At this point, all three of Leon's beloved daughters had successfully enrolled in Saint Hiss Academy.

Their rigorous studies had begun, driven by the goal of eventually defeating more Dragon Slayers like their old father.

For some reasons, whenever Leon thought about this, a wave of inexplicable sadness swept through his heart.

He had thought that personally teaching Aurora, helping her storm through the entrance exams to achieve first place, only to watch her betraying him by excelling so fabulously—it was already the height of "filial piety" from his eldest daughter.

Little did he imagine that in a few years, when his daughters graduated, he might end up being their final "graduation project" target as well.

Ah, well.

Life goes in circles. There are twists and turns, but in the end, as long as the kids gain more skills, it can’t be a bad thing, right?

Today was a Monday, and all three daughters were away from home.

The next time they’d be together would be Friday evening.

In his entire life, Leon had been separated from his daughters this long only once before—when he first returned to the Empire to deal with traitors.

Aside from that, the father and daughters pretty much saw each other every day.

Now, with all his daughters suddenly gone, Leon found it a bit hard to adjust.

In the evening, Leon lay on the bench out on the balcony, gazing at the still night sky, wondering if his little treasures were also getting ready for bed around this time.

Before long, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

Roswitha strolled over to his side, placing two cups on the small wooden table nearby.

Leon glanced at them and said, "I don’t feel much like drinking tonight."

Alcohol, indeed, was a fine thing on occasion—it could dull worry and sadness temporarily.

But Leon didn’t intend to numb himself with it tonight. He didn’t mind letting himself steep in the yearning he felt for his daughters.

"It’s not wine—it’s tea."

"Tea? I’ve never seen you drink tea before."

Roswitha carried a pot of steaming hot tea and poured it into the cups.

The rising steam swirled lazily above the tea, and its fragrant aroma filled the air. Even an amateur could tell this was premium-quality tea.

"It’s a reward for this year’s model household. The Vice Principal specially applied for it from Principal Olette."

"...Well, I suppose trading one public humiliation for a good bag of tea isn’t a terrible deal."

Roswitha’s eyes gleamed as she raised two fingers. "Correction—not one instance, but two."

Leon arched an eyebrow. "Two?"

"Did you forget already? The other day, right after the interview concluded, you kissed me in front of everyone to prove to the Vice Principal how much you supposedly loved me. Doesn't that count?"

"..."

The queen smiled faintly as she settled into the chair beside him, lifting her teacup for a delicate sip.

The aroma was indeed delightful.

"Roswitha, why do I get the feeling that instead of being embarrassed by these moments, you seem... to enjoy them?"

Roswitha gazed out at the distant night view, specks of starlight reflecting in her silvery eyes. A faint smirk tugged at her lips. Casually, she asked, "Do I?"

"How could you not?"

Leon confirmed his conclusion with conviction, "Take the entrance ceremony the other day for instance—when I leaned in to kiss you, you didn’t even put up any resistance!"

Roswitha leisurely turned her head to meet Leon’s eyes. "What? Are you telling me you actually *wanted* me to resist your display of affection?"

"Uh, that’s..."

"Alright then. From now on, don’t touch me. Not even holding hands, okay?"

"That—no, that won’t do..."

"Hmph, idiot."

The word "idiot" was spoken so crisply and with such precision. She took another sip of tea, then went back to admiring the nightscape.

After a brief silence, Leon spoke again.

"I think I understand now."

"Oh? What have you figured out?"

"You just enjoy publicly flaunting our relationship. Isn’t that it?"

"Do I?"

"Yes," Leon affirmed with unwavering certainty.

"I won’t admit to that, hehe."

"Hey, you!—"

Of course, she would never admit he was right.

Naturally, though, Roswitha hadn’t tried very hard to hide her little scheme.

She *wanted* Leon to figure it out—

So she could deny it.

That way, she could savor the sight of him grappling with disbelief, frustration, and yet complete helplessness.

It was endlessly endearing. She could never get enough of this man’s expressions.

Leon, quick to catch on, immediately realized the mother dragon’s intentions.

"For a mother of three, how are you still this viperous?"

"Hah, don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t being viperous."

"Then what is it?"

"Spicing things up."

Leon twitched slightly at the boldness of her words. "S-Spicing things up..."

"That’s right. Relationships need a little spice to keep the spark alive."

She turned her body slightly, resting her chin on one hand as she looked at him.

Her silver eyes twinkled, and paired with that seductive smile, she was effortlessly alluring.

"Even a pretend marriage deserves its share of spice," she murmured.

"...Childish."

Childish, huh? She didn’t deny it.

After a whole day of being a dutiful queen, what harm was there in indulging in a little childishness at night?

Besides, it wasn’t like the man was some stranger. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Finish your tea. There’s another activity waiting for us after this."

"Another activity?"

"Of course. The night is long, little lion. We’ve got plenty of time to kill."

Leon glanced at the tea on the table, wondering: could tea *actually* make someone drunk?

If it couldn’t, what on earth was causing the mother dragon to get fired up again?

