In the evening, in the study.

The couple was busy discussing how to share their romantic experiences with Roswitha's clans people tomorrow.

Leon was deeply skeptical about this action.

"Your clans people are sincerely seeking for advice, yet you're about to respond with your fake romantic experiences. I feel this is inappropriate."

"And where exactly do you expect me to find genuine romantic experiences at this point? I'll just make do with yours."

"How dare you! You brazen dragoness! I’m your legitimate husband. How could you say 'make do'?"

The queen folded her arms across her chest, arched an eyebrow, and teased, "A moment later it was 'fake romance,' and the next I'm your 'legitimate wife'? You sure switch narratives quickly, Casmode."

"I'm very capricious when it comes to interpreting the nature of our relationship."

Roswitha scoffed, shook her head, and waved him off. "Alright. No matter it's fake romance or legitimate spouses—call it what you want. Either way, we need to come up with something tonight. Otherwise, there'll be nothing to share tomorrow, and that'll dampen everyone's spirits, which won't do our grand plan of revitalizing the race any favors."

Leon leaned back in his chair, lazily crossing his legs. "So, where does Her Majesty want to start this brainstorming session?"

"I don't really understand what qualifies as 'normal' romance, to be honest... Let me check some novels."

With that, Roswitha walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed a few romance novels.

Romance novels these days weren't all that different from one another. They generally followed the same formula: meet, separate, reunite under coincidental circumstances, develop a connection due to some events, and finally hold hands, embrace, and kiss.

Flipping through the pages, Roswitha quickly realized that these classic romantic tropes didn't apply to her and Leon.

Their meeting and bonding were... absurd, to say the least.

So absurd, in fact, that even now, Roswitha sometimes found it hard to believe it had really happened.

"How on earth are we supposed to embellish the story of how we met to make it sound remotely acceptable?" she wondered aloud.

Leon furrowed his brows, thoughtfully stroking his chin. After a moment, he answered quite seriously, "Oh, that's easy. Just say you fell in love with me at first sight, relentlessly pursued me for two years, and I finally agreed. Then—"

"Spare me! Leon, do you mind telling me what material your face is made of? Because I’d love to use it to fortify the outer walls of my Silver Dragon Castle. It would be indestructible!"

Leon grinned, baring his teeth, and began analyzing the situation in earnest. "I'm not making this up, you know. Think back—what was the first thing you said when you saw me after walking into the prison?"

Roswitha blinked, trying to recall.

Bur before she could respond, Leon helpfully supplied the answer. "You said, 'What a ruggedly handsome man. That scar is the perfect accent for this face.' Am I wrong?"

Roswitha's cheeks turned crimson as she stammered, "I-I did say that... but so what?"

"So what? Come on, Your Majesty. You complimented my looks as soon as you laid eyes on me. If that's not love at first sight, then what is?" Leon argued, utterly self-assured.

"You...!"

Roswitha was so infuriated by this shameless scoundrel that she couldn't help but laugh.

She strode briskly over, reaching out to grab him by the neck. "I'm going to kill you right now! That smug face of yours will rest easy on its way to the netherworld!"

Though her grip wasn’t strong, Leon played along, gently holding her wrist and dramatically rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue to act like he was choking.

Roswitha shook him twice, still unsatisfied. She playfully punched his chest, half-laughing, half-scolding, "Come on, take this seriously. I really don’t have any ideas. Give me some inspiration!"

Leon set aside his playful demeanor, gave it some serious thought, and said, "Well, your clans people rarely interact with others, and most of them have never been in relationships. So, they’re probably really eager to experience romance."

"Mm-hm. And then?"

"Then we need to depict it as something as beautiful and grand as possible, without veering too far from reality."

The queen appeared thoughtful. "Oh~~ That’s what they call 'substitution,' right? I get it."

"Seems like all those novels you’ve read didn’t go to waste." Leon smiled approvingly.

Roswitha's silver tail twitched slightly behind her as she hummed in satisfaction.

But the next second, her smile froze.

Wait.

Hold on a moment.

How could she feel so utterly pleased just because of this small captive man’s compliment, which was satisfying enough to make her tail unconsciously wag?

Impossible. It had to be that she wasn’t in her usual state tonight. Yes, that must be it.

