To be honest, when Roswitha first heard the name of the species, she was momentarily at a loss.

"A... donkey?"

Leon nodded.

"But why would the Dragon Clan keep donkeys as pets? Are you sure there's no mistake?"

Roswitha's skepticism was perfectly reasonable.

After all, donkeys were an exceedingly rare presence in Dragon Clan territory.

It wasn't because donkeys were particularly precious, but rather because donkeys had no practical value to the Dragon Clan.

As food, a donkey barely had any meat on its bones, and its flavor was far from appealing to the Dragon Clan's tastes.

As labor, donkeys also didn't have any advantage. Any work a donkey could perform could just as easily—and far more efficiently—be handled by the Dangerous Beasts tamed by the Dragon Clan.

Thus, to sum it up, this four-legged, long-eared livestock was seldom seen in Dragon Clan domains.

Let alone being kept as a pet.

Could a donkey even be considered a pet?

Even General Leon, known for his fearlessness, would admit he was no more than an equal to the family donkey.

That beast was one of the few creatures capable of inflicting actual physical harm upon him.

For this reason, Leon was certain:

"This is definitely donkey hair. Trust the judgment of a man who grew up with donkeys from the age of five."

The seriousness in his expression as he spoke these words was unmistakable.

So sincere that for a moment, Roswitha imagined the donkey might've been his childhood sweetheart.

"It's not that I don't believe you; I just don't get it. How could Claudia possibly have anything to do with a donkey?"

Leon shrugged and rubbed his fingers together, letting the breeze carry away the strand of hair he held.

"Maybe this didn't come from shaking hands with Claudia. We’ve spent all day at the academy and interacted with so many people; it wouldn’t be too surprising if we crossed paths with a Dragon Clan member who happens to love donkeys."

"That... sort of makes sense... but it’s still rather strange."

Rather than merely strange, Roswitha thought it carried a distinct sense of disparity.

Dragons and donkeys—two utterly unrelated creatures—both appearing simultaneously in their conversation.

No matter how she analyzed or interpreted it, it just felt a little off.

Aside from this peculiarity, however, Leon couldn't help but feel a tinge of melancholy.

He sighed softly, choosing not to elaborate further.

Nevertheless, Roswitha, ever perceptive, caught the subtle change in his expression.

"What’s wrong? You seem a bit preoccupied all of a sudden."

The couple chatted as they walked toward the staircase.

During their midday break, they’d taken a stroll around the academy. The environment was pleasant, and they both quite liked it.

With his hands buried in his pockets, Leon spoke in a slightly deeper tone.

"Nothing much. I just thought of the donkey-chan my master used to keep."

"The... donkey-chan? Your four-legged childhood sweetheart even had a name?" Roswitha teased with a playful smile.

Leon chuckled as well. "Of course. It had a name, naturally."

"Since it had a name, why didn’t you give it a better one? Something more elegant? 'Donkey-chan' sounds so perfunctory."

The two exited the teaching building and made their way toward the athletic field.

The setting sun hung low on the horizon, casting elongated shadows of their figures.

Occasionally, a few students jogging on the track would pass by, while others were performing gymnastics on the grassy field.

Leon and Roswitha strolled at a leisurely pace, savoring the rare moment of peace.

"There was, in fact, another name at first."

Intrigued, Roswitha pressed, "Really? What was it?"

Leon inhaled deeply, then enunciated each word slowly:

"Elizabeth · Sha · Lawrence."

The queen came to an abrupt halt, a large question mark written plainly across her exquisitely beautiful face.

Leon stopped as well, turning back to look at her. "Yep, I had the exact same look on my face when my master first told me the name."

Roswitha covered her mouth, attempting to suppress a laugh. "Well, that’s certainly not a perfunctory name. If anything, it sounds rather... aristocratic."

"The 'Sha' in the middle was taken from my master's wife’s name, and 'Lawrence' is my master’s surname," Leon explained.

"What about 'Elizabeth'?"

"Apparently, it’s the Empire’s queen consort's name."

"'Apparently'? Really now, you and your master both served in the Empire. How could you not even know the queen’s name?"

Leon spread his hands in mild resignation. "The queen consort is notoriously mysterious. She was only ever seen once, on the day she married the king. Since then, no one’s laid eyes on her.

Even the name 'Elizabeth' was gleaned from unsubstantiated rumors."

"I see... well, that’s fair."

"Later on, my master found that calling out 'Elizabeth' in the midst of a herd of cattle and sheep felt a bit inappropriate. Eventually, he changed it to just 'Donkey-chan.' And that, my dear, is the story behind my beloved donkey’s name."

Roswitha pouted and rolled her eyes at him as she crossed her arms, fiddling with her skirt as they walked on ahead.

"Sweet talker. 'Beloved donkey,' really."

Leon blinked, a spark of mischief lighting up behind his eyes. He immediately sidled up to Roswitha and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, grinning broadly.

"Well, you’re my beloved wife, after all."

Roswitha half-heartedly shrugged her shoulders, pretending to pull away.

"Get lost, you fool."

But the man clinging to her held firm, refusing to budge. She couldn’t shake him off.

Infuriating. Fine, she’d let him have his way just this once.

"Speaking of which, it’s been quite some time since you last saw your 'beloved donkey,' hasn’t it?" Roswitha asked.

"Yeah... ever since I was stationed in your Silver Dragon territories all those years ago, I haven’t seen Donkey-chan. Not once."

After a pause, Leon added, "I haven’t seen my master’s wife either."

Roswitha’s expression softened as she tried to comfort him. "But at least you get to see your master from time to time. And hasn’t he always assured you that his wife is safe and sound?"

"That’s true, but... something about it just doesn’t sit right with me."

"Doesn’t sit right?"

"Yeah. It’s been so long, and yet my master has never sent me a recent photo of her."

Leon frowned thoughtfully. "Could it be that even he finds it difficult to meet her?"

Roswitha raised an eyebrow. "That’s possible."

"But he says she’s staying at her family’s place. Even if meeting her is challenging, it shouldn’t be this challenging. Not after all this time with not a single reunion."

"Hmm... but didn’t your master mention once that his relationship with her family wasn’t exactly harmonious?"

Leon let out a weary sigh, shaking his head.

"I can’t help but feel the old man is keeping a lot from me. And no matter how much I ask, he refuses to say a word. It’s frustrating."

Roswitha studied Leon's slightly troubled profile but refrained from immediately offering comfort as she had earlier.

Instead, she lowered the arms she had folded across her chest, letting them hang naturally at her sides, before gently entwining her fingers with his.

It wasn’t the kind of entwining that carried romantic suggestiveness—just the right amount of pressure as she softly grasped his hand.

Leon’s battle-hardened hands were covered with countless scars, but their firmness gave a solid sense of security.

"Everyone has their secrets. You can’t expect everyone to bare their soul to you, to confide every last detail—it’s simply not realistic."

Her tone was tender as she finally spoke. "Besides, your master has lent us so much support over the years. Even if he is keeping things from us, I’m certain it’s not out of distrust or anything sinister."

Leon nodded silently.

Of course, he understood that.

But being left in the dark for so long inevitably left him feeling a little out of sorts.

"Alright then, buck up. We still have dinner later with the girls. You wouldn’t want them to swarm around and ask, ‘Daddy, why are you so upset?’ now, would you?"

When it came to teasing, the queen could be vicious. Yet, her talent for offering solace was unparalleled.

Ordinarily, she cared little for others' emotions. Joy or sorrow—what did any of it have to do with her, the Silver Dragon Queen?

But when it came to the fool by her side, her one and only captive, she cared.

Of course she cared.

How else would she find someone to fetch her bathwater if her little captive turned gloomy for real?

It was all interconnected. She wasn’t about to comfort someone for free.

Leon’s mood visibly lifted.

He reciprocated with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Roswitha smiled inwardly.

Good. He’s not upset anymore.

Excellent. He’s fetching my bathwater tonight for sure, hehe.

"You said just now... that everyone has their secrets?"

"That’s right."

"Then do you have any secrets you haven’t told me?"

At that, Roswitha abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Leon kept walking a few more paces, but their hands stayed clasped, their arms slightly raised as they stood some distance apart on the field, gazing into each other’s eyes.

"I do," Roswitha replied.

"What?"

Instead of answering directly, she lifted her high heel slowly, pressed it gently back down, and took a step toward Leon—gradually closing the gap.

Until she stood beside him, close enough to rise on her toes and lean into his ear.

Curiosity got the better of Leon, and he leaned in closer.

Only to have his ear abruptly pinched by Roswitha.

"You really thought I’d tell you, dummy? If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, now would it?"

"You’re so dishonest, dragoness!"

Letting go of his ear, Roswitha clasped her hands behind her back and stepped backward, putting some space between them again.

The sunlight filtered through her hair, casting her figure in an ethereal glow as if she were a blood-red rose blooming in the expanse of the cosmos.

She stuck her tongue out at Leon playfully,

"Tell you what—get around to confessing your love to me, and then I’ll tell you my secret."