The two daughters did not leave immediately. Instead, they turned around, sat on the carpet beneath the bed with their backs leaning against its edge, and began chatting softly.

Truly, there’s a certain audacity that comes from being favored. Take me, for example—your old dad. Last night, when I snuck in here and got caught, your mom was absolutely *ruthless* with me.

And look at the two of you now—completely at ease, casually chatting away.

Hiss~~~

The sharp pain in his waist interrupted Leon's wandering thoughts.

He lifted his gaze to Roswitha.

The queen was smiling, her expression radiating triumph.

Her face seemed to say, “What can you do about it, huh?”

Suppressing the ache coursing through his waist, Leon tried to recall any particularly sensitive spots on Roswitha's body.

Oh, there certainly were—her tail tip.

Every time someone touched the tip of Roswitha's tail, she would instantly go weak all over, transforming into a docile little kitten.

But now, this cunning dragoness had tucked her tail away!

She was invincible, folks!

No, no, no—this won’t do. I’d better come up with something quickly, or if she keeps pinching me like this, I might not even be able to stand up straight by tomorrow morning.

Leon’s gaze roved over Roswitha’s beautiful face. The pain in his waist grew increasingly acute, making it nearly impossible for him to think clearly.

Finally, his eyes dropped, landing on her soft lips.

A bold idea surged into Leon's mind.

At this point, to save his waist, he had no choice but to go for it!

Meanwhile, Roswitha was enjoying Leon’s barely-restrained expression, his face on the verge of crying out in pain. She mouthed, “Don’t—make—a—sound~” with exaggerated articulation.

But just then, Leon’s lips curled into a faint smirk, as if he had devised a counterattack.

Roswitha’s smile froze. She had no idea what this man was planning.

Before the queen could react, she felt Leon’s broad, cool hand gently supporting the back of her head.

Wait... Is he...

Her eyes widened in an instant.

By the time she realized what was about to happen, it was already too late.

Leon, firmly holding the back of her head, pressed his lips against hers.

The moment their lips met, Roswitha instinctively tightened her fingers, pouring more strength into her pinch out of sheer nervousness.

Leon, at that instant, could almost hear the anguished wail of his poor waist.

Well, then. All he could do now was channel his pain into boldness—and kiss this she-dragon even harder!

“Don’t make a sound?”

Fine. If our mouths are occupied, no one can make a sound.

Now that was the quick-thinking adaptability of a top-tier Dragon Slayer!

The world’s number one strategist!

Roswitha’s silvery eyes trembled violently. Were it not for the daughters’ presence, she might’ve already swung her tail directly into this man’s face.

She continued pinching Leon’s waist fiercely, hoping the pain would make him relent.

But instead, she discovered that the harder she pinched, the deeper Leon’s kiss became.

And as the kiss prolonged, Roswitha’s clenched teeth were gradually pried open by Leon’s persistence.

Truthfully, ever since that intoxicating night in the hot spring, the two of them seemed to have developed a strange attachment to the act of kissing.

Both their bodies and conscious minds rejected the idea of kissing the other, yet whenever they locked eyes, the memory of that night sprang vividly to mind.

To them, kissing wasn’t merely a physical act. It was a means of soul resonance, a euphoric sensation far beyond what any other form of physical contact could offer.

It was also, undeniably, an addiction—a temptation they wished to avoid but could never quite let go of.

Their Dragon Marks didn’t glimmer this time, and Roswitha understood that her lapse in composure stemmed entirely from an itch awakened deep within her by this addiction.

And to be fair, this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed since their return from the hot spring.

On their last date in Sky City, at the final stop—a sunset-soaked beach—she and Leon had gazed at each other by the ocean before she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in to kiss him.

She often revisited the sensation of kissing Leon in her mind.

Truthfully, it wasn’t something she disliked.

Rather, she simply couldn’t face herself—how could she? She, a proud Silver Dragon Queen, losing herself in kisses with a Dragon Slayer and even savoring them?

Still, she was certain that Leon shared her conflicted feelings at this moment.

Were it not for exceptional circumstances, he would never have initiated a kiss like this.

But in this particular situation, there was no better way to get the Silver Dragon Queen to abandon tonight’s oppressive “silent challenge.” Only then could they feign normalcy and wait until their daughters left.