Lost in her own thoughts, she heard Leon continue, "From my perspective, our meeting and bonding aren’t the main points you need to share tomorrow. Because your clans people are all dating within their own close circles. They’ve lived together in the Silver Dragon Clan for decades, even centuries, and already know each other well. So, romantic stories about chance encounters and serendipity don’t really apply to them—wouldn’t you agree?"

"Mm~ You’ve got a point. So we should focus on the day-to-day aspects of relationships?"

"Exactly."

Leon nodded. "But even our way of getting along might not suit everyone, because people have different personalities and styles. So, 'getting along' doesn’t follow a universal template—it’s entirely about whether two individuals are compatible or not."

"Still, there’s one thing every couple must keep in mind when they interact."

Roswitha perked up. "And what's that?"

"Boundaries."

"Boundaries?"

"Yes."

Leon explained, "Think back to our earlier days, when we did everything we could to push each other’s buttons, trying to make the other uncomfortable or furious. But now, if you reflect on it, you’ll notice that, even during our most intense conflicts, neither of us ever crossed the line that would strike at the other person’s core."

"Give me some examples."

"Sure. Remember when you brought me back to the Empire? Outside in the woods, we, uh, did... that. Afterwards, we encountered a dragon-slaying party, right?"

Roswitha nodded.

"You could have eliminated that group right there and then. You’d already gathered the magical energy and were prepared to attack at a moment’s notice. But when I held you back, you stopped. Think back—why didn’t you go through with it?"

Roswitha propped her chin with one hand, reminiscing. After a brief pause, a sly smile curved her lips as she gazed into Leon’s eyes.

"I didn’t want to push you too far. Hah! Now that I think about it, it’s absurd. Even when I hated you to my very core back then, I still held back ever so slightly. I can’t even explain why. Got any other examples?"

Roswitha wasn’t someone who dwelled on the past.

The extended lifespans of the Dragon Clan made reminiscing an exhausting affair.

But when it came to memories with Leon, she found herself oddly enthusiastic.

From mortal enemies to "battle bedfellows," she was genuinely curious about what had brought about such a transformation.

"Plenty."

Leon smiled knowingly and continued, "Take, for instance, the first time I used the Dragon Mark to control you. That was in your chamber doorway. Your maid was just outside, and I ordered you not to make a sound. But if I wanted to utterly ruin your reputation, I could have simply opened the door. After all, I didn’t care what your clan thought of me at all."

Roswitha lightly kicked his knees. "Could you stop using such... shameful examples? Things like that should just get buried in the annals of history!"

Leon chuckled, gently grasping Roswitha's ankles and placing her dainty and delicate feet on his legs.

Roswitha didn't resist and allowed Leon to slip off her shoes.

The scoundrel played idly with her toes as he continued, "There are countless examples. Every time we tried to provoke one another, we still left a little room to breathe. Sure, this was partly because of our daughters. But if either of us were truly heartless and without boundaries, it wouldn’t matter how many daughters we had—we would just destroy each other regardless."

After a pause, Leon added, "By the way, your feet are so soft. Fun to play with."

Roswitha glared at him, exasperated. "… Is the sudden shift from 'relationship expert' to 'mad foot fetishist' not a bit too abrupt, my dear husband?"

Leon chuckled sheepishly, helped her slip her shoes back on, and gently lowered her feet back to the ground.

"All jokes aside," he said, "in my opinion, the most important thing for couples is to respect each other’s boundaries. No matter what happens, no matter how heated disputes may get, never hit where it truly hurts."

Roswitha nodded slowly. "You know, I always thought you were just a warrior who happened to be good at fighting. I didn’t expect you would have such a profound understanding of relationships."

As the matriarch of the dragon clan, Roswitha’s praise was as rare as a falling star, something to be treasured.

Leon instantly puffed up, basking in the glow of her compliment. "Well, naturally! Back when I was in school, I was the campus heartthrob, you know. Girls lined up just to have lunch with me."

"Oh?"

Roswitha leaned back slightly, gracefully crossed one leg over the other, and let her delicate toes slip out of her slipper. With teasing deliberation, her soft feet began sliding along Leon's thighs.

Leon thought she was about to reward him.

Ahem.

He wasn't particularly indulged in her feet, but who could say no to soft and dainty dragoness's feet?

But then, Roswitha's tone turned sly as she asked, "So… among those girls, was there a senior with silver hair?"

Leon froze.

Gosh.

What the hell—how did she know about that?!