The next morning, Leon slowly woke up.

As his senses gradually returned to him, a wave of aches and soreness swept over his body.

He slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard, lowering his gaze. His arms and chest were covered in scratches and love bites.

Grabbing a mirror, he checked his reflection—his neck was full of similar marks.

"Last night was... intense."

It had been a long time since he and Roswitha had let go like that.

As for the main reason? Their daughters.

After all, they all lived on the same floor, not far from each other. If things got too turbulent, their precious girls would definitely overhear.

The thought of Aurora opening their door, her dazzling eyes full of curiosity as she asked, *"Daddy, Mommy, why aren’t you sleeping so late at night? What are you doing?"*—just imagining it was enough to make Leon think he'd rather be dragged onto the stage by Vice Principal Wilson and publicly humiliated ten times over.

But now, the girls were off at boarding school.

The entire floor of the sanctum belonged solely to the Queen and the Prince Consort.

They could do whatever they wanted in their bedroom—or even, heaven forbid, out in the hallway—

Ahem. The imagery was getting a little *too* explicit. Leon shook his head and quickly dispelled those wandering thoughts.

"You’re awake," Roswitha said, approaching the bedside.

Leon turned his head to look at her.

Her silver hair was pinned up neatly, and she was dressed in a practical outfit. She held a broom in one hand and wore a face mask.

"What’s this? Has the Queen been demoted to a maid?" Leon teased.

"Noa and the others are off at school now, so the sisters' room is unoccupied. I thought I’d take the opportunity to give it a thorough cleaning."

"Why not just have Anna send someone to handle it?"

Roswitha shook her head. "This is something I want to do as a mother for our daughters—not as a Queen."

She was the kind of person who did whatever she decided on, and not just half-heartedly—if she set her mind to something, she’d do it to perfection.

Leon scratched his head. "Alright... I’ll wash up and come help you in the sisters’ room. Let's tackle it together."

"Alright."

Roswitha turned and left, broom in hand, brimming with energy.

Leon rubbed his temples, which ached slightly. "Man, if I’d known we were doing a deep clean today, I wouldn’t have stayed up so late last night..."

That whole "seize the day" nonsense—men really can say the craziest things in order to do that. Leon Casmode thought to himself.

Throwing off the blanket, he got dressed, freshened up, and grabbed the cleaning supplies Roswitha gave him before heading to Noa and her sisters’ room.

When he got there, Roswitha had already opened all the windows to let the room air out.

She stood on the balcony, one hand holding the broom, the other on her waist. She was wearing flat shoes for once and had tied an apron around her waist—proper cleaning attire.

Clearly, Her Majesty was ready for business.

"Can I take a picture of you?" Leon asked with a grin.

"Why?"

"I’ve seen you in plenty of stunning outfits—queenly gowns, bunny suits, nurse uniforms... but I’ve never seen you dressed as a housekeeper. It’s kind of amusing."

Roswitha narrowed her eyes slightly. "Either start helping me clean this instant, or go down to the sanctum hall and take over Anna’s duties for the day."

Leon shrugged, grabbed a broom, put on a face mask, and stepped into the room.

"I’ll handle the bedroom, and you take the balcony?" he suggested.

"Deal."

And so, they dove into their work.

Leon was surprisingly good at deep cleaning.

When he was young, living with his mentor, he often helped his mentor’s wife with housework. Over time, he became proficient in everything.

Roswitha, on the other hand, was naturally adept at these tasks as well. Leon had discovered this about her long ago.

It was yet another testament to the fact that the title of Queen was not handed to her on a silver platter. She had worked her way up, step by step, from the ground up.

Through their teamwork, the room quickly became spick-and-span.

But just as they were finishing up, Leon found a small wooden box beneath the sisters’ bed.

Thinking it was just a random storage box, he opened it to have a look inside.

What he saw left him stunned.

By this point, Roswitha had also finished cleaning. She turned to see Leon staring at the wooden box in bewilderment, and she became curious.

She walked over to him.

Peering into the box in Leon’s hands, she saw an assortment of small objects.

"A Rubik’s Cube, some notes, a... composition? And two photos—one of our first family portrait and one we took just the other day."

Roswitha’s gaze eventually landed on the object at the very bottom of the box. "Is this... some kind of magical material?" she asked.

It was a black crystal shard, glinting with a metallic sheen under the sunlight.

"Where did you find it?" she asked.

"Under the bed."

"Is it... Muen’s?"

Leon shook his head, his memories surfacing. Gently caressing the wooden box, he said softly, "It’s Noa’s. Before I returned from the future, Noa burned this box."

Roswitha raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"She said... everything in the box held extraordinary meaning to her. But when tragedy strikes, the items that were supposed to carry fond memories become instruments of torment. If I hadn’t managed to change the past and set the world right again, then holding onto this box would’ve been pointless."

Leon explained, "That Rubik’s Cube was what I made for her and Muen ages ago. As for this note, it has her name on it—when I taught Muen how to write their names, I wrote hers alongside Muen's. And that composition was which she wrote based on our first date in Sky City, and she even won an award for it."

Noa shared a trait with Roswitha: on the surface, she seemed indifferent to everything, cultivating an air of detachment and nonchalance.

But in truth, they both had very meticulous and sensitive hearts. They guarded anything they cherished with utmost care.

And in doing so, every detail had to be executed with perfection—just like how she had held onto this Rubik’s Cube, this note, and that essay containing the beautiful beginning of Leon and Roswitha’s story.

"That child... she values this family more than we realized," Roswitha said with a smile.

"Yeah..."

Compared to her peers, Noa was indeed more mature. Her little head was always filled with thoughts, and she bore burdens that others at her age wouldn’t even begin to understand.

Such maturity and awareness undeniably made her journey more arduous than that of other younglings.

Whether in the future or in the present, Noa was always the most understanding one of the girls.

When it came to father’s love, Leon gave equal amounts to every daughter. He loved each of them deeply, treating them like treasures.

But when it came to guilt, the one he felt he owed the most to... was Noa.

It was his initial mishandling of his relationship with Noa that caused this sensitive child to feel that her family life was on the brink of collapse. This led her to relentlessly push herself, striving to gain the strength and capability to safeguard the family.

Her stubborn and awkward personality—part Leon, part Roswitha.

"Hm? What’s this shard?" Roswitha asked, pointing at the black crystal fragment.

"I’m not entirely sure."

Leon picked up the fragment and examined it closely. "When I was in the future, I saw this same shard in her box. But I never got the chance to ask her about it—our dear eldest daughter set everything aflame before I could. But clearly, her skill with Fire Elemental Magic was already pretty advanced back then."

Roswitha chuckled. "So... do you see anything now?"

Leon frowned. "It’s very familiar. The texture, the feel—they’re incredibly familiar..."

He turned it over in his hands, deep in thought. Then, suddenly, something clicked.

"Wait a second... it can’t be..."

"What?"

Leon slowly turned to Roswitha, his expression incredulous. After a moment, he finally spoke.

"This is... a fragment of the Black Gold Chariot."