After Mevis left, Rossweise remained by Leon's side, her vigil uninterrupted. Around nine o'clock, a faint shift in the bedcovers and a soft mumble signaled a change. Leon was stirring.
The doctors had been optimistic about his recovery, suggesting he would likely wake tonight. Seeing the prediction come true, Rossweise felt a wave of relief. It seemed their eldest daughter's bustling energy hadn't been as draining as she'd feared; the tea and snacks had apparently sufficed without requiring hours more of effort.
Once the room was quiet again, save for Leon's steady breathing, Rossweise resumed her seat. She watched him quietly, the distant, carefree laughter of Mevis and Noah playing in the backyard drifting through the window like a gentle reminder of the peaceful life they fought to protect.
Then, the thought Mevis had interrupted earlier returned, this time with a determined upgrade. "Since he's waking up tonight, he'll have to fulfill our promise," she murmured to herself. "Better to do it before the children interrupt us again." A pragmatic glint entered her eyes. "But knowing this guy, he'll try to weasel out of it. I'd better prepare."
With newfound purpose, Rossweise stood and quietly left the room. She moved to the door of her daughters' rooms and, without knocking, gently pushed it open, calling softly, "Mom's coming in. Is anyone here?"
Silence greeted her. They were all still engrossed in games with Mevis in the backyard. Perfect.
She stepped inside and went straight to Aurora's room. As the daughters had grown, they no longer shared beds, and Rossweise had arranged a separate bedroom for each. Muen had initially protested, often sneaking into Noah's room at night until Noah, unable to scold her younger sister, relented and let them continue sleeping together. Aurora and Muse, however, lacked that intense "sister complex" and slept obediently in their own spaces.
Rossweise pushed open the door to Aurora's pink-themed bedroom. A teddy bear sat on the bedside table—a gift Leon had given Rossweise long ago. Years earlier, Aurora had suffered a severe fever followed by persistent nightmares. Nothing helped until Leon suggested, "Let your mom's teddy bear keep you company. It'll protect you in your dreams." Whether it was psychological comfort or some latent authority in the General's words, the nightmares ceased once the bear was placed in her room, and it had remained there ever since.
Shaking off the memory, Rossweise walked to Aurora's bed and bent down, rummaging beneath it. After a moment, she retrieved a wooden box. Inside lay an assortment of bottles, jars, and intricate magic formation diagrams—Aurora's collection of unfinished experiments, stored but seldom revisited.
Sifting through the contents, Rossweise's fingers closed around a small brown pill. She held it up to the light; it had a faint sheen, almost resembling a coffee candy. A satisfied smile touched her lips. "Perfect. Aurora, Mom's borrowing this for now. Consider it compensation for what you did to your father."
She returned the box to its hiding place and stood, gazing at the pill in her hand. A mischievous curve formed on her lips. "Leon, tonight, there's no escaping me."
Around midnight, Leon slowly opened his eyes. His first sensation wasn't confusion but a dull throb in his right cheek. "Ugh~~" The last thing he remembered was his mischievous daughter rushing for a hug, only to land a solid uppercut on his face.
He tried to sit up, wincing as he glanced at the wall clock. "It's already past midnight. Everyone's probably asleep…" The room was dark, and Rossweise's side of the bed was empty. Blinking, he looked toward the study. Sure enough, a light was on.
Pushing back the covers, he got out of bed. His body was still weak, forcing him to lean against the wall as he shuffled toward the study door.
Rossweise was sitting behind the desk, reading. The elegant cover suggested another romance novel. She wore a thin-strap nightgown, one strap slipped off her smooth, rounded shoulder. The soft curves of her chest were faintly visible, a dragon pattern tracing a line downward into mysterious territory that invited the imagination. Under the desk, her long legs were crossed, a dragon-scaled slipper dangling precariously from her fair, delicate foot.
She flipped a page with one hand while twirling a strand of hair with the other, her head lowered as if completely unaware of his presence.
"Ahem—" Leon cleared his throat twice.
"Hmm?" Rossweise finally looked toward the doorway. "Oh, you're awake." She closed the novel, rested her chin in her hands, and smiled, her eyes narrowing. "I thought you'd be out for days." Her tone was gentle, laced with concern and relief.
Leon blinked, taken aback. This side of his dragoness wife felt... unusual. Still, he didn't press it. He nodded and replied, "Our daughter held back. Otherwise, I'd probably be out cold for weeks."
"Mhm, mhm." Rossweise hummed in agreement, then paused, her voice tentative. "So... does that mean we can move forward with our agreement now?"
A chill ran down Leon's spine. He tried to assess his physical state. How to describe it? It was as if he hadn't done anything, yet he felt the deep exhaustion of completing a 24-hour battle drill. If he went ahead with their "agreement" in this condition, Rossweise would undoubtedly dominate the entire process. Worse, it stirred unpleasant memories from his adulthood oath ceremony, where the dragoness had implemented a "three days of smoldering flames, five days of blazing infernos" regime to keep him weak and suppress him continuously.
So… "I just fought a battle. Can I rest for a few days?" Leon attempted to negotiate.
"But we agreed, didn't we? Once we defeated Shadow, we'd fulfill our promise immediately," Rossweise countered, her tone reasonable. "Who knows when the next enemy will show up? We have to seize the moment. You said that yourself."
Leon rubbed his forehead. "But look at me. I can't even stand steadily right now. Surely I won't be at my best, right? So let me rest for a few days, and then we can talk."
"Hmm... well, if that's the case, fine." Rossweise stood, picked up a cup from the desk, and walked toward him. "We'll do it another day then."
Hmm? Why is this dragoness being so understanding today? Leon wondered suspiciously. Something doesn't feel right. Is she planning to ambush me after I fall asleep? Or... had her inner housewife persona finally awakened? Did she now understand the struggles of a married man?
"Here, drink this first," Rossweise said, handing him the cup. It looked like coffee.
Leon raised a brow. "Coffee? Drinking this at midnight—won't it keep me awake?"
"Don't overthink it. It just looks like coffee. It's a special nutrient concoction the doctors made for you. It'll help you recover faster."
"Oh, okay." Trusting her, Leon downed the "nutrient concoction" in one gulp. He licked his lips. "Hmm, tastes a bit like chocolate. Not bad." Then he frowned slightly. "But I remember my previous nutrient drinks weren't this color. Is this a new formula?"
Rossweise smiled slyly and nodded. "That's right."
"Oh, what's the main ingredient?"
"Dragon Power."
"Oh, Dragon Po—wait, what? Dragon what?!"
"Dragon Power~"
Crack— The cup slipped from Leon's hand, shattering on the floor, much like his already fragile composure.
"You... Isn't Dragon Power ridiculously hard to make? Where did you even get it?" he asked, unwilling to believe it.
"Oh, it's not from an alchemist. Aurora made it." Rossweise's smile was radiant. "Isn't our daughter brilliant?"
"Brilliant my foot!"
Rossweise propped her chin in her hand, her silver tail swaying slightly behind her. Barefoot, she slowly advanced toward him, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Leon instinctively backed away in time with her steps until his back pressed against the study door.
She leaned in close, her eyes locking onto his with a playful glint as she feigned innocence. "I've already agreed to let you rest. So don't even think of doing anything strange to me... hubby~."
Leon closed his eyes in despair.
Dragon Power, I hate you. Aurora, I hate you. Rossweise, I hate you!