In the afternoon, the couple returned to Silver Dragon Castle.
In the bedroom study, Leon and Roswitha sat at the table.
On the table lay the book *Primordial Magic: Soul Judgment*.
"This Claudia from the Sea Dragon Clan—who on earth is she? She’s like a wish-granting bottle. Whatever we want, she somehow manages to produce it,” Leon said, puzzled.
Roswitha frowned, holding her chin in one hand as she stared at the old tome.
After a moment, she spoke.
"I think instead of figuring out Claudia's origins, we should consider why your master has managed to acquire books from Sea Dragon Clan twice now."
"The *Nine Hells Gate* incident could be brushed off with a flimsy explanation like 'he broke into the Empire’s library and pilfered a random book on impulse.'"
"But this time with *Primordial Magic*? A book like this isn’t something that falls into one’s hands by sheer luck."
Leon was also aware of this.
But he equally couldn’t fathom what kind of connections the old man had to secure Sea Dragon Clan books one after another.
Even if he had once been the Empire's top Dragon Slayer, it didn’t mean his network extended so broadly, certainly not to the elusive Sea Dragon Clan.
There were many things Leon’s master hadn’t told him, which Leon could understand.
The timing might not be right, critical details might be difficult to express, or the circumstances might not yet be entirely under control—there were countless reasons.
But even though he understood, stumbling upon an unsolvable mystery like this still left him long for answers.
"No use asking my master about it," Leon sighed.
Roswitha raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Why not?”
Leon shrugged. "From the moment he took me in, I've never once seen him admit to hiding his stash of money, even when the evidence was undeniable—"
Leon placed a hand on his waist and scratched his forehead. “The old man just never admits. So stubborn.”
The queen chuckled softly. “You’re quite like your master in that regard.”
“I don’t have a stash to hide.”
Hidden money was a classic and timeless topic for married couples.
And figuring out how to hide it effectively was a problem that troubled many married men.
General Leon, however, never had such concerns. Nor did he need to stash anything away.
After all, not every man gets the chance to marry the Silver Dragon Queen at the age of twenty.
“I wasn’t talking about money.”
Roswitha rolled her eyes. “I meant that you’re as stubborn as your master.”
“I’m never stubborn, my dear dragon.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t seem to believe me.”
“I do.”
“Truly or falsely?”
“Obviously falsely.”
“Oh, now you've got me riled up—”
Roswitha waved her hand, dismissing the topic of stubbornness for now.
They’d likely argue forever about who was more stubborn, so they might as well let it rest for the time being.
The more pressing matter was—
She picked up the ancient tome, gently opened it, and her gaze fell on Claudia’s name.
Leon leaned over as well. “Since my master isn’t an option, then we’ll have to start with Claudia.”
“But we don’t have a valid reason to approach her or the Sea Dragon Clan.”
Roswitha said, “That group is highly territorial. Besides, they cut ties with all the major Dragon Clans thirty years ago and have been living in near isolation ever since.”
She lightly bit her lips and placed the tome back on the table.
“This is tricky,” Roswitha said with a rare sigh.
Leon raised a hand to pat her shoulder. “We’ll take it slow.”
Roswitha nodded.
The couple decided not to dwell any further on the book for now.
Having spent the entire morning flying between the sanctuary and the borders of dragon-and-human territory, Roswitha felt a bit worn out.
Taking advantage of the relaxing afternoon sunlight, she returned to the bedroom, changed into a nightgown, and prepared to catch up on some overdue sleep.
Leon, on the other hand, made his way toward the door.
Roswitha leaned against the headboard and called to his retreating back, “Where are you going?”
“No clue. Maybe take a walk, practice some magic, roll around on a nice patch of grass… something like that.”
“In other words... you’ve got nothing to do?”
“Pretty much.”
“So, you’d rather roll around on the grass than help your queen nap?”
Leon chuckled, turned around, and crossed his arms, leaning against the bedroom doorframe. “How old are you now? Still need someone to keep you company while you nap?”