Oh, forget it already—this so-called “silent challenge” was just an excuse for two stubborn spouses to tease and torment each other in the first place.

The kissing deepened. At some point, Roswitha’s hands, which had been gripping Leon’s waist, finally let go.

Instead, her soft, warm palms rested against his waist and abdomen, silently immersing herself in this “forced” kiss.

But while the kiss itself might have been silent, the body’s responses couldn’t be so easily suppressed.

Under the blanket, Leon and Roswitha’s legs instinctively rubbed against, entwined, and tangled with one another.

The rustling of the blanket filled the room.

Hearing the faint noises from the bed, the two little dragon girls quickly covered their mouths.

Wait, was that just the sound of turning over?

Muen’s wide eyes darted around. In a low voice, she suggested, “Sister, let’s go~”

“Alright.”

Like stealthy special operatives, the dragon daughters retreated!

As they exited the room as lightly as they had entered, with precise, silent steps, Noa glanced back one last time at her parents before whispering, “Goodnight.”

Then, closing the bedroom door as gently as possible, Noa left with her elder sister.

Leon and Roswitha were aware the girls had left. And yet, both pretended not to notice, indulging in their fervent kiss as if nothing had changed.

Still stubbornly maintaining “silence.”

The heightened emotions made it almost impossible to stop.

Because both Leon and Roswitha realized with startling clarity that, in their usual, tension-filled daily lives, they would never be able to share such an indulgent and cautious yet unrestrained kiss.

This moment felt akin to secretly reading a novel during class as a teenager—both thrillingly engaging with the plot while nervously watching out for the teacher. This blend of tension and exhilaration created a uniquely addictive sensation.

But once you left the classroom, such feelings would vanish, and the novel would remain closed.

Of course, the book and its content never changed—it was merely the environment.

What disappeared was the rebellious pleasure and satisfaction of breaking rules.

Their kiss offered more than physical ecstasy; it was imbued with the delicious guilt of flouting taboos.

Only when the Dragon Marks on their chests began to emit a faint blue glow, their mutual embrace igniting like a spark between them, did Leon and Roswitha break apart as if stung.

Flushed, Roswitha’s face burned, her brain fogged from a lack of oxygen after such an intensely prolonged kiss.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, shook her head, and massaged her temples, taking a moment to catch her breath.

Leon was faring no better.

Once the two of them had calmed their erratic breathing, they lay on their sides, staring wordlessly at each other.

No anger. No teasing. Not even their usual biting banter.

They simply stared... into each other’s eyes.

Black and silver irises melded in the moonlit room, communicating an unspoken longing to revisit the kiss that had just violated all their rules yet felt utterly right.

Both knew, however, that there would not—**could not**—be a second time.

Tonight would end here.

At last, Leon exhaled and said, “I’ll head back to the couch.”

Roswitha said nothing.

Leon turned over silently, ready to lift the blanket and get out of bed.

But as he did so, Roswitha reached out and grabbed the hood of his pajama top from behind.

“What is it? Still afraid of spiders? I was kidding—there aren’t any spiders,” Leon said.

There was no real reason for her to do this.

Roswitha herself couldn’t explain why she had reached out.

Why stop him?

Her mind hadn’t even had time to catch up; her body had acted on its own.

Roswitha bit her lip, at a loss for what to say.

Leon, thinking she was still uneasy about the nonexistent spiders, turned back to face her. Taking in her expression, which seemed difficult to interpret but still hinted at fear, he reassured her, “Alright, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep and then go—”

“There’s no need to go,” Roswitha interrupted softly. Her words left no room for continuation.

After speaking, she simply stared at Leon in silence.

Leon’s heart gave a faint stir. He nodded slightly. “Alright.”

Only then did Roswitha slowly close her eyes. Her long lashes fluttered downward like delicate feathers, and her expression gradually softened. Yet the hand clutching Leon’s hood never loosened.

Leon shifted his gaze to her hand holding the fabric and let out a silent sigh. “Seems I won’t be turning over freely tonight,” he thought.

“Goodnight...” The queen’s long and elegant lashes remained closed as she murmured softly, her voice gentle as a dream.

“Goodnight,” Leon replied.