Day by day, and the war's negative impact with Constantine gradually faded away.

Everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction—at least, for the Silver Dragon Clan.

But for Leon, life hadn’t changed much.

If anything, the arrival of his youngest daughter had only made him busier.

If one really has to put it into words, it was the arrival of his youngest daughter that made him a bit busier.

Until he began to notice that Roswitha's emotions seemed to grow increasingly gloomy with each passing day.

At first, it was she who suggested restoring the morale of the Silver Dragon Clan, even going so far as to organize a bonfire gathering for the occasion.

Thanks to her efforts and encouragement, the Silver Dragon Clan slowly but surely found their footing, and the operation of the entire clan returned to normal.

But Roswitha, the one who orchestrated all this, appeared to be moving in the opposite direction of the positive momentum.

Leon could feel it—her sadness and worry weren’t caused by work-related stress.

Something was troubling her.

Over the past few days, Roswitha's emotional state had worsened.

Sometimes, she even deliberately avoided Leon.

This left Leon confused.

Had he said something wrong that might have offended her?

It didn’t make sense—they knew each other well, knew each other’s boundaries, and would stop themselves before crossing any serious lines.

Besides, if she were really upset, given her personality, she’d either resolve the issue on the spot or deal directly with Leon. She wouldn’t sulk silently for days on end like this.

After much hesitation, Leon decided to talk to her.

It was early evening, still some time before dinner. Roswitha had wrapped up her day's work and was sitting alone on the swing in the backyard.

The setting sun stretched her shadow long across the ground. Her silver hair swayed gently in the evening breeze, and her beautiful face bore a heavy sorrow.

The swing barely moved; a faint creaking sound came from the chain and wooden seat as they rubbed against each other.

Her silver eyes stared at the ground as her thoughts drifted to a distant past.

"I want you to promise me one thing: for one year, don't let Leon return to the Empire."

That was what she had agreed upon with Tiger during their meeting.

At the time, Roswitha had no intention of letting Leon go, not even for a year.

Even if it were ten years, or a hundred years, she had every intention of keeping Leon by her side, making him her prisoner for life.

This was her punishment for the arrogant human who had dared to offend her.

However, over time, as so many things had transpired, her relationship with Leon had begun to shift subtly.

Neither of them had sought to understand the other through the lens of their respective races, as no single individual could ever represent an entire species.

They only tried to understand the other as an individual.

The more time they spent together, the more Leon's image in Roswitha's heart diverged from what it had been at the start.

In the past, she had seen him only as an enemy—a despicable bastard determined to disgust her even in the face of death.

But with the growth of their daughters, her own long months of pregnancy, and ultimately the birth of their second child, Leon's more admirable qualities had gradually emerged.

Responsibility, reliability, integrity.

Among everyone Roswitha had ever encountered, Leon embodied these three traits better than anyone else.

There was no doubt—he was an excellent father. And as a stand-in husband, he was remarkably qualified as well.

His love was pure. When he chose to immerse someone in his love, that person undoubtedly became the happiest in the world.

From the very start, he had never scorned their daughters for being mixed-blood children of himself and his enemy. Instead, he had loved them unreservedly, doing his utmost for them.

His youngest daughter was still too young to discuss, but Noa and Muen had grown to bask in their father's profound love.

Roswitha could clearly feel how different the two young sisters were compared to other dragonlings.

They enjoyed life more, loved it more, and had a much stronger concept of "family" than their peers.

It was a kind of sentiment that most in the Dragon Clan lacked.

Roswitha knew all of this was Leon's doing.

If it had been up to her alone, the girls might still be addressing her as "Her Grace Mother" in a distant and formal tone.

He had long ceased being just a prisoner to become an integral part of their "family."

Yet after the battle with Constantine, one mystery after another had unfolded, all of it somehow tied to Leon's master and the agreements they had made.

Roswitha had an unsettling sense that far away in the human Empire, a silent battlefield awaited Leon.

Rationally, he needed to return there to unravel these enigmas that had surfaced.

Emotionally, Tiger's movements would likely also require Leon's cooperation and support.

Now, the one-year agreement she had made with Tiger had come to an end.

This was the real reason behind her recent melancholy.

Even though she’d already made up her mind, she had spent these days lost in meaningless internal conflict.

Keeping silent served no purpose.

Deliberately avoiding the issue wouldn't work for long either.

Eventually, Leon would find out. Eventually, he would leave this place.

"Ah..."

She sighed, her umpteenth sigh of the day, each one heavier than the last.

Creak—creak—

Suddenly, her back was gently pushed, and the swing began to sway again.

A large, slightly cool hand—there was no need to turn around; she already knew it was Leon.

She had been so focused on her memories that she hadn’t even realized when Leon had arrived behind her.

"Is this fun, Your Majesty?" Leon asked, continuing to push the swing.

Roswitha gripped the swing's chains tightly. Her silver hair streamed back and forth in the wind. Lowering her eyes, she let the rhythm of the swing wash over her before finally speaking in a low tone, "Why are you here?"

"I’ve noticed you've been in a bad mood lately. Did something happen?"

"No."

Her answer was cold and distant.

It was common knowledge that when a woman said she wasn’t upset, it rarely meant she wasn’t upset.

Until they lashed out in frustration, their "anger" was like like unopened mail in its box—without opening it, you wouldn’t know if that pent-up feelings was alive or dead.

"Come on, tell me. Is it... postpartum depression?"

"No. It has nothing to do with having the baby."

"Oh... So it’s about me, then?"

Roswitha closed her eyes. Sometimes, she wished he weren’t so sharp.

Seeing her stay silent, Leon knew he had hit the mark.

Gently placing his hands behind her back, he gradually brought the swing to a halt, then walked around to face her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, tell me, Your Majesty, what exactly did I do to upset you?"

Sitting on the swing, Roswitha raised her gaze.

The evening sunlight cast its glow across Leon’s figure, and the escaping rays painted highlights onto the contours of Roswitha’s face.

He stood straight, the line of his sight falling above hers.

Their eyes met, neither of them looking away.

The scene reminded Roswitha of that moment three years ago in the dungeon, when Leon had also stared her down in this way.

Only now, the coolness of the evening breeze was far more pleasant than the damp chill of the dungeon.

He still carried that same rugged handsomeness, with the scars on his face exuding a raw masculinity unique to him.

Roswitha opened her mouth, intending to take this opportunity to tell him everything about the one-year agreement with Tiger.

There was no need... to keep hiding it any longer.

But just as she was about to speak, Muen's voice suddenly rang out from a distance:

"Papa! Mama! Time to eat~ Big Sis said if you keep being lovey-dovey out there, we’re going to start without you!"

Leon turned and shouted back, "Tell your sister that if she keeps spying on Mom and Dad, Dad won’t teach her magic anymore!"

As soon as he said that, Noa bolted out from behind the bush near Muen, clutching her curls and raising her tail in defense, yelling, "That’s absolutely unacceptable, Papa!"

Leon chuckled before turning his attention back to Roswitha.

"Come on, let’s go eat."