The Maid of Silver Dragon Castle felt that the past week had been a bit...

Odd.

Ever since Her Majesty the Queen, His Highness the Prince, and the little princesses returned after attending the play performance at Saint Hiss Academy, the entire atmosphere in Silver Dragon Castle had shifted into something unusual.

Although Her Majesty carried on with her usual nine-to-five work schedule, sometimes even working overtime deep into the night;

And His Highness, true to his diligent "good Samaritan" spirit, busied himself with handling external issues on behalf of Her Majesty, such as cleaning up Dangerous Beasts that strayed into the territory;

The couple cooperated so seamlessly that they practically redefined the old stereotype of "man works outside, woman works inside."

But!

Beneath this harmonious exterior lurked a strange, unsettling undercurrent.

After days of careful observation led by Anna, the head of the Maid Squad, they were convinced of one thing: Her Majesty and His Highness seemed to have entered a marital... plateau.

What is a marital plateau, you ask?

It's the phase following the cycle of infatuation, marriage, child-rearing, rekindled romance—yes, that second bout of romance, akin to the sudden soberness of some dying people—

And when this stage ends, it marks the beginning of a plateau.

A marital plateau wasn't anything to panic about; after all, books say that every couple, or even lovers, experience it at some point.

From talking about everything to barely having anything to say; repeating the same routines day after day. No matter how fiery the passion may have been, over time, it inevitably cools.

So why were the maids so sure this lull had reached their Queen and Prince?

The reason was simple:

They hadn’t had any juicy gossip to feast on for so long!

"If the couple I favor doesn’t churn out scandals or drama, how am I supposed to live?"

Thus, as the leader of both the maids and the couple pairing fan club, Anna made an executive decision—

"Milan, the mission to reignite the passion between Her Majesty and His Highness is yours."

Milan: ?

"Why—why me?"

The pretty young maid looked visibly puzzled.

Sure, everyone wanted the Queen and the Prince to stay as lovey-dovey as before, but... why was *she* being sent to spearhead the operation?

What if things backfired and the royal couple got upset? She could kiss her paycheck goodbye!

"Because, Milan, you’re the only one here who’s actually been in a relationship."

Before Anna could even speak, Sherry chimed in with a cheeky grin from her spot nearby.

Arms crossed, Sherry dripped her tone with the kind of enjoyment derived from watching a drama unfold. "We’ve all been single for over a hundred years—how are we supposed to help rekindle *anyone's* flame?"

Milan hurriedly clarified, "But I’ve been broken up for ages! And… why are you, a scout from the Guard Division, hanging around the Maid Squad anyway?"

Sherry ignored the second half of Milan’s objection and addressed just the first. "Even so, a little dating experience is still leagues ahead of those of us with none."

The poor maid puffed up her cheeks in frustration, her fair face flushing red.

She wracked her brain furiously.

A moment later, with a sigh of reluctant resignation, Milan gave in.

Fine. If not me, then who?

Restoring the glory of Silver Dragon demands sacrifice, and who better to do so than me!

"Okay, fine, I’ll do it. But you, Head Maid, need to tell me exactly how to pull this off."

"Of course, the plan’s already prepared."

With that, Anna pulled out two finely-crafted tickets and handed them to Milan.

Milan took the tickets and glanced at them to read:

“Extreme Northern Expedition Survival Challenge… Limited Edition Tickets.”

"Huh?!" Milan blinked. "What’s this got to do with reigniting the romance?"

Anna’s face lit up with confidence. "Haven’t you heard of the suspension bridge effect?"

Milan tilted her head in confusion and shook it, indicating no.

"The suspension bridge effect refers to how, when someone walks across a dangerous suspension bridge, his or her heart rate accelerates involuntarily. If, during that moment, they encounter someone of the opposite sex, they’re likely to misinterpret the adrenaline rush as romantic attraction. And vice versa."

Anna explained scientifically. "So, to help Their Majesties recapture their sparks, we’ve decided to send them on an exhilarating trip to the Far North!"

Listening to Anna’s confident theory, Milan rolled her eyes.

"I’ve got to say, you sound like you have way more experience in these matters than I do, Head Maid…"

"Ahem, nonsense. My knowledge is purely academic. Actual execution? That’s on you."

With a little huff, Milan tucked the tickets away. "Fine, I’ll do it. Wish me luck."

"Mm, the entire Maid Squad’s got your back!"

"And so does the Guard Division," Sherry added, raising a hand.

Turning on her heel, Milan took two deep breaths and began walking toward the Grand Hall, her strides exuding the determination of someone ready to face their fate.

"Don’t dock my pay, don’t dock my pay, don’t dock my pay…" she silently prayed, knowing full well that bringing up non-work-related matters could potentially disrupt the Queen’s famously efficient workflows.

Milan had arrived at the hall while praying.

By the time she reached the hall, Milan spotted Her Majesty seated on the throne, diligently working through today’s paperwork.

From her angle, the Queen’s side profile remained as poised and elegant as ever, and for some reason, it made Milan swallow nervously.

After mentally hyping herself up, Milan stepped onto the platform and approached Roswitha.

Even as Milan stood to one side for over ten seconds without a word, Roswitha continued to focus entirely on her documents.

Eventually, it was Roswitha who broke the silence. "What is it, Milan?"

Snapping out of her stupor, the young maid stammered, "Your Majesty… it’s nearly dinnertime—"

"Hmm, I’ll head over shortly," Roswitha replied, assuming Milan was there to remind her about dinner.

In reality, Milan had meant to say, "It’s almost dinnertime; perhaps you should take a break," so she could seize the opportunity to hand over the tickets.

But with the Queen so immersed in her work, there hadn’t been a moment to interject!

The poor maid was getting so frustrated. She nearly stomped her feet.

Seeing Milan lingering, Roswitha finally set her pen down and turned her gaze toward her.

"Is there something else?"

"Ah, well, yes… Yes, there is," Milan stammered.

"Go ahead," Roswitha prompted.

"Uh, it’s… it’s…"

Roswitha tilted her head slightly, her tone suddenly curious. "Relationship advice?"

"What? No, no! I… I went through a breakup recently…"

"Ah, I see… heartbreak counseling, then?"

Milan groaned silently, face in her hands.

Your Majesty, we haven’t labeled you the castle’s therapist—you did that to yourself!

"Not that either…"

"Milan, I’m very busy."

"Ah! Well, um, Your Majesty—I have these two tickets for an outdoor adventure. They were originally for me and my, uh… ex. But since we’re no longer together, I thought I’d give them to you and His Highness instead."

Quick-thinking Milan spat out a plausible excuse.

After all, no one gets mad at someone offering a gift, right?

Thankfully, Roswitha didn’t seem particularly annoyed by the interruption.

"Outdoor adventure? Isn’t that something for kids in their twenties?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Roswitha frowned slightly, inwardly realizing she’d made a misstep.

Tch. Isn’t that Leon still in his twenties?

Alright, mental note: stop using ‘twenties’ as a benchmark for declaring her own maturity.

"But Your Majesty, this isn’t just any outdoor adventure!" Milan said, puffing her chest out confidently.

"Oh? Then what *is* it?"

"It’s a survival adventure! In the Extreme North! Super thrilling!"

At the mention of the Extreme North, Roswitha raised an eyebrow.

"The Extreme North…" she murmured.

"Yes, yes!" Milan quickly nodded.

Roswitha wasn’t unfamiliar with that place. Grandmother Veronica and Olette, the headmistress of Saint Hiss Academy, had once collaborated on a project in the same region.

But the results of that project had been stolen by a spy from the Empire planted in the research team.

Afterward, the initiative had been abruptly halted.

Roswitha had initially planned to visit the area herself to investigate the potential risks her grandmother might have been dealing with.

But when the project was canceled, she saw no further need to make the journey.

Besides, the region was little more than an endless expanse of snow and ice.

It was rumored that its ice layers were so thick that not even Constantine’s flames could melt through them—though that had never been verified (a running joke from Leon).

So, to go there for fun… wasn’t that just asking for trouble?

"Keep the tickets for yourself," Roswitha said, shaking her head. "Who knows? Maybe you’ll reconcile with your ex and need them."

"Your Majesty…"

"If there’s nothing else, please wait in the dining hall. I’ll finish this document and—"

"In truth!" Milan suddenly raised her voice, standing tall.

Roswitha paused and asked. "In truth?"

Looking down, Milan bit her lips.

"In truth, Your Majesty… everyone’s been feeling like you and His Highness might be… entering a cold phase in your marriage…"

Roswitha blinked, momentarily stunned.

"Who? Cold phase? Me and Leon?"

"Mm…"

Roswitha’s gaze shifted slightly as she thought back to her interactions with Leon over the past few days.

Work as usual during the day. Evenings spent grading "homework assignments" as usual—

Everything seemed harmonious. Even their nighttime "activities" were harmonious. Coldness, where?

Oh. If "cold" applied anywhere, it might be in the decreasing experimental creativity of their "homework assignments."

But marital cold phase? Absolutely not.

Roswitha was just about to explain, but on second thought, could it be that she was too involved to see the truth, while others could see it more clearly?

She herself hadn’t noticed any so-called "marital plateau," but was it possible that outsiders could already tell that Leon had started to grow cold toward her?

Hiss~~~

This hypothesis indeed seemed to hold some merit and was worth verifying.

“Thank you, Milan. I won’t be having dinner tonight, so no need to wait for me.”

With that, Roswitha put away her pen, stood up, and had just taken two steps when she suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back to say,

“Oh, and the Prince won’t be having dinner either.”

“Huh?”

Before Milan could question her, Her Majesty had already lifted her skirt hems and hurriedly rushed upstairs.

“Your—Your Majesty? Your Majesty, don’t you want these tickets anymore? Your Majesty!”