A few nights later, Leon took a couple's pajama set into the bathroom to change into it.

Although Noa had already gone back to school, there was no guarantee that Muen hadn't been assigned some nighttime "inspection" duty by her elder sister to check on the parental sleeping arrangements. If Muen found out they weren't sleeping together or not wearing the couple's pajamas, she would undoubtedly file a report and criticize them thoroughly.

Leon placed the pajamas on a nearby clothing rack. Crossing his arms, he pinched the hem of his shirt on both sides and decisively pulled it off in one smooth motion.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Leon's gaze fell on the Dragon Mark upon his chest.

Although he was now cohabitating with that dragoness, it hadn't stopped him from secretly condensing and storing magic power.

Fortunately, Roswitha had been somewhat “untrustworthy” these past few days. The two of them would merely exchange a few bickering words after climbing into bed before each retreating to their own side for the night.

However, during their last exchange in the study, Roswitha had performed the "tail entwining" maneuver on him, causing him to lose a portion of the magic he'd stored in the Dragon Mark. This demonstrated that as long as the Dragon Mark was involved in any process—whether it was a routine "turning in of homework" or otherwise—Leon would inevitably lose magical power.

Yes, even just her tail was an issue.

Thus, the precondition for amassing a significant amount of magic power was clear:

Under no circumstances was he to engage in any such intimacy with Roswitha— not in any form, shape, or manner.

However, it was easy to see that this was nearly impossible.

The primary motivation behind Roswitha's efforts to "humiliate" her captive of war had always revolved around forcing Leon—this once proud human Dragon Slayer—to engage in activities that would debase his dignity and pride. If she abandoned that approach, she may not even know how to torment him anymore.

What would she do then? Tie him up and whip him with a small lash?

That would cross the line into domestic abuse.

So, in short, if Leon wanted to regain his peak strength, he would have to drastically limit his interactions with Roswitha in the coming months. Ideally, he wouldn't turn in any "homework" at all.

In other words, he would essentially need to maintain a "virgin-like" state.

"Tsk... No wonder my master used to say boys train better when they’re pure. It all makes sense now," Leon mused aloud.

However, expecting a married man with children to keep to such a state while living with a cohabitant who's not only gorgeous, but also boasts a stunning figure—and who, every night, seemed intent on waggling her soft, dexterous tail at him with some odd agendas in mind—that might be a bit too much to ask of anyone.

To make matters worse, if Roswitha ever learned that "turning in homework" had the effect of depleting his magical reserves, she might even increase the frequency from "once every three days" to "three times a day."

Never underestimate that dragoness. Even under these special circumstances, she would still find a way.

"Sigh, in any case… to recover my strength steadily, I’m going to have to distance myself from that dragoness’s provocations for now."

Then Leon paused, something suddenly occurring to him. "But distancing myself aside, the prenatal education plan still needs to move forward as originally planned. It's been quite a few days since I last did it for our second baby. I'll find an opportunity to get started tonight."

With that thought in mind, Leon changed into the pajamas and stepped out of the bathroom.

The light in the study was still on, indicating Roswitha was still working.

Leon thought for a moment and, feigning casualness, wandered over to the study doorway, leaning lazily against the frame.

Hearing movement, Roswitha glanced up but then lowered her gaze, resuming her work. "What is it?" she asked.

She, too, was wearing the pink couple's pajamas, likely having changed into them while Leon was in the bathroom. Her silver hair was tied into a simple ponytail that draped over her shoulder, with the bangs pinned back with a hair clip to avoid blocking her vision.

Whenever Roswitha worked intently, she exuded a kind of unique charm. It was a far cry from her usual aloof indifference or sharp-tongued temperament, giving her an air of intellectual beauty instead. One couldn’t help but quiet down in her presence and admire the tranquil atmosphere this elegant woman radiated.

Lately, however, this polished elegance had taken on a layer of unexpected cuteness—primarily thanks to that pink cartoonish pajama set. Its childish style added a faint but noticeable touch of humor to Roswitha's otherwise noble demeanor, making her seem a bit less unapproachable.

Noticing the cup of coffee on her desk, Leon raised a brow. He could tell she was using it to stay awake.

"Got a lot of work tonight? Can you finish it all?" he asked.

"If I don't do it, it will never get finished," she replied with the blunt practicality of a workaholic.

“Should I fix you a midnight snack?” Leon offered.

“No need. I’m not hungry.”

“I’m just worried about the baby in your belly going hungry,” Leon said.

Roswitha froze for a moment at his comment, her silver eyes flickering briefly. Then she looked up, holding her pen loosely between her fingers while resting her chin in her palm. Across the desk, she gazed at Leon with a playful smile.

“Are you really worried about the baby, or… is this just a roundabout way of expressing concern for me, and you’re too embarrassed to say so directly?”

Ever since learning from Leon’s elder sister Isa about a certain "oath" he'd once sworn, Roswitha had gained a handy tool to poke at his emotional blind spots. She didn’t know if his vow had been sincere or merely a placating remark to Isa, but it was undeniably effective in making Leon squirm.

As expected, a basic attack from Roswitha tricked Leon into using his flash:

“Me? Concerned for you? The only thing I care about is when you'll step down from your position as Silver Dragon Queen so that the entire Silver Dragon Castle can finally become the domain of the great Leon Casmod!”

Roswitha knew such over-the-top quips weren't a reflection of Leon's true thoughts.

But the truth of his sentiments? That remained a mystery to her.

Well, no matter. Tonight, she had her own plans to delve into that more directly.