Well, seeing as the girls weren’t around tonight, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to play along and see just how her antics would unfold.

Leon downed the tea in one gulp.

"Alright, lead the way."

Roswitha rose, padding toward the bedroom in her dragon wing slippers.

Leon, though confused, followed her lead after a slight delay.

When they got to the bedroom, Leon reached to switch on the lights, but Roswitha stopped him.

"Wait—don’t use that switch."

Instead, she located a different one, flicked it on, and instantly bathed the room in a warm amber glow.

The light was soft, dim, and atmospheric—some might even call it intimate.

It exuded the exact vibes one might expect for a romantic evening.

Leon crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorframe.

"Is this cheap trick supposed to impress me? Come on, we’re an old married couple by now. Where’s the *surprise*?"

After living with the mother dragon for so long, General Leon had seen every kind of scene one could imagine.

Did Roswitha really think a mere lighting switch was enough to throw him off?

What a joke.

"Be patient, will you?"

As she spoke, Roswitha ambled over to a phonograph in the corner of the room.

She turned it on, and soft, graceful music began to fill the space.

"What type of music do you like?"

"You pick. I’m not much of an art enthusiast, anyway."

That much was true—Leon lacked artistic leanings. Still, he had a vague recollection of certain melodies from his youth.

His old master owned a phonograph, which his master’s wife loved to use. Their home was always stocked with a variety of records, many featuring obscure compositions.

Mostly symphonies, the kind appreciated only by royalty and nobility.

Leon never understood why his master’s wife enjoyed such highbrow tunes, but if she listened, so did he.

"Hm... let’s try this one first."

Roswitha swapped in another record.

The somber resonance of a serious, forceful symphony echoed through the room.

Leon thought it sounded familiar.

With a bit of mental effort, he recognized it. "Isn’t this the work of a renowned composer from the Empire?"

"Indeed. Color me impressed you could tell."

Leon shrugged. "It’s not that hard."

"Hmph. Let’s try another, then."

She changed the record again.

Leon once more identified it as an composition of the Empire.

Over and over, Roswitha tested him with different pieces, but Leon correctly guessed the origins of each one without fail.

"Roswitha, don’t tell me tonight’s thrilling activity is 'Name That Tune'? If so, this is way too easy—you’re going to lose for sure."

Roswitha raised an elegant eyebrow. Oh? Leon had reverted to his old habit of treating everything between them as a competitive "match."

Well then… how delightful.

She absolutely adored demolishing Leon’s confidence when he seemed oh-so-sure of his impending victory.

Some things about her fondness for Leon hadn’t changed at all over the years.

"Ah, seems like you’re too good at this. I’ve only got one record left—let’s see if you can figure it out."

"Bring it on—I’m unbeatable!"

"Oh my, that competitive spirit of yours really is insatiable. But you know, it’s not exactly a virtue~"

"Coming from you? That’s rich. You only ever remind me of virtues when you’re losing, don’t you?"

"Hehe… Shall we wager something, as we always do?"

Leon smirked with the confidence of someone who’d already won. "Fine by me. What’s the bet?"

"Simple: one favor. Haven’t we always played it this way?"

"Deal."

Roswitha’s lips curled in satisfaction as she placed the final record on the phonograph.

The opening notes played, and Leon’s brows furrowed slightly.

This tune was drastically different from the previous ones.

It was brighter, more cheerful—not a symphony, but more akin to... a waltz.

Leon racked his brain, determined to pinpoint where he’d heard it before.

He definitely recognized this song—it wasn’t from his master’s phonograph, though.

But where...? Where had he come across it...?

"Having trouble, the Empire Music Encyclopedia?" Roswitha teased.

"Don't rush, let me listen to it again."

However, even as the piece finished playing, Leon still couldn't recall where he had heard it before, let alone remember the composer or the title.

Click—

Roswitha turned off the phonograph, then crossed her arms and leaned lightly against the edge of the table.

She tilted her head slightly, her silver hair cascading down. "This teaches us an important lesson: never boast before you've secured your victory, isn't that right, little lion~?"

Leon’s expression darkened.

Damn it, he had been tricked by this dragoness again.

How did she manage to pick such an obscure piece?

Leon **had** heard it before, but he just couldn't remember where.

As he mulled it over, Roswitha began to slowly take off her shoes. Her fair, delicate bare feet stepped softly as she approached him.

Standing before Leon, she raised her slender arms and gently wrapped them around his neck.

"What... is your request?"

"No rush. Before that, let me help you recall this piece of music."

Moonlight poured in, bathing the queen’s cascading hair as though it were a shimmering galaxy streaming from the heavens.

"At the graduation ball of the Empire's Dragon Slayer Academy, you accepted an invitation to dance with a senior. She was the only girl among all those you rejected that made you hesitate a little."

"Because you were drawn to her looks. But after brief contact, you realized that her inner self wasn’t what you were looking for."

"And the dance you had with her at graduation—that was the final piece played."

"It seems your impression of the senior lingered far longer than your memory of the music~"

"Now then~ Husband, are you ready?"

"I'm going to make some trouble."