This was another purpose of Rossweise's trip: to understand the man she called her husband from a different angle, to see the world that had shaped him.
It was peculiar, she reflected. She hadn't been the sentimental type before, nor had she ever found much appeal in the cliché of "walking the paths you've walked." But after living side-by-side with Leon for so long, something within her had quietly shifted.
Yet, it wasn't that she had become more curious or romantic in general. It was specifically him—Leon—who stirred these feelings. If it were anyone else, Rossweise would likely find such notions unbearably saccharine.
It was like the unopened pile of love letters her eldest sister, Ishabella, secretly hoarded. For the longest time, Rossweise had never understood the point of letters in a relationship.
That was, until she herself began secretly keeping a journal, writing in it almost daily, meticulously noting down the small, shared moments of her life with Leon.
Then she understood. It wasn't the "letter" itself that mattered, but the profound emotions she poured onto those pages: the anticipation, the quiet contentment, the simple happiness.
Much like how she felt now, walking the paths Leon had walked, seeing the sights he had once seen with his own eyes.
Rossweise had no desire to hide these feelings or pretend otherwise. She wanted Leon to know these unspoken sentiments of her heart.
And Leon's response?
He reached over, took her cool hand in his, and intertwined their fingers firmly.
His dark, earnest eyes met her silver gaze, and a gentle evening breeze rustled her long, dark lashes.
"Alright then," he said softly, his voice a low murmur. "Let me show you the next place."
Rossweise smiled, a genuine, effortless expression of warmth. "Okay."
Perhaps this would be her only chance to visit Leon's homeland. Maybe it was the first and last time. So, she wanted to express everything on her mind while she could.
And luckily, her sometimes-foolish captive wasn't always intent on verbal sparring. When it was time for playful banter, they teased; when it was time for tenderness, he knew, intuitively, just how to respond.
Hand in hand, the two strolled through the streets of the lower district, a picture of two souls reveling in a stolen moment of peace and freedom amidst the looming storm.
.
.
.
They spent the whole day together, Leon guiding her to all the spots Rebecca's map had marked as safe.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Leon and Rossweise sat side by side on a public bench.
Rossweise held an orange-flavored ice cream Leon had just bought for her, taking small, delicate bites with a look of focused enjoyment.
Leon unfolded the map beside her, his eyes scanning it one last time. Only one more place he wanted to show her remained.
It was located in the middle district, another area Rebecca had flagged as secure.
Calculating the time, Leon figured they could make it there and back before full nightfall, just as Nacho had advised.
Decision made, he folded the map and hoisted the bag filled with their purchased recording stones.
"Alright, let's head to the last spot."
Rossweise glanced down at the ice cream in her hand, now reduced to its final bite nestled in the cone.
She stood up and handed it to him.
"Oh, so you get the ice cream, and I'm left with the tail end?" Leon chuckled, accepting it from her.
"This isn't just any tail end of an ice cream," Rossweise stated, her tone completely serious.
"Oh? And what makes it so special?"
"It's the tail end of an ice cream eaten by the Queen herself."
"...."
Only she could come up with such a regal description.
Leon looked at the last bite, noticing the faint, elegant imprint of her lipstick on the cone. Since it was a "royal gift," it seemed he should honor it. He finished it in one bite.
"Alright then, let's go."
"Mm."
Together, they set off toward the more affluent middle district.
As they walked, Rossweise asked, "Where is this last place?"
Leon hesitated for a moment before replying, "It's a place that holds a lot of meaning for me."
He offered no further explanation, leaving her curious, but she chose not to press, quietly following his lead through the gradually darkening streets.
When twilight had fully settled, they arrived at the middle district. Compared to the lower district, this area was noticeably more polished, with stalls offering fancier fruits and delicacies.
Leon led Rossweise across several clean blocks, eventually stopping before a stately, old church.
By now, evening had deepened, and the church's wrought-iron courtyard gates were closed for the day. Through the bars, they could see a few children playing on a well-kept lawn, watched over by two women dressed in simple nun's habits.
"This is...?"
"The Cosmod Orphanage."