Roswitha narrowed her eyes slightly and corrected him with mock seriousness, “Not keep me company—serve me.”
Leon spread his arms like a helpless little bear. “I’m not your lackey.”
“But you are my captive.”
Leon grinned, baring his teeth. “Oh, rhyming too, are we?”
Roswitha: →_→
Leon raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll serve you during your nap, Your Majesty.”
With that, Leon stepped into the bedroom, pulled a chair over, and sat beside the bed, staring at Roswitha in a way that could only be described as solemn.
It was like he was showing his respect for a portrait of the deceased.
Roswitha was slightly speechless. “So, your idea of serving someone during a nap is sitting beside her and staring at her like this?”
“What else should I do?”
After a pause, Leon added with the utmost seriousness, “I could sing you a lullaby if you’d like.”
“What?”
“Ahem—Little dragon, sweet and mild~ Please open the door—mmph!—”
Roswitha whipped her tail across the mouth of this ridiculous man. “Change clothes. Get in bed.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
Leon took off his jacket and shoes before climbing into bed from the other side.
He only planned to nap peacefully, keeping to his side.
But Roswitha had already lifted the corner of the blanket with her tail, signaling for him to move closer.
Tsk—
Before their daughters started school, he had been a full-time dad;
And now, with the girls at school, he’d somehow been demoted to a glorified cuddle buddy.
Leon grumbled inwardly as he slid under the covers.
He wasn’t in the habit of napping, so he remained in his short-sleeve shirt and pants.
His plan was to sneak out quietly once the queen was asleep.
Since it was still in the daytime and due to Leon's shame, it was impossible for them to flirt like they used to do in the evening.
But… she clearly had other ideas.
“Why are you so far away?”
Her tone carried a deliberate mix of grievance and playful laziness.
The implication was obvious: “Come closer.”
Leon feigned ignorance. “Ah… getting closer would be too warm.”
“Warm?”
“Yeah, unbearably warm.”
“Well, then...”
Well then, get off the bed, and stop ruining my mood! —General Leon’s Fantasy Interlude.
“Well, then… take your clothes off, and you won’t be so warm.”
As expected, the mischievous dragoness was up to her tricks again.
The soft rustle of skin against silk sheets filled the air. Her pale, slender arms adjusted the blanket, and under the glow of the afternoon sun, she looked as exquisite as a porcelain doll.
After saying her piece, she slowly tucked her arm back under the blanket, which soon found its way to Leon’s waist.
Just as Leon began to sweat nervously, wondering how to fend off her advances, Roswitha did nothing more.
It turned out to be a simple hug, like clutching a life-sized teddy bear.
She leaned closer, letting her petite chin rest on his shoulder as her silver lashes lightly fluttered closed.
“This is our first time,” Roswitha suddenly said quietly.
“Our first time… what?”
“Our first time where I don’t have to handle afternoon business, and you don’t have to take the girls to practice magic or study. It’s our first chance to enjoy a quiet afternoon together, isn’t it?”
Her voice carried traces of exhaustion, but also a great deal of contentment.
Leon glanced down at her face. The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile, and beside them, a playful little dimple appeared.
She leaned into him so completely, as if all her defenses were down.
Leon blinked, then shook his head with a smile.
Well… Forget about the Sea Dragon Clan’s secrets or piles of unfinished work.
Right now… it was time to enjoy a quiet afternoon with his wife.
He raised his arm, slid it over her head, and gently wrapped it around her shoulders.
Roswitha kept her eyes closed but nestled even closer.
Her delicate fragrance enveloped him, and her soft breaths brushed against the collar of his shirt, sending tiny tingles down his skin.
“Leon...” she murmured, her tone somewhere between a dream and a gentle plea.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t like you... Not one bit.”
“Mm, same here.”
The words lingered briefly before Roswitha pressed her face against his neck, mumbling softly into him.
“Leon… I was lying.”
Leon chuckled and placed a feather-light kiss on her forehead.
“Hmm, so was I.”
