If he had to endure a family dinner like this every single day, Leon was certain it would shave at least thirty years off his life. Dinner was supposed to be a pleasant time for a family to connect and share their day. But in this household, it had become Rossweise's preferred method of psychological torture.
Now, with Noah added to the mix—a little girl whose demeanor was as frosty as an ice dragon's heart—Leon was outnumbered two to one. It was a battle he could not possibly win! He was frantically searching for a way to diplomatically dissuade Muen from her new, terrifying proposal.
Suddenly, Noah's clear, calm voice cut through his thoughts. "No, Muen."
Muen's cheerful face fell as she looked at her older sister. "Why not?"
"I wish to enroll in the Dragonling Department of St. Heath Academy," Noah stated, then turned her expectant gaze to Rossweise, awaiting her mother's verdict.
Rossweise was visibly taken aback by her eldest daughter's ambition. She was well aware of Noah's prodigious intellect and formidable magical aptitude for her age. However, it was customary for young dragons to begin their formal education at the Dragonling Department no earlier than four or five years old.
Noah was merely one year and two months old. She was also significantly smaller in stature than a typical dragonling of school age.
Rossweise set down her knife and fork. She regarded her daughter with a serious expression. "Why this urgency to attend school?"
"Because I wish to defeat more—"
"More what?" Rossweise prompted.
"Dragon slayers."
"Pfft—cough, cough… cough—"
Leon, who had been taking a sip of water to steady his nerves, choked violently the moment he heard his own daughter declare her intent to vanquish people of his former profession.
What a wonderfully loyal and devoted daughter, he thought with profound sarcasm.
Noah looked at Leon with unmistakable disapproval. "Please pay attention to your table manners."
Oh, now you're playing the proper little adult, Leon fumed internally. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "Dragon slayers are exceptionally dangerous, sweetheart. Daddy is merely concerned for your safety."
"One cannot grow stronger without facing danger," Noah replied with unshakable calm.
Well, we have a true little mule here, one who won't be swayed, Leon realized. He opened his mouth to argue further, but Rossweise cut him off.
"I believe Noah's idea has considerable merit," Rossweise declared. "The sooner she learns combat arts, the sooner she can confront dragon slayers. Besides, I've always found Dragon Slayers to be rather foolish. There's nothing particularly remarkable about them. They likely startle easily and choke on their water. What is your opinion, Leon?"
Leon said nothing, his silence a louder protest than any words.
"Well, it appears your father has no objections either," Rossweise said with a triumphant smile. "St. Heath Academy holds two entrance examinations per year. The next one is in a month's time. During this period, we must prepare everything necessary for your enrollment."
"Yes, Mother," Noah replied.
"Good, we shall discuss the specifics tomorrow. For now, let us finish our meal."
The two little girls lowered their heads and resumed eating. Rossweise glanced at Leon, who looked utterly defeated. "Why aren't you eating, Leon?" she asked, her voice dripping with false concern. "Is my cooking not to your liking?"
"It's delicious… exceptionally so…" he muttered into his plate.
"If it is delicious, then eat more. You will need your strength, after all… for other activities later."
The way she emphasized "other activities" was laden with implication. Leon stared down at the steak on his plate. He gripped his knife and fork until his knuckles turned white.
He could feel the weight of Rossweise's scorn and disrespect. To her, he was likely nothing more than a utility—a nanny for her children and a plaything to alleviate her boredom. The only reason she kept him alive was to provide the children with the semblance of a father figure.
He had once told her she could crush his pride and strip him of his dignity, but she could never break his spirit. Had those been the empty words of a broken man? No…
It was not like that. He would never allow Rossweise to take anything more from him. Silently, he began cutting the steak on his plate into minuscule pieces.
The small, flickering flame of defiance in his heart, which had been nearly extinguished, began to burn brighter.
.
.
.
An hour later, the torturous family dinner finally concluded.
Noah took Muen's hand and led her back to their room. Leon, however, volunteered to clean up.
Rossweise stated that the servants could handle it, but Leon insisted. He argued that a husband and wife cleaning up together after a meal fostered a more authentic family atmosphere. Rossweise didn't bother to argue further. She simply tied an apron around her waist and headed to the kitchen to begin washing.
Now, they were alone. The clear water streamed from the tap as Rossweise stood at the sink, meticulously wiping a plate.
"Are you planning to assist at any point?" she asked, a note of irritation in her voice. "You were the one who proposed we do this together. You— Ugh…"
Before she could finish, a sudden, searing wave of sensation erupted on her chest. Every sensitive nerve in her body ignited at once. She pulled her neckline down slightly and saw the intricate dragon mark glowing with a faint, ominous purple light.
"Leon… what are you—" she began, turning to confront him.
But the movement only intensified the dragon mark's reaction. It was a powerful, primal resonance connecting them, an inescapable side effect of the magic that bound their fates.
Rossweise's legs buckled. She stumbled forward, barely catching herself on the doorframe to prevent a fall. Even so, the overwhelming sensation continued to burn through her veins and cloud her mind. Her vision blurred. Her mouth went dry. A deep, instinctual craving for closeness and consummation grew urgent and potent. She tried to swallow, but she was powerless against the dragon mark's command. She slid down to sit on the floor, unable to stifle her ragged breathing.
Thud, thud—
Footsteps echoed in front of her. Rossweise looked up. It was Leon.
The cold moonlight streamed through the side window, illuminating his face in profile. His expression was unreadable as he looked down at her. But upon closer inspection, one could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He, too, was fighting against the violent resonance of the dragon mark.
"What are you… what do you want…?" Rossweise managed, her words broken by gasps.
Two warring instincts battled within her. One part was deeply wary of the man standing before her. The other, a profound dragon impulse, screamed for his proximity. She knew Leon was experiencing the exact same conflict.
"Rossweise," Leon began, his voice low and steady. "I said something to you two years ago, in the dungeon. I do not know if you recall it."
He slowly crouched down, bringing his eyes level with hers.
He reached out and gently lifted her chin, studying her flushed cheeks and the hazy, wanting look in her eyes.
"Never find yourself alone with a rigorously trained, top-level dragon slayer," he reminded her, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper.
Rossweise managed a weak, defiant smile in return. "Heh… Do not posture, Leon. I know what you are doing. Using the dragon mark's resonance to weaken me for an escape attempt? It is not a poor strategy. But I assure you, it is impossible."
"The dragon mark affects us both. Furthermore, you have only just awoken from a two-year coma. You are still feeble. So, even if I am compromised, you cannot possibly flee this castle—"
Leon interrupted her. "Who said anything about escaping?"
"What…" she breathed, confusion breaking through the haze.
He leaned forward, slid his arms beneath her, and lifted the enfeebled Dragon Queen from the floor.
With her silvery tail hanging limply, the proud queen was cradled in the arms of the scoundrel, staring at him in utter shock.
"Leon! What are you doing? What are you doing?!" she cried out, her voice strained.
"It is true I recently awoke from a coma," he admitted, his voice tight but resolute. "My strength, my body, have not fully returned. But… over these past few days, I have reclaimed a fraction of my power. And it is enough."
As he spoke, he carried her out of the kitchen and into the corridor.
"Enough… for what? Leon, speak plainly! Enough for what?!" she demanded, struggling feebly in his grasp.
Instead of answering, Leon set her down on the floor near the entrance to the hall. He positioned her with her head facing the door and her tail toward him.
Then, he crouched again and grasped the base of her tail.
"Do not, Leon—!" she gasped, a tremor running through her.
During the dragon mark's resonance, a dragon's tail was among the most sensitive areas. The lightest touch could send paralyzing shocks through their entire nervous system.
In this moment, Rossweise was like a kitten held by the scruff of its neck. All her strength deserted her, and she lay helplessly on the cool stone floor.
"Release my tail… Leon…" she pleaded, mustering the last vestiges of her lucid will. "If you do not, I swear… once tonight has passed, I will kill you. I swear it upon my crown…"
"That is a concern for tomorrow, Rossweise. Besides, you know I have never feared death."
As he said this, he tightened his grip on her tail. A sharp, electric jolt instantly arced through Rossweise's entire body. She threw her head back, desperately fighting the restless inferno raging within her.
"Dragons crave conquest," Leon whispered, his lips close to her ear. "You desire to dominate everything. You yearn to exert absolute control."
"You are no different, Rossweise."
"From the day I awoke, you have trampled my dignity. You have treated me as your toy. An object for your amusement."
"So tonight, why don't we exchange roles? What is your opinion?"
"Have you ever been conquered? Have you ever been controlled, Rossweise?"
"I think not. But you are about to discover precisely how it feels."
Leon pressed his knee gently against her tail to pin it in place. He leaned over her, one hand gripping the nape of her neck, the other tangling in the silver hair near her temple. He brought his lips close to her burning cheek and whispered,
"And one more thing. Be silent, my Queen."
"Be… silent?" she panted, her breath hitching.
"Yes. Because—"
Knock, knock, knock—
"Your Majesty?" a maid's voice called from the other side of the door. "We are here to clear the table. Is now an acceptable time?"
Rossweise's eyes widened in panic. She opened her mouth to call for help, but Leon tugged sharply on her hair, forcing her head back and silencing her cry.
"If you scream," he said, his voice chillingly calm, "I will not hesitate to open this door. Then they will see their queen in this… undignified position. I do not care for my reputation. But what of you, Rossweise? Do you care?"
"Leon… you vile bastard!" she hissed, fury and humiliation warring in her eyes.
"Shh," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her skin. "Keep your voice down. You would not want them to hear."
"Your Majesty? Are you within? Is everything alright?" the maid asked again, her voice laced with concern.
"Tell them," Leon instructed, his tone brooking no argument, "that you are occupied. Now is not a good time. Instruct them to return and clean tomorrow morning."
Rossweise squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear of sheer frustration and shame tracing a path down her cheek. She drew a shaky breath and forced her voice into a semblance of normality.
"I am… I am fine," she called out, her voice trembling only slightly. "You may… return to clean tomorrow morning."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the maid replied. The sound of retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.
Leon allowed a slow, deeply satisfied smile to spread across his face.
"Good," he purred. "Now, let us begin, my dear… wife."