"And then what?" Roswitha asked, humoring his nonsense for now. After all, as cohabitants, they were each other’s sole conversational companion in this vast, isolated castle.

Between her tedious workload and Leon's occasional flights of absurdity, his unpredictable banter was also one of her few sources of amusement.

“What happens next?” Leon pretended to think aloud. "Then I take all your Silver soldiers, reclassify them as first-class merit rewards, hand them over to the Empire, and live a life of luxury off the proceeds."

But just as the words were about to leave his mouth, Leon reconsidered.

Pregnant dragonesses weren’t known for dealing well with “jokes,” let alone ones of that nature.

His thoughts also flickered to the rare batch of immortal jade dragon fruit he had painstakingly retrieved for her from Sky City—and which she hadn’t yet consumed. Should he risk eroding her tolerance over an offhanded remark tonight? Maybe not.

So, the second half of his response shifted to:

"Then I finish all your workload, leaving you with nothing to do but enjoy a peaceful retirement."

Roswitha chuckled softly. "Retirement? I still have a good few centuries ahead of me before that. But sure, when the time comes, feel free to come help me ‘retire.’"

“Centuries? I’d have to drag myself out of my grave to fulfill that promise.”

“No problem. I’ll just have a sorcerer resurrect your body, turning you into a diligent puppet designed for eternal labor. What do you think, husband? Am I thoughtful, or what?”

Leon gave her a forced grin, baring his teeth. "You’re the epitome of thoughtfulness… dearest wife."

Roswitha chuckled, then sighed as her gaze shifted back to the towering stacks of reports and files on her desk.

Leon wasn’t wrong. This work was never-ending.

"Alright, let’s stop here for tonight," she murmured. After all, she still had plans to stay up late after lying in bed feigning sleep until a certain hour—a habit she'd adopted recently. That cup of coffee on her desk? It wasn't for work; it was for her post-midnight plans.

Roswitha unclipped her hair, allowing her long silvery locks to cascade freely down to her waist like a shimmering waterfall.

Standing up, she switched off the desk lamp. “Let’s go. Time for bed.”

Leon felt a flicker of hope. Finally, the workaholic had decided to get some rest!

When Roswitha fell asleep, his "prenatal education" plans could finally begin.

They climbed into bed from their respective sides, with Roswitha switching off the bedside light.

“Goodnight,” she said softly.

“Goodnight,” Leon replied.

This newfound exchange wasn’t a habit they had before.

In fact, neither of them had once thought it was necessary.

Why would a war prisoner wish a queen goodnight? Being allowed to share the same bed was already a once-in-a-lifetime miracle—why make it seem like they were a real married couple?

But ever since that ill-fated evening of “midnight inspections,” the two had developed an unspoken understanding about saying goodnight to each other.

It all dated back to a night when they'd kissed in secret, against all odds. The rush of emotions during that stolen moment had left them both inexplicably unsettled, stirring unspoken cravings.

The words "Goodnight" became a small but effective way to quell the restless pull they both felt. Without the utterance, something would feel… missing, incomplete.

So, they said it. Just two whispered syllables exchanged under the cover of darkness.

Besides, why would saying "Goodnight" mean anything?

Did a goodnight wish signify affection?

If that were the case, then by Leon’s logic, the childhood donkey he'd often wished goodnight would’ve turned into an alluring donkey woman and seduced him into a forbidden love story by now. …Clearly absurd.

Shaking off the wild tangent in his mind, Leon gently closed his eyes, waiting patiently for the dragoness beside him to drift off.

The room fell silent. After some time, Leon gauged that Roswitha had likely fallen asleep.

Without moving or raising his head from the pillow, he discreetly glanced toward the wall clock. Two fifteen in the morning. Surely, by now, the queen was fast asleep.

Quietly, Leon prepared for action.

Pressing his lips together, he cautiously opened his mouth, intending to test the waters with a question that would confirm her slumber status.

But before he could speak, a voice emerged from the pillow beside him:

“Leon, are you still awake?”

Startled, Leon internally cursed but responded in a groggy tone, "No... I'm half-asleep..."

“Oh, okay.”

Ten minutes later.

“Leon, are you awake?”

“Not really…”

“Alright.”

Another ten minutes passed.

“Leon, are you awake?”

“Say what you want to say.”

“...Nothing. Just checking.”

Another ten minutes rolled by.

“Leon, are you still—”

"No."

"Oh."

Roswitha glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost 2:30 in the morning.

Why is this irritating man still not asleep? Come on, hurry up! I've saved up so many questions to ask!

Meanwhile, inside Leon's mind: What's up with this dragoness? Did she drink too much coffee? Can't fall asleep?

No, that’s not it.

Leon’s brain started working rapidly.

At this time of night, Roswitha would normally already be fast asleep.

And even if she wasn’t, there was no reason for her to keep asking Leon if he was still awake. Once Leon answered, she didn’t follow up with anything.

Doesn’t this suggest... that Roswitha really wants him to be asleep right now? So that she could do some sort of "shady" thing?

Leon grew alert, plotting that if Roswitha asked again, he would just pretend to be asleep.

Let’s see what exactly she’s planning.

A little while later, as expected, Roswitha’s voice came again. "Leon, Leon, are you asleep?"

Leon kept his eyes closed and didn’t respond.

“Oh ho~ Asleep.”

There came a rustling sound from the blanket. The beauty lying next to him slowly sat up, her silver eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

"Guess I’ll just... help myself then~"

Leon: ?

Evil Dragoness, What Are You Up To!