More than half a month had passed since the incident with Maureen, yet Leon still found no other clues about the collaboration between the Empire and the Dragon Clan.

He had asked Roswitha when the internal turmoil of the Scarlet Flame Dragon Clan might settle down a bit.

He was eager to investigate the scarlet dragon from Maureen's memory—the one who used to be with Constantine.

But Roswitha told him that, in the short term, you shouldn’t consider this route and advised him to focus on other angles.

Other angles?

As good as zero.

Frustrated, Leon had no choice but to temporarily put his investigation on hold.

And as everyone knows, when serious business has to be halted, the excess energy people have often finds its way into peculiar pursuits to keep them occupied—

No, this wasn’t about turning in homework.

Don’t overthink it—you just sound silly facing the wall!

Actually, this had something to do with Aurora.

Aurora had been born over a month ago, and for the past few days, no matter where Leon went, he would take her along.

Mysterious, right?

Roswitha, at times, secretly trailed him to see what he was up to with his precious baby daughter.

What she discovered was that the overwhelming majority of Leon’s words to Aurora during the whole day were:

"Aurora, be good. Call me Daddy."

This reminded Roswitha of a dispute she and Leon had had earlier—the one about whether Aurora’s first words would be "Daddy" or "Mommy."

Judging by the timeline, it was indeed almost time for the young dragon to utter her first words.

Roswitha understood: the cheeky man was preparing beforehand, paving the way in advance.

And if that’s the case... how could Roswitha let Leon prevail so easily?

Aurora’s first words had to be "Mommy"!

Ah, what memories—here they were again, competing for the upper hand in their household dynamic.

But Roswitha was busy during the day with work, and by night she didn’t have much spare time for childcare. Statistically, Aurora was spending at least half her day with Leon.

Even the most independent and resistant little dragon probably couldn’t endure twelve hours of "Say Daddy" brainwashing a day, right?

So, as the first step of her plan, Roswitha aimed to separate Leon from Aurora.

The plan was clear, and execution was surprisingly simple.

That morning, Roswitha was as usual working in the grand hall of the sanctuary, going over her daily tasks.

Before long, hurried footsteps rang out.

"Where’s my Aurora? Where’s my big Aurora gone?" Losing the baby, General Leon was understandably anxious.

Roswitha remained calm, casually tidying her hair as she focused on her desk work without even lifting her head. “I asked Sherry to take Muen and Aurora to the back hills for some fun.”

Noa had started school, so now the family only had their second daughter and the youngest at home.

Upon learning where the youngest daughter was, Leon didn’t linger any longer—he turned around to leave.

"Where are you going?" Roswitha asked.

"To find Muen and Aurora."

"Don’t go."

"Why?"

Roswitha blinked her lovely eyes. She certainly couldn’t tell Leon outright, “I don’t want you spending time alone with Aurora” to expose her intention, so she opted for a different explanation.

"You’ve been spending all your time lately with the kids, and not with me. I’m bored."

"What good does spilling your dramas in my Silver Dragon Castle do for you?"

After a moment of deliberation, Roswitha set down her pen and stood up, vacating her seat.

"Leon, you sit."

Leon: ?

"What are you doing? You trying to test me, huh? I’m not falling for it."

Leon’s mind worked quickly. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. The moment I sit down, you’ll accuse me of being guilty of ‘usurping power.’ Silly dragon, such a lame trick!”

Roswitha froze, her delicate, innocent expression filled with confusion.

What kind of dirty political schemes was he even talking about, Castmod?

Following Roswitha to learn about power dynamics, and this is what he picked up on? All sorts of nonsensical things?

"Not at all. Look, you’re my husband—"

"Fake husband," Leon corrected.

"OK, OK, fake husband, but in the eyes of Anna and the others, you’re the true Duke."

Roswitha carefully reasoned with him, “So what’s the big deal if the Duke sits on the throne for a moment? Even if I wanted to pin a ‘power usurping’ charge on you, it wouldn’t hold water, right?”

Hmmm~

The mother dragon’s words carried some sensibility.

Leon sneaked a glance at her Silver Dragon King throne—it certainly looked expensive.

For all his years conquering battlefields as Castmod the general, killing more dragons than pigs, he’d still never actually sat on a Dragon King’s throne before.

Well then.

Since Roswitha was graciously inviting him today, Leon figured he’d try it out—see for himself if this seat was really worth all the Dragon Clan fighting over.

He put his hand on the armrest of the throne and cautiously sat down.

The seat beneath him still carried some heat—the warmth left behind by Roswitha.

But to be honest, the throne wasn’t all that comfortable.

It was actually kind of hard.

Seated, Leon faced the grand entrance to the Silver Dragon Castle. The expansive and opulent hall unfolded before him with nothing left unseen.

This... was the view the Silver Dragon Queen had every day.

Magnificent, yet tinged with monotony.

His gaze shifted back to the desk in front of him.

The fine mahogany desk was piled high with numerous work documents and logs, almost forming a small mountain.

This sight stirred memories within Leon.

He recalled the victory banquet they’d had after defeating Constantine. Roswitha, tipsy, had come over to chat with him.

She told him that the throne was like a massive cage, and that she—a queen—was imprisoned by it.

Back then, Leon hadn’t fully grasped the meaning behind her words.

But now, he was starting to understand what it felt like to be a king.

Or rather, the cost of being one.

No wonder his mentor had once advised him to steer clear of the world of rulers and decision-makers—better to obediently serve as a small cog in the machine.

“How does it feel?” Roswitha asked as she stood nearby.

“Feels… meh, I guess.”

Leon couldn’t quite describe the emotions stirred while sitting on the throne.

He felt a mix of confusion, oppression, and... perhaps even a bit of... well, tenderness toward Roswitha?

He guessed he could describe the sentiment as “tenderness.”

Even the word-rich General Leon couldn’t think of another term.

Caught in his thoughts, Leon suddenly felt a softness beside him.

Turning, he saw it was Roswitha, cuddling up and squeezing into the throne with him.

Leon shifted to the side to give her some space.

Husband and wife sat shoulder to shoulder, their legs pressed together. Even with Leon scooting over, the space was still tight.

Leon placed his hands on his knees, pursing his lips awkwardly. “Kind of… small, huh.”

“Indeed. When they crafted this throne, they didn't consider the possibility of me having a husband to sit here with, so it’s sized for just me.” Roswitha replied blandly.

After a pause, her mischievous grin emerged as she leaned in close to Leon, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, should we commission a bigger throne? Big enough that not only can we sit together but also… do other things on it?”