As the saying goes, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Although this pair of so-called ill-fated lovers never experienced the sweetness of a honeymoon, the brief separation over the past few days had proven to be perfectly timed.

From the subtle glimmer of genuine emotion revealed during their farewell, to the longing for each other reaching just the right level after several days apart, and finally to their reunion in the rain—it all fit together seamlessly, step by step, with nothing missing.

And after the gradual emotional buildup, it was time to transform all those days of accumulated longing into action.

Outdoors. Under the open sky. Clothes scattered across the grass.

Roswitha was leaning against a bush, the rough texture of its branches brushing against her tender back. From this perfect vantage point, she could admire Leon's resolute and handsome face to her heart's content.

The more she looked, the more captivated she became. How could someone on this earth look so flawlessly perfect? Every inch of skin, every scar, and every line deeply resonated with Roswitha's aesthetic taste.

She raised her hand to brush against the man's face, her palm meeting his scorching warmth.

Their silver and black eyes locked on each other. Roswitha's ruby lips parted slightly, her voice soft as a whisper.

"Kiss me."

She didn't pull Leon's head towards her with any force; she simply let her hand rest on his face, waiting for him to lean in willingly.

Leon also lifted his hand, gently placing it over Roswitha's.

"Do you want me to kiss you that much?"

"Don't you want to?"

"Hasn’t what we’ve already done... been enough to satisfy you?"

As his voice lingered in the air, he followed up with a decisive and intensified "direct hit."

Roswitha could keenly feel the intensity that Leon brought into their interactions.

This level of intensity? Yes, she was completely satisfied.

Over the course of their relationship, though the two had always walked the path of mutual torment, it didn’t mean they were unaware of each other's "tolerance limits."

As they say, practice makes perfect.

But of course, a woman always wants more.

Roswitha furrowed her beautiful brows, her cheeks flushed red. Her fingers lightly traced Leon's lips.

"I'm telling you to kiss me. Stop wasting time with unnecessary words."

"And that's the attitude you take when asking someone for a favor? Hmm?"

When ‘The Calligrapher’ Leon was in his element, his technique turned bold and relentless—like ink bleeding through parchment, leaving no room for resistance.

Leon was well-versed in how to handle Roswitha, and Roswitha knew his tricks all too well.

Whenever Leon felt he had the pinnacle of domestic authority, any request or demand Roswitha voiced would become a game where he’d "fish" for her attentions, dragging things out with deliberate hesitation and peppering their interactions with teasing rhetorical questions.

And each time one of these teasing exchanges ended, it would inevitably be accompanied by an intensified flourish befitting a masterful “Calligrapher.”

Roswitha knew him too well, and she willingly watched her endearing captive pour his soul into his art.

“So, what attitude do you want me to have? Should I… call you ‘husband’?” Roswitha said with a smile, her delicate face tinged with an enchanting pink that added layers of allure to her smirk.

Leaning down, Leon brought himself face to face with Roswitha. Their breaths mingled as he gazed into her quivering silver eyes, lowering his voice.

“Call me, little dragoness.”

Roswitha's lips curled into a playful grin as she lightly pinched Leon’s ear, leaning closer. "I... refuse."

Before Leon could retaliate, Roswitha gently opened her mouth and, with her teeth, cautiously nibbled at his earlobe.

The sensation was faintly ticklish, laced with a slight tinge of pain.

Naturally, Leon wasn’t one to let such provocations slide.

For someone known as the most formidable Dragon Slayer, his stamina recovered astoundingly fast. Just hours ago, he'd been sitting under the rain like a completely drained warrior. Yet now, he’d seemingly rebuilt his strength to full capacity.

Truly, the title of “strongest Dragon Slayer” was well-deserved, whether on the battlefield or in more... intimate duels. His prowess left dragons everywhere bemoaning their fate.

The Silver Dragon Queen had held out as best she could, but in the end, she had no choice but to surrender.

“I was wrong… I was wrong, Leon… I won’t do it again…”

Under normal circumstances, there was no way she’d yield so easily.

But then she thought: they’d been married for so long. This rare moment of rekindled passion after time apart was a perfect opportunity for her to play the part of a soft, vulnerable wife, letting her dumb captive indulge in the illusion of being the head of the household.

And as expected, her plans came to fruition. The Dragon Slayer hero was so pleased he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Now you know you were wrong?”

“Yes, yes... I won’t demand that you kiss me anymore…” This rare, pitiful expression of the Silver Dragon Queen was enough to make the man atop her utterly bewitched.

Leon reached out, brushing aside the sweat-dampened locks clinging to Roswitha's face. His fingertips lingered along her cheek, his ragged breath grazing her skin, heady with the intoxicating allure of his hormones.

He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on her burning lips.

After the brief kiss, Leon pulled back slightly and said nothing, staring into Roswitha’s eyes.

Roswitha stared back, understanding his intent instantly.

Oh, he was trying to act all composed now, was he?

Fine, fine, let him savor this momentary façade of dignity. After all, once this moment passed, there’d be no more chances.

Blushing, she averted her gaze like a timid newlywed bride.

“Husband.”

“Look at me and say it.”

Ugh~

Childish man.

With no other option, Roswitha turned her gaze back to Leon, seriously yet dramatically repeating herself.

“Hus~band~”

Ah—now that was satisfying.

Since he had gotten what he wanted, Leon decided not to let the little dragoness suffer any longer and moved on to the next steps with perfect composure.

Times like these were all about mutual care, weren’t they?

Roughly an hour later, a flock of birds in the mountain forest was startled into flight by a heart-wrenching, soul-stirring roar from the Dragon Queen.

Having shared their passionate moment beneath the heavens, the couple now lay on the grass, basking in the afterglow.

Outdoors and in broad daylight, even in an unpopulated area, the sense of shame swept over them once their “assignment” was done.

Roswitha hurriedly threw her dress back on and leaned against the bush wearily.

By now, Leon’s shirt had already dried by the campfire. Retrieving it from a tree branch, he slipped it on and came to sit beside Roswitha.

The aftermath of such blissful moments typically meant lighthearted chatter, a way to pass the time and recover their strength.

“So, did you catch the traitor during this trip?” Roswitha asked.

Leon nodded. “I caught them. It was—”

“Don’t say it! Let me guess!” Roswitha interrupted, suddenly brimming with curiosity.

Leon smirked and turned his gaze to her.

Perhaps unintentionally, the smile carried a hint of “indulgence” in Roswitha’s eyes, as if he enjoyed humoring her in this simple yet childish guessing game.

“Alright, go ahead and guess,” Leon said.

Roswitha pondered for a moment. “Was it that female gunner?!”

Leon lowered his brows. “Why do you sound so eager, like you’re hoping it was her, instead of just guessing?”

Roswitha huffed. “What? I’m just guessing randomly! What does it matter who I pick? So, was I right or not?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, what a pity.”

Leon: ?

She really did wish Rebecca was the traitor, didn’t she? Silver Dragon Queen? More like Silver Dragon Jealous Queen!

“Then… the young lord from the minister’s family?” she asked.

Leon shook his head. “It was that perennial second-place guy.”

“Oh~~ And how did you deal with him?”

Leon mimed a gun with his fingers and pointed to his temple.

“Bang~”

Roswitha chuckled. “Didn’t feel a bit sorry?”

“Why should I?”

“Well, he was once your comrade.”

“This kind of matter… As a ruler, you should understand better than I do, shouldn’t you? Betrayers cannot be allowed to live.”

Roswitha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nodding in agreement.

When one held power, the risk of betrayal naturally increased.

Over the years of her reign, Roswitha had encountered her fair share of such incidents as well.

Her earlier question was merely a probe into Leon’s state of mind.

If the Dragon Slayer Hero had shown signs of emotional turmoil, she was prepared to console him with the wisdom gained from her century of experience.

But thankfully, Leon consistently proved to be stronger—even more "resilient"—than she'd expected... in every regard.

After discussing the traitor, Leon asked, “Shall we head home now? Noa and the others haven’t seen us in days—they must be worried.”

“Alright,” Roswitha agreed.

She got to her feet, brushing the dust from her dress, a hint of anticipation in her tone. “I imagine as soon as we get back, the girls will be rushing to us for hugs.”

Having given birth to two children, Roswitha’s maternal instincts had softened her considerably.

Which was a good thing. It was far better than the cold, emotionally inaccessible persona she used to project.

Hmm—did this mean Leon might have a chance at convincing her to try for baby number three?

After all, their second child, Aurora, still carried strong Dragon Clan traits, a clear indicator that Leon’s prenatal education plan had been a complete failure.

So, if Leon wanted a child who leaned more toward humanity, his hopes could only rest on a third attempt.

Well, it was just a passing thought for now.

Trying for a third child sounded appealing, but the ten months of carrying a dragon baby would be an enormous challenge.

It required careful consideration.

After tidying themselves up, the couple began the journey back to Silver Dragon Castle.

“So, who do you think the kids will hug first—me or you?” Leon asked.

“Of course, me,” Roswitha replied.

“Impressive. I admire that blind confidence of yours.”

“Blind confidence? Hmph. Just wait and see—our daughters will absolutely run to me first.”

Exactly. This was the thrill Leon lived for. A single day without squabbling with this dragoness, and the man felt restless to his core!

Bantering all the way, the two made their way back to Silver Dragon Castle.

The front courtyard of the sanctuary was quiet. Only a few patrolling guards were visible, but not a single maid was in sight.

Roswitha frowned slightly. "Strange, at this hour, Anna and the others should already be up and working. Why is no one around?"

Leon shrugged. "Maybe they’ve gotten lazy during the time you’ve been away from home."

Roswitha shot him a glare. "I trust my staff. They’ve always been very diligent with their work."

That was true. The employees under a workaholic boss were, if not outright workaholics themselves, at least highly dependable in their dedication to work.

The two didn’t linger in the courtyard for long. They entered the sanctuary, went upstairs, and knocked on the door to their daughters’ room.

No response.

Leon tried turning the doorknob. The door opened.

The couple exchanged glances, nodded in silent understanding, and then pushed the door open.

"Noa, Muen, are you in here? Mom and Dad are back!"

Still, no response.

Leon and Roswitha walked through the entryway and hallway but didn’t see their two daughters or their youngest child in the bedroom.

Just as they were wondering what was going on, they noticed wisps of smoke drifting up from the backyard.

The two hurried onto the balcony and looked out toward the yard.

There, all the maids were present, gathered together. Noa and Muen stood in front of a firepit, murmuring something to each other.

Muen was even holding a plate of grilled steak in her hands.

Roswitha couldn’t make sense of the scene. "What are they doing? A picnic?"

Leon, however, understood right away. He sighed and covered his face with his hand. "Ah, I just knew it!"