In the evening, Leon sat in Roswitha's study, flipping through an ancient document.

He hoped to find some clues about Primordial Magic within its pages.

However, most of the time, his efforts yielded little to nothing. Yet for now, this needle-in-a-haystack approach was the only method he had to understand Primordial Magic.

Soon, footsteps sounded at the doorway of the study. Roswitha stepped in, wearing slippers shaped like dragon wings.

She had just finished bathing. Her long silver hair was wet, cascading down her back. Her delicate white arms were glistening with lingering steam and droplets of water.

The Dragon Mark across her chest rose and fell with her breaths, teasing one's imagination.

A pleasant scent of roses wafted from her, filling the air.

Leon sniffed the air but didn’t look up. “Your Majesty has such refined tastes, bathing with rose petals.”

Roswitha walked over to the desk, stood on her tiptoes, and lightly perched herself on the edge of the desk. Her nightgown outlined her rounded curves. Her silver eyes dropped, focusing on Leon.

“I originally wanted to invite you to join me,” she said, “but then I thought of you tirelessly searching for clues about Primordial Magic to aid your beloved wife. So I couldn’t bear to interrupt you.”

Leon closed the book, finally raising his head to look at Roswitha. “Your invitation isn’t too late now.”

As he spoke, he gently placed his large hands on Roswitha’s legs.

Roswitha quirked an eyebrow and slowly extended her own hands.

Leon thought the dragon queen was responding to his flirtation, but to his surprise, she merely snapped her fingers against the back of his hands with a light smack, then said,

“Don’t touch me. Do you think the queen’s body is something you can touch casually?”

Leon chuckled and withdrew his hands. “I understand, Your Majesty—touching through clothes isn’t allowed.”

Roswitha clicked her tongue and swished her tail lightly against Leon's cheek. “Stop saying such ridiculous things as though our daily life is improper.”

Leon shrugged. “But didn’t you just say you wanted to invite me to bathe with you? Isn’t that improper?”

“I’m a woman. If a woman says such things, it is fine; if a man says it, it’s not allowed.”

“Well, you're not a woman, you dragoness; that’s just double standards.”

“What’s wrong with a woman being a little double-standard? I even delivered children for you!”

“As if you could have had them without me.”

“Our noble Dragon Clan can indeed reproduce on our own!”

Just like usual, the couple bickered back and forth. After trading a few remarks, Roswitha left Leon speechless.

One sat in the chair, with an ancient book in hand.

The other one leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, hair still glistening with droplets.

After a brief moment of looking at one another—a contrast of height and stance—they both burst into laughter simultaneously.

Leon set the ancient book down on the desk, then reached out and grabbed Roswitha’s wrist, pulling her toward him effortlessly.

Roswitha squirmed briefly for appearances’ sake, but she ultimately nestled obediently into Leon’s laps.

Leon wrapped his arms around her waist, playing with her damp silver locks as he asked,

“Where did you learn all this nonsense?”

“Just randomly picked up something bad while researching other cultures.”

Roswitha leaned comfortably against the strong and powerful body, casually swinging her calves and precariously balancing her slippers on the tips of her toes.

“Well, it may not be a proper theory, but as a girl, it’s quite satisfying to hear, don’t you think?”

The dragon queen, who had lived for over two hundred years, certainly won’t sway by that kind of trivial nonsense.

She just found it amusing. Perhaps using it to poke at her faux husband was proving to be quite entertaining.

And indeed, Roswitha had judged correctly.

That one playful jab landed with decades’ worth of precision, and not even General Leon could parry it.

Leon chuckled, shifting to discuss something more serious.

“By the way, about Noa's classmate—what’s your assessment?”

“What kind of assessment?”

“Well... I don’t really know much about Dragon Clan social dynamics, so from your perspective, Noa’s friend doesn’t seem problematic, does she?”

Roswitha blinked her striking silver eyes before nodding.

“Hmm, no problem.”

“It doesn’t involve any Dragon Clan diplomacy or...anything like that?”

