After breakfast, Leon made his way to the front courtyard of the Silver Dragon Sanctuary, where he found Rossweise quietly discussing something with Anna, likely giving her final instructions.
With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, Leon strolled over. He glanced briefly at the head maid before offering Rossweise a cheerful, booming greeting.
"Good morning, dear wife!"
He put such enthusiastic emphasis on the word "wife" that it sounded almost like a formal vow.
Rossweise could only roll her eyes in response.
She knew exactly why this fool was being so loud—he was putting on a show of being the devoted husband in front of Anna.
If she teased him about it later, suggesting he must secretly wish she were his real wife, he would inevitably shoot back, "Anna was right there; we had to make it look convincing, didn't we?"
"Acting" was a conveniently flexible excuse—for both of them.
"Good morning, dear husband," she replied, her tone a mix of irritation and a strange, unacknowledged satisfaction she felt whenever she used the term.
Anna, standing nearby, stifled a knowing chuckle before composing her features into a professional mask. "Your Majesty," she said earnestly, "I will see to the tasks you've assigned to the best of my ability. Please do not worry."
"Thank you, Anna. We will return tomorrow night."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
With a respectful nod that included both her Queen and Leon, Anna turned and retreated into the sanctuary.
Once she was out of earshot, Leon turned back to Rossweise. "Tomorrow night? Where are we going?"
"Weren't you listening to a word I said?"
Leon shrugged innocently. "Did you say something?"
"It's not where I'm going; it's where we are going."
Leon blinked. "So… where are we going?"
"Sky City."
"A date?"
"No!"
"No need to get so worked up. It's not like you dislike going on dates with me."
"I do dislike going on dates with you," Rossweise countered, her voice firm.
"Sure, sure, you hate it, you hate it," Leon said, playing along. "I'm always the one timidly asking you out, and you never ask me. Happy now?"
A faint blush crept onto Rossweise's cheeks. Her silver tail, almost of its own accord, gave a playful swat at Leon's backside.
He could have easily dodged it, but he chose not to.
Thankfully, she held back her strength, making it more of a teasing flick than a real blow.
This silly little exchange had a name: "flirting."
"So, what's the business in Sky City?" Leon asked, getting back on topic.
"A meeting."
With that, Rossweise unfurled her magnificent dragon wings. In a shimmer of light, she transformed into her massive, majestic silver dragon form.
She lowered her great body to a height where Leon could easily climb onto her back.
"A secret meeting of the Dragon Kings," her deep, resonant voice explained.
.
.
.
The Twilight Tower stood as the central and tallest structure in Sky City, a symbol of the city's supreme authority.
It was said to have been erected when Sky City first opened its gates to all dragons, founded by the city's original creator.
As the signature building of the largest neutral city in the dragon world, the Twilight Tower also served as the primary venue for diplomatic discussions among the various dragon clans.
Though the dragon clans had fractured into different factions over time, they still maintained necessary exchanges for crucial matters like trade, culture, and external threats. For these, the Dragon Kings would convene within the Twilight Tower.
Today, for the first time in years, the top-level conference room at the tower's pinnacle was opened, ready to welcome each distinguished Dragon King.
With about half an hour until the meeting was scheduled to begin, the Dragon Kings had started to arrive one by one.
Inside the lavish conference room, a long, ornate table had been prepared. Several Dragon Kings were already seated.
"Senior Odin, I didn't expect you to attend."
"Senior, have you given more thought to the alliance proposal we discussed last time?"
"The esteemed Thunder Dragon King—it is an honor to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you."
One by one, the younger Dragon Kings offered respectful greetings to an elderly Dragon King seated on one side of the table.
Their words were filled with deference, for the dragon they addressed was Odin, the Thunder Dragon King, renowned as much for his wisdom as for his immense power.
Amid the polite murmurs, however, a voice with a completely different tone cut through the room.
"Well, well, the old Thunder Dragon himself! If even you're here, this must be serious business."
Odin largely ignored the flattery, preferring to keep his eyes closed in silent meditation.
But when this particular boisterous voice sounded, he felt compelled to offer some response, if only to prevent an awkward silence from settling.
Why? Because as long as the owner of that voice didn't feel awkward, someone else certainly would.
"Morgan, is a lack of decorum a family tradition you are determined to uphold?" Odin asked, his voice a low rumble.
