When Roswitha returned to Silver Dragon Castle after her patrol at the border, it was already past 7 p.m.

Upon hearing the news of her grandmother's return, Roswitha rushed upstairs to the guest room without even eating dinner.

Anna remarked, "Your Majesty, there's no need to hurry like this."

Roswitha stopped in her tracks and asked why.

Anna smiled and said, "Because the prince has been accompanying the old lady all this time."

Roswitha gasped, immediately shifting from a "brisk walk" to a "light jog" and dashed up the stairs in the blink of an eye.

She left the head maid standing alone in the corridor, bewildered.

"What just happened? The prince is so eloquent, surely he can coax the old lady into a great mood, right?

"Then why does Her Majesty look so anxious?"

Sighing, unable to figure it out, Anna decided not to follow Roswitha. Instead, she instructed a few maids to prepare some supper.

"Her Majesty hasn’t eaten dinner yet. She’ll likely want something to eat after visiting her grandmother."

Meanwhile, on the third floor of the castle, Roswitha, in an uncharacteristically unqueenly manner, hiked up her skirt and hurried through the hallway. She finally stopped in front of the guest room.

Standing at the door, Roswitha closed her eyes, focusing on steadying her slightly chaotic and rapid breaths as well as calming her feelings of nervous excitement.

Excitement came from the fact that her grandmother, whom she hadn’t seen in fifty years, had come to visit her.

Nervousness, however, stemmed from the worry that a certain "dog-man" might have said something wrong that could arouse her grandmother’s suspicions.

Her and Isa's grandmother was a sharp, calculating elder.

To put it plainly, the combined cunning of both sisters was only a fair match against their grandmother.

And Leon?

Whether it was Roswitha or Isa, either one could easily match wits with General Lai.

But if her grandmother really wanted to pry information from Leon, she might only need an hour to find out something as trivial as the name of the donkey Leon kept back at his house.

That was Leon's private matter! Even Roswitha didn’t know the name of that donkey!

As her breathing stabilized and her emotions settled, Roswitha shook her head to rid herself of these chaotic thoughts. Finally, she slowly opened her eyes, raised her hand, and softly knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Hearing that voice, Roswitha froze.

It was her grandmother's voice.

Gripping her skirt and biting her lower lip, she still felt a bit uneasy.

Though the tone of her grandmother sounded calm and gentle, not at all as if she had uncovered Leon's human identity, Roswitha still didn't dare let her guard down.

She slowly pressed the door handle, pushed the door open inward, and then stepped inside.

Passing through the entryway, she reached the sitting room to find a familiar face seated on the sofa.

Seeing that it was her granddaughter who had arrived, her grandmother slowly stood up, a kindly smile spreading across her face as she looked at Roswitha. "It's been a long time, my dear Lo."

Roswitha's eyes glistened with tears, yet her lips curved into a matching smile. She swiftly stepped forward, opened her arms, and embraced her grandmother tightly.

"It's been so long, Grandma."

The granddaughter and grandmother hugged, momentarily oblivious to the other person present in the room.

Leon Casmode quietly sat on another sofa, silently watching the mother dragon and her grandmother embrace.

Suddenly, General Lai came up with an idea—

Why not take this opportunity to sneak away?

It wasn't that Leon feared "meeting the parents," but rather, the earlier process of doing so had been nothing short of socially excruciating.

Though the grandmother had maintained a kind facade during the hour that followed, and the questions she asked were mostly about trivial family matters, Leon still felt as though he were sitting on pins and needles, on pins and needles, with a bone stuck in his throat, and thorns pricking his back.

He had never felt an hour drag on for so long.

Nor had he ever wished this badly for Roswitha to come home sooner.

The sooner she returned, the sooner Leon would have an excuse to leave.

As for the reason for leaving? He could come up with one easily.

Dizziness, stomachache, cooking dinner, putting the kids to bed... whatever Leon decided to use would do!

After a brief internal struggle, Leon finally decided to make his escape.

He parted his lips, ready to use "soothing the kids to sleep" as his excuse.

But before he could even utter those words, Roswitha and her grandmother ended their hug and turned to look in his direction.

Leon panicked.

Great. If I don’t make my move now, there’ll be no chance to slip away!

"Um..." Leon stood up, ready to "cast the spell."

"Leon, sit back down. Let's continue our chat," the grandmother interrupted, utterly foiling his "preliminary incantation."

"Ah, this—"

"Leon, if Grandma asks you to sit, then sit down," Roswitha chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. "You've already been keeping her company for a while now. Why are you still this nervous?"

Leon studied Roswitha, his eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze shifted to her right hand.

She was subtly clutching the fabric of her skirt. Her tail, positioned behind her, was slightly coiled as well.

These were unmistakable signs of her being nervous. Leon knew her all too well.

Damn it. Here I am sweating bullets, and she’s calling me the nervous one? It’s blatant projection! Leon fumed internally.

But since both grandmother and granddaughter had asked him to stay, he could only suppress his reluctance and sit back down.

The grandmother and Roswitha also resumed their seats.

Roswitha sat beside her grandmother, grasping the elderly woman's hand. Her face and eyes couldn’t hide the longing she felt.

Leon rarely saw Roswitha openly show her emotions this freely.

It was clear she deeply cherished her grandmother.

"Lo, really, you've been married for three years now, and you didn't even tell me?" Her grandmother patted the back of her hand, glancing at Leon for a moment.

Roswitha blushed, lowering her head slightly. "I was just about to write you a letter when you returned."

Her grandmother smiled, gently brushing the tip of Roswitha’s nose with her finger. "Why so shy now?"

Leon, watching from the side, couldn’t help but have his eye twitch slightly.

Grandma, please. The reason your granddaughter's blushing isn’t shyness.

It’s obviously because she’s lying!

Had you not come back, not only would she not have told you she’d been married for three years, but even thirty years down the line, she probably still wouldn’t have mentioned it.

Of course, if it were me, I wouldn’t bring it up either. After all, a romance between a human and a dragon is far too taboo. Most wouldn’t be able to accept it. Leon scratched his temple, turned away, and decided to play dead.

Meanwhile, Roswitha, steering the conversation from the topic of marriage, shifted to Leon. She subtly probed her grandmother, trying to gauge whether Leon had let anything critical slip.

"By the way, Grandma, you wouldn’t happen to mind Leon’s background, would you?"

"His background? I don't mind it at all."

Her grandmother glanced at Leon, who was still in his "playing dead" mode, and gave him a once-over. "The young man is handsome and capable—it’s just a shame about the times he was born into."

From the sound of it, her grandmother didn’t seem to have figured out Leon’s human identity.

However, hearing her grandmother praise Leon this way still left Roswitha a bit stunned.

Her grandmother was not someone who gave out compliments lightly.

For her grandmother’s approval, one had to either be the crème de la crème among Dragon Kings or possess extraordinary academic achievements.

Neither of which this "dog-man" had achieved—

Though, to be fair, he had slain plenty of top-tier Dragon Kings, which could somewhat align with her grandmother's criteria for praise.

"But—"

With just a single "but," Roswitha’s heart, which had only just been eased, was once again on edge.

"But I didn’t expect you to like this type of man, Lo." Her grandmother’s tone was one of surprise, though insinuating no negative connotation in her remark about "this type."

Hearing this, Roswitha discreetly exhaled a sigh of relief. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear and gazed slyly at Leon.

"Leon, hmm, he’s a bit stubborn and somewhat childish," she began.

"He often likes to deliberately contradict me."

"Sometimes he can be so indecipherable, leaving people unsure whether he’s speaking the truth or lying."

"He’s full of little schemes but is quite reserved, dislikes communication, likes to act tough, and has a hint of that lone hero complex..."

Roswitha rattled off Leon's "flaws" as if reciting a shopping list.

The more she listed, the more energetic she became. At this rate, she might soon strip Leon of even his metaphorical undergarments.

Meanwhile, the longer Leon listened, the more wrong it felt.

Hah—

Mother dragon, so you’re using this opportunity to nitpick me, huh?

Alright, alright, if I have all these little flaws, then you—

"But I still like him very much."

The queen propped her chin up with one hand, gazing at Leon. Her cheeks were still tinged with a faint blush, and within those silver eyes of hers flickered a light that carried hints of intimacy.

Leon stared back at her, dumbfounded, blinking as a warmth suddenly filled his heart.

Was she truly taking this moment to air out his small flaws, or had it all been for—

That final sentence?