"That's how yesterday went—what do you think? Productive, right?"
In the sun-dappled garden pavilion of the Silver Dragon Palace, Leon relaxed beside Rossweise, sharing tea and recounting his adventures. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming night-blooming cereus, a stark contrast to the tense negotiations and dragon dens he had just left.
"Indeed, quite productive," Rossweise nodded, taking a sip of her tea. She set the delicate cup down with a soft click. "But with all the things you took from the Sea Dragon Clan, even if you promised to return the favor to Claudia, didn't she have anything more... forceful to say?"
"No, not really," Leon replied with a casual shrug, though a phantom ache twinged in his lower back. "I even told her I couldn't possibly accept it, insisting it was too much, but the princess just wouldn't take no for an answer. So, what could I do? I had to reluctantly accept all those good things."
As he spoke, he discreetly shifted his posture, the memory of Claudia's dismissive kick and his master's "disciplinary" taps still fresh. The Sea Dragon Princess, for all her generosity, had a physical way of expressing her exasperation. But three kicks for a trove of ancient knowledge and a priceless herb? Leon considered it a bargain.
Claudia's stern expression had barely concealed her grudging respect, and he knew the value of what he carried. Securing Constantine's cooperation, however temporary, with these items was a strategic victory in the unstable times ahead.
"Oh, I don't believe you," Rossweise interjected, her silver eyes glinting with amusement. "You probably went over there, charmed them with that reckless grin of yours, ate their food, and took whatever you could lay your hands on. They must have been too polite to refuse the Silver Dragon Prince."
Leon coughed lightly into his fist. Some truths were better left veiled in diplomatic ambiguity.
"So... where is the Ghost Lotus now?" she asked, steering the conversation back to substance.
"Oh, on my way back, I made a detour to Constantine's sanctuary and delivered both the primordial tomes and the Ghost Lotus to him personally."
Rossweise raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "And that was the entirety of the interaction?"
"That was it."
"And he didn't thank you?" she pressed, a smile playing on her lips.
"He did... in his own way." Leon cleared his throat, straightened his back, and lowered his voice into a passable imitation of the Crimson Flame Dragon King's haughty baritone. "Cosmodeous, don't think this means I'm indebted to you. This is merely the settlement of your own debt. If you have need of me in the future, send a dragon courier. And do not misinterpret my actions—I agree to this only because boredom is a greater enemy than you."
Rossweise laughed, a clear, melodic sound that made the flowers seem to bloom brighter. She covered her mouth, her eyes crinkling into delighted crescents. "That prideful, hardheaded fool!"
Leon shrugged, a wide grin spreading across his face. "From what I've seen, all you Dragon Kings share that particular trait, so don't act like you're any different."
At that, Rossweise dropped her hand, feigned offense, and gave his shoulder a playful shove with her own. "Excuse me? I am always perfectly reasonable and open to counsel!"
Leon's grin turned into a full-blown smirk. "Oh, of course, My Queen is the very picture of reason and never, ever stubborn~~."
She pinched his arm lightly in retaliation. "If I am stubborn, it is a trait you have cultivated in me! Perhaps you should reflect on your own conduct over the years—dodging formalities, avoiding straightforward answers, and treating grave matters with that infuriatingly casual air of yours."
Leon closed his eyes, accepting the mock rebuke. "Alright, fine. I'll keep quiet, Your Most Stubborn Majesty."
"I am warning you!"
After their laughter subsided, Rossweise's expression softened, and she guided them back to the matter at hand. "So, considering the clues from your master, you intend to return to the Southern Continent soon to investigate this 'Shadow'?"
Leon nodded, his own demeanor sobering. "The Dragon Clans have few leads, and Constantine searched for Adam for thirty years without success. Pursuing Adam directly is a dead end for now. Our best path is to follow the trail from the Empire's side."
"That is the most logical course," Rossweise murmured. Then, she added, "But Constantine having a daughter... that still catches me by surprise."
"I was stunned too when I saw the little one preserved in that crystal. How does a ferocious mountain of fire like him end up with such an adorable daughter? Is it possible she's adopted?"
"No," Rossweise shook her head. "Dragons rarely adopt. We place... a significant emphasis on pure bloodlines. Adoption does not guarantee that purity, nor does it ensure the passage of true ancestral power. Furthermore, few are willing to take on the unknown history and potential complications of a foundling."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of cheerful shouts from the courtyard.
"Oh, they start their new term at the academy next week. Why don't you wait until after that to depart for the Empire?" Rossweise suggested.
"Sounds good; that was my thought as well," Leon agreed. "I believe Noah is about to begin her final semester in the Young Dragon Division. Her advancement exams are at the end of it. If she passes, she will move up to the Youth Dragon Division."
Rossweise stood and walked to the pavilion's railing, looking out over the courtyard. From this vantage point, she could see a corner of the training grounds, where a heavily scarred practice dummy stood, its surface marred by the distinