In the evening, Leon dragged his exhausted body back to the room. He was so spent he didn't even have the energy to change his shoes. The moment he entered, he stumbled straight to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, his limbs feeling like lead.
After a moment, the door lock clicked softly. The familiar, precise tap of high heels echoed on the floor, approaching slowly.
Leon knew it was Rossweise, but he couldn't muster the strength to even lift his head. Today had solidified his understanding of her true nature—stubborn, extreme, and endlessly scheming. She concealed her deranged thirst for revenge beneath a mask of regal composure.
Forcing him to watch the child was one thing. But making him drag his half-dead, post-coma body around to entertain Muen, who had the boundless energy of a hyperactive puppy, felt like a special kind of torture.
"Come on, Mother Dragon," Leon muttered into the mattress as Rossweise reached the bedside. "Just two days ago, I was comatose in this very bed. Now you expect me to keep up with a little dragon girl who bounces off the walls. It really seems like you want me to depart this world sooner rather than later." The frustration ran deep; he felt like a tool being used until it broke.
"Dead?" the queen inquired, her voice cool and detached.
Leon managed two weak kicks with his legs to prove he was still among the living. It was a pathetic gesture, but it made his point.
"Very well. Your vitality is more tenacious than I anticipated," she remarked, a faint note of what might have been surprise in her tone, as if she'd expected him to break more easily.
"You have a unique sense of humor, Your Majesty," Leon snorted, the bitterness sharp on his tongue. Her words felt like deliberate jabs at his suffering.
Rossweise didn't reply further. Instead, she moved closer, bent down, and carefully placed the sleeping form of Muen into Leon's arms.
The distinct, milky scent of the child filled his senses. He opened his eyes to find her young face mere inches from his own. It was peaceful and innocent, and despite everything, it tugged at a chord deep within him.
Muen's eyes were lightly closed. Her small, pink fists were curled gently. A faint trace of tiredness lingered between her brows, but a soft, contented smile played on her lips. She looked utterly at peace, as if the day's play had filled her heart to the brim.
"She hasn't been this happy in a long time," Rossweise said quietly, her voice unusually soft.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to Leon and Muen, staring out into the room. Her silver hair seemed to capture the dim light.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a gentle, silvery glow over the bed. The room was profoundly quiet, save for the steady, rhythmic sound of Muen's breathing. For a fleeting moment, it felt deceptively calm, like a scene from a normal family life—a fiction Leon knew was meticulously constructed for her revenge.
Leon rolled his eyes, the gesture lost in the darkness. After a short silence, Rossweise added, "My sister is arriving tomorrow. She likely wishes to discuss some internal clan affairs with me and pay a visit. So tomorrow, you will only play with Muen inside this room. You are not to step outside, understand?"
Leon's mind, previously dulled by fatigue, sparked to life. He chuckled dryly, pulling his gaze from Rossweise's back to look at Muen again.
He reached out and gently stroked Muen's hair, saying, "Understood. Being shackled to a human is truly beneath the Silver Dragon Queen's honor. We can't let outsiders catch a glimpse of that." His words were laced with sarcasm, a direct hit at her pride and the shame he represented.
"No. To outsiders, you are a perfectly respectable bachelor dragon. A bit of a recluse who prefers to keep his tail hidden on normal days," Rossweise explained matter-of-factly.
Hearing this, Leon shot up into a sitting position. "What did you—"
"Shh. Muen is still sleeping," she warned, her voice a soft but firm whisper.
Leon glanced down at the sleeping child and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "What did you say? You told your people that I'm a dragon?" Shock coursed through him, a visceral rejection of this new identity that erased his entire past as a slayer.
"Well, what else could I say?" Rossweise replied, a hint of impatience in her tone. "I have to make everyone believe that you, me, and our daughter are a perfectly happy family. And you, Leon Cosmodeous, are a dragon who married into the Silver Dragon Clan. You fell into a coma due to a sudden illness two years ago and have only just woken up these past few days."
Rossweise grinned, her eyes glinting with triumphant mischief. "How about it? I'm rather good at spinning a tale, don't you think?" She seemed genuinely proud of her elaborate cover story, a perfect veil for the ugly truth.
"Not good at all..." Leon muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Why? Not satisfied?" Rossweise chuckled, her tone light but probing.
"No," Leon retorted firmly.
He waved a dismissive hand and lay back down, closing his eyes as if he could absorb this new, fabricated reality through sheer force of will. It felt like another layer of his identity was being stripped away, forcibly remolding him into a character of her design.
A marriageable dragon who disliked showing his tail, who married into the Silver Dragon Clan, fell ill, and slept for two years—a male dragon. The story twisted his human history, his life's work, into a pathetic dragon narrative, all to conceal her perceived shame.
It was a robust cover, he had to admit, with no obvious holes. If he weren't Leon Cosmodeous, Dragon Slayer, he might even have said, "Well done, Rossweise." But it stung his pride to its very core, feeling like the final erasure of his former self.
"So you've given me a new identity. Why not let me meet your family, then?" Leon asked, curiosity cutting through his resentment.
"You said it yourself, this identity is fabricated. It can't be perfect. My sister is clever. I'm afraid she might see through something," Rossweise admitted, a rare thread of concern in her voice when it came to her family.
Leon didn't answer immediately. Instead, his thoughts turned to his own plans. Rossweise had just mentioned her sister was coming to discuss internal clan matters. Was it akin to an audit or inspection in human organizations? Perhaps a review of reports or sensitive secrets.
Pressing his lips together, Leon asked, "Is your sister's visit a significant event?"
Rossweise's frown deepened. "If you dare cause any trouble, don't blame me for being unkind." Her warning was sharp, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You don't honestly think you're being 'kind' to me now, do you?" Leon shot back, gesturing vaguely at his entire miserable existence as her prisoner.
Rossweise shot him a venomous look, then stood and walked toward the bedroom door.
Pausing at the threshold, she whispered one final command, "Tomorrow, take good care of Muen. Do not leave this room. Do not cause trouble for me." The order was absolute, delivered with the finality of a queen.
The lock echoed in the quiet room as she engaged it from the outside. The click was definitive, followed by the fading tap of her high heels down the corridor.
Leon let out a deep, weary sigh, muttering to himself, "She's still a dragon obsessed with appearances. Maintaining the act even for a fake family. What's the point?" He felt the immense weight of her pride, the lengths she would go to preserve her image before her clan.
He could easily guess how Rossweise would answer: "For revenge."
She kept her broken prize close, stripped him of his dignity and pride, and now even gave him a dragon's name to make him pay. It was her way of turning the tables, of repaying the shame he had inflicted upon her in that dungeon. Dragon revenge was a wild, profound thing, something Leon, as a human, could never fully comprehend. It was a tangled mix of hatred and a twisted, possessive form of care, binding him to her forever.
But whether he understood it or not, Leon still burned with the desire to make Rossweise taste some bitterness herself. His mind was already whirring, plotting how to handle that scheming dragon woman tomorrow. Perhaps her sister's visit was the perfect opportunity to stir the pot, to find a crack in her meticulously constructed facade.
For her, a queen, that would be the ultimate social disgrace! A grim smile touched Leon's lips internally, a spark of defiant fight back. He imagined her face if her carefully laid plans went awry—flushed with rage, her regal mask shattered.
"Mmm—" A soft, sleepy sound came from Muen beside him.
Immediately after, she curled her tiny body, her tail lifting to cover her waist as if seeking warmth.
Seeing this, Leon quickly grabbed the corner of the quilt. He draped it over Muen gently, tucking it around her small form.
Snuggling into the soft blanket, the instinctual need for warmth made her shift unconsciously closer to Leon's side.
Her small fingers gently pinched the edge of Leon's clothes. In a drowsy, dream-filled murmur, she whispered, "Daddy... Muen likes playing with Daddy... Hmm~ Mommy has never played with Muen... Let's bring Mommy next time, okay?"
Damn.
She didn't play with her daughter, yet the child dreamed of her anyway. The sentiment tugged painfully at Leon's heart, a confusing mix of pity for Muen and fresh anger toward Rossweise.
Rossweise, she has no heart! How could she be so cold to her own child? A surge of protective instinct for the innocent girl washed over him.
Leon saw an opportunity. Perhaps he could use this moment to sway the little dragon girl, to plant subtle seeds of doubt about her mother.
"Mommy is a bad dragon," Leon whispered softly into the quiet room. "Let's not bring Mommy to play, okay?"
"Mommy... is... a bad dragon..." Muen repeated in her sleep, her voice a tiny, indistinct murmur.
"Yeah, yeah, Mommy is a bad dragon, very naughty," Leon reinforced, pushing a little further. He felt a twinge of guilt, but it was overshadowed by a petty thrill of retaliation.
"Then Daddy should become a bad dragon too, right?" Muen mumbled back, her dream-logic unwavering.
Leon froze. His attempt to sway her had failed spectacularly. Her loyalty, her pure-hearted nature, was a fortress. Long-term planning is needed! He would have to be more patient, more subtle. For now, he simply held her closer, an unfamiliar, paternal warmth spreading through him despite the sea of hatred that surrounded them. The night was silent, but his mind raced with schemes for the coming day.