“That depends on which Dragon Clan Helena comes from. If she’s from a faction notorious for instigating conflict, I’ll advise Noa to be cautious but won’t force her to sever ties.”

Roswitha wrapped her arms around Leon’s, lightly brushing his cheek with her thumb.

“Friends are hers to choose. No one else has the right to make decisions for her. Do you think so?”

“Oh, you’re quite open-minded.” Leon praised.

“I learned that from you.”

Roswitha lightly tapped her fingers against Leon’s chest.

“A daughter can only grow up healthy if her independence is respected.”

Leon laughed. “And yet, why don’t you seem to respect me?”

“Why should I respect a captive?”

“Alright, alright—’captive’ again. I’ve never seen a captive treated like this before.”

With that, he shifted his legs slightly, feeling Roswitha's full weight before hugging her even tighter.

Roswitha let out a faint snort. “Well, now you’ve seen it. In the Melkevi household, captives are treated just like this.”

After teasing for a bit, the conversation drifted back to Noa and Helena.

“Actually, I’m glad Noa has made a friend like Helena.”

Roswitha said, “That girl seems very grounded. There’s a sense of upbringing in her demeanor, which clearly shows she comes from a distinguished heritage. Plus, she’s older than Noa by a few years, so emotionally, she can look after Noa.”

That line hit the mark.

Leon nodded in agreement. “With Noa’s stubborn and reserved personality, finding emotional support is not a small task.”

“Exactly. That’s why we mustn’t meddle in our daughter’s friendship.”

Roswitha continued, “She has the ability to tell right from wrong. She knows who she can deeply bond with and who she should keep at a polite distance.”

“Hmm. But...”

Roswitha raised an eyebrow, “But what?”

“Well, Muen seems... a little bit strange? At dinner tonight, she deliberately had Noa cut her steak for her, and even gave Noa an unusually affectionate kiss.”

Leon pondered aloud, “Isn’t sisterly bonding usually reserved for when they're back in their rooms? Why start at the dinner table?”

Roswitha thought about it and admitted that Muen's behavior at dinner was indeed a bit unusual.

“Maybe young minds are just... hard to read sometimes.”

Roswitha suggested, “It could also be because Noa suddenly brought home a new friend unsettling her a bit?”

“You’re saying Muen might dislike Helena?”

“Well, ‘dislike’ might be too strong of a word. Muen's a good child; she doesn’t often harbor such negative emotions.”

Roswitha explained, “Once she gets familiar with Helena, things should smooth out.”

“Hmm, true.”

“Speaking of sisterly bonding... I was actually planning on taking the kids to visit my older sister this weekend.”

Roswitha glanced at a photograph on the desk—it was an old picture of her and Isa.

"Over the past few weeks, the Empire and Ravi stationed forces along the outskirts of the Red Dragon territory, intending to prevent my sister from aiding me. My sister has been engaged day and night in battles."

Roswitha’s voice softened, “Now that the crisis has temporarily subsided, I’ve been wanting to find some time to see her.”

“Alright...let’s schedule it for next week then,” Leon suggested.

Roswitha nodded but kept her gaze fixed intently on the photograph on the desk.

Noticing his wife’s mood turn slightly pensive, Leon thought for a moment. Then without hesitation, he scooped Roswitha up and headed for the study’s exit.

Roswitha was caught off guard at first and instinctively clung tighter to his arm.

“What are you doing?” Roswitha asked.

“Taking you to bed.” Leon replied, leaving the study and heading to the bedroom.

“I can walk myself. Put me down.”

Despite her words, Roswitha showed no sign of resistance, allowing herself to remain nestled in Leon’s arms.

Leon, aware of her subtle intentions, merely gave her a smile.

“How could the queen herself walk to the bedroom? That’s a task for her captive, isn’t it?”

Roswitha rolled her eyes at him playfully but stifled a grin at the corners of her mouth, not saying anything further.

The night deepened, and the two wished each other goodnight, embracing as they drifted off to sleep.