"Not only that, but my son Anton has elevated it to an art form!"
Utterly cheerful, Morgan plopped himself down in the seat next to Odin and draped a familiar arm over the Thunder Dragon King's shoulders.
"By the way," Morgan continued, "my son told me all about the practical test in the Far North. He mentioned your eldest daughter, Yuna, performed quite admirably!"
The Thunder Dragon King shot him a look that clearly said, "You think I needed you to tell me that?" before closing his eyes once more, effectively dismissing him.
Morgan hailed from the Golden Sand Dragon Clan, one of the most ancient lineages.
Rumor had it his clan still preserved magical tomes dating back to the era of Tiamat, the Dragon God.
Yet Morgan himself hardly embodied such ancient prestige; he carried himself more like a perpetually grinning, mischievous uncle who refused to act his age.
Few would guess that he and Odin had risen to power during the same storied era.
It was this long-standing familiarity that allowed Morgan to behave so casually around the normally stern Odin.
The Dragon Kings continued their quiet conversations until the conference room doors opened once again.
This time, a striking beauty entered.
Her fiery red hair, flowing crimson dress, and meticulously applied makeup framed a beautiful, mature face. She exuded a unique, captivating aura, amplified by her cool, indifferent gaze.
"The Red Dragon Queen? Is she involved with the Constantine affair as well?" Morgan whispered to Odin.
This gathering of Dragon Kings had been convened primarily to address the threat of Constantine, who had recently acquired the fearsome Primordial Power.
Odin's gaze settled on the red-haired beauty. After a moment, he replied quietly, "I heard that shortly before Constantine acquired the Primordial Power, he launched an unprovoked attack on Red Dragon Queen Isabella's territory. It is logical that she would attend."
Morgan nodded in understanding. "That explains it."
Isha took her seat, gracefully crossing her legs and resting her chin on one hand. Her eyes swept across the other Dragon Kings in the room. Finding no immediately familiar faces, she simply closed her eyes to rest.
Female Dragon Kings were a rarity, and Isha's breathtaking beauty naturally drew surreptitious glances.
Of course, all the attendees were dignified rulers. No one would commit the faux pas of openly flirting in such a formal setting. They were content to admire her from a distance.
A few minutes later, the clear, sharp sound of high heels echoed from the hallway.
Morgan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow, are we heading toward a new era of equality? So many female Dragon Kings here today!"
Odin said nothing, his attention fixed on the doorway.
He didn't particularly care about the gender of the attendees.
But he felt a peculiar, subtle familiarity from the aura of the dragon about to enter.
The next moment, a woman with long, flowing blue hair stepped into the room.
Compared to the younger Red Dragon Queen, this woman appeared slightly older, radiating a mature, composed, and subtly seductive charm.
"I think I remember her… isn't she a Water Drag—"
"She is a Sea Dragon," Odin corrected calmly.
"Oh, right, the Sea Dragon Clan. But haven't they been reclusive for years? Why would one of them attend a meeting about Constantine?"
Morgan paused, then added, "And I thought their Dragon King was that old man, Poseidon. When did he turn into a beautiful woman?"
"Show some respect, Morgan. Her name is Claudia. She is Poseidon's eldest daughter," Odin replied, his tone grave. "The fact that Poseidon has sent her as his representative is highly significant."
Morgan's eyes lit up with realization. "Claudia is the heir apparent? The next Sea Dragon King?"
"Perhaps."
Leaning back in his chair, Morgan stretched his arms and said lazily, "I'll have to make sure to attend her coronation ceremony."
"You wouldn't even find your way to their palace without a Sea Dragon guide."
"Hey, I was just making conversation. You don't have to take everything so literally."
Odin simply snorted, not deigning to reply.
"Speaking of which," Morgan mused, glancing around the room, "almost everyone is here. But it seems the stars of today's meeting are still missing."
He noted the two conspicuously empty seats directly across from them, while every other place was occupied.
Odin pondered Morgan's words for a brief moment before letting out a low, knowing chuckle.
"The stars," he stated simply, "tend to make their entrance last."
As if on cue, a warm, familiar voice called out from across the table. They looked over to see Isha waving toward the doorway, a welcoming smile gracing her features.
"Little Rose, and brother-in-law," she said warmly. "You're here."