male.

A foolproof plan. Surely she’d be moved to tears.

Roswitha covered her mouth with both hands, her silver eyes quivering as though she was on the verge of saying something.

Seeing her response, Leon knew his hastily concocted excuse had worked. He pressed on.

“I’m sure you feel the same, right? After all, we’re both dedicated to this family. The only difference now is that my concern for the family is temporarily focused on you. Roswitha, I care about you.”

“Leon...” She still covered her mouth, her voice muffled.

“Hm?”

Moved, aren’t you? Touched beyond belief?

Ready to shed those tears, aren't you?

Don’t cry too hard now, or—

“I’m going to throw up,” Roswitha said.

“...Morning sickness?”

“No, I’m nauseous from how disgusting you are.”

Roswitha closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and exhaled slowly. Her expression softened slightly. “Whew... Okay, continue.”

“......”

What... Mother Dragon, what is wrong with you? Are high-quality human males completely ineffective against you?

Is your heart made of granite? Not the slightest bit swayed?

Oh... Leon suddenly remembered. She’s a dragon. Human "high quality" doesn’t even register.

Roswitha tilted her head, clearly enjoying Leon’s increasingly flustered demeanor. Smiling lightly, she asked, “Do you truly care about me?”

Leon blinked, a sinking feeling in his chest. “Uh... Honestly, not particularly... At least not as much as you probably think.”

“Oh? If you don’t care much for me, why’d you sneak into my chamber? That’s a serious offense, isn’t it?” Roswitha’s tone was playful as she circled him.

“...Fine, I care! Happy now?”

“How much do you care?”

“Do you really have to push this?”

Having exposed Leon’s little scheme, Roswitha took obvious delight in acting like a girlfriend fishing for declarations of love, relishing in his discomfort.

Leon, realizing the game, decided to stop responding.

Roswitha chuckled softly, withdrawing her foot from Leon’s abs. But then her tone grew serious, all trace of playfulness vanishing.

“Leon, I’m lifting the house arrest I placed on you. You’re now free to come and go from the Silver Dragon Castle, even this bedroom. But let it be clear—it’s only because I think it’ll make it more convenient for you to watch over Muen. That doesn’t mean you can sneak into my room in the middle of the night. Understood?”

Leon raised both hands in surrender. “Do what you want. Punish me if you must.”

Caught red-handed, Leon had little to say in his defense. No point spinning his wheels when the evidence was irrefutable.

“Hmph. Punish you? I’ll have plenty of chances to do that later.”

Roswitha hopped off the desk, adjusted the strap of her nightgown, and walked over to Leon. Leaning slightly forward, she jabbed his chest with her index finger.

“From now on, stay in your room like a good boy. If I see you in my quarters after 7 p.m., you know what I’ll do. Right, my dear prisoner?”