Leon pointed to an old, slightly weathered wooden sign hanging by the gate, which bore the same name.
"More than twenty years ago, it was here, on these very steps, that a nun found me."
Gazing at the aged, serene church before her, Rossweise finally understood why Leon had chosen this place as their final destination.
She had told him she wanted to stand on his homeland, to learn about him from another perspective.
And so, he had brought her to the very place where he had begun, the place that had formed the foundation of who he was.
Though he'd been adopted at five by his master, Tiger, he had often returned to visit the nuns who had first cared for him. Even as a busy adult and a famed Dragon Slayer, he would come back on holidays to volunteer, to play with the children, to help with repairs.
The children had always loved him dearly; his natural affinity for caregiving and his quiet, protective strength had been evident even then.
Standing before the orphanage's gate, Leon and Rossweise's hands clasped even more tightly, a silent communication passing between them.
"It's been years since I was last here... So much has changed."
Whether it was his first, furious return to the Empire to deal with Victor, or his later investigations into the secrets of the Heartguard Dragon Scale and the Empire's conspiracies, Leon hadn't managed a single visit to the orphanage in all that time.
At least five years had passed...
Just then, one of the nuns in the yard seemed to notice them. She approached the gate, unlocking it with a soft click and offering a polite, kind smile.
"Good evening. Can I help you two with something?"
But Leon simply stared at her, transfixed, his breath catching in his throat.
Memories, vivid and warm, swirled in his mind.
Scenes from his childhood flashed before him like a beloved, well-worn picture book.
He saw himself, a tiny boy, celebrating his first remembered birthday at the orphanage—the very day this nun had taken him in from the cold church steps.
He remembered a time he'd gotten into a fistfight with another boy in the dorm, stubbornly complaining that the food this nun made was awful, only to later regret his words when she'd looked so hurt.
He saw a older version of himself, perhaps twelve, fighting off a rabid dog with his bare hands to protect a younger girl, his arms bloody and torn. And it was this nun who had rushed him, frantic with worry, to the hospital, staying by his bedside all night.
.
.
.
Nearly every foundational moment of his childhood had this woman's gentle, steadfast presence woven through it.
If not for his master and mistress, Leon might never have become the legendary Dragon Slayer.
But if not for this nun, Sister Carolyn, Leon Cosmodeous would have likely died in the cold twenty-five years ago, unnamed and forgotten.
Her name was Carolyn Cosmodeous, the only daughter of the orphanage's former headmistress. She had given him her family name.
Leon remembered her as older but lively, her hair streaked with grey, her step quick. Yet, in just these five turbulent years, it seemed she had aged more than a decade. Her hair was now fully white, and deep, caring wrinkles marked her once-smoother, gentle face.
"Sir?"
When he didn't respond, she repeated herself, her head tilting slightly.
Leon finally snapped back to the present, quickly adopting a neutral tone. "Ah... We're just travelers from a neighboring country, wandering around. Admiring the city."
"Oh, I see," she said, her smile warming. "It's a lovely evening for a stroll. Would you like to come inside for a moment? Rest your feet?"
Leon shook his head, a pang of guilt striking his heart. "No, that's quite alright. Thank you. We're fine here by the gate."
He consciously lowered his voice, layering it with his glasses and common clothes. It seemed to work; Carolyn hadn't recognized him.
It was for the best. Being recognized could bring danger to her and the orphanage, especially now—
But just as he thought he'd managed to remain anonymous, Carolyn tilted her head again, her wise, old eyes studying him with a hint of deep, puzzled familiarity.
"Sir, forgive me for asking... but have we... met before?"
Heart pounding, Leon shook his head a little too vehemently. "I don't believe so. My wife and I are visiting the Empire for the first time. You must be mistaking me for someone else."
"Is that so..." Carolyn's gaze softened, drifting away from them for a moment as she murmured quietly, almost to herself, "Then perhaps... I just miss that child too much..."
Leon blinked, his curiosity and a deep, aching affection overriding his caution. "Are you referring to... someone specific?"
The warm, maternal smile that appeared on Carolyn's face was answer enough, even before she spoke.
"His name was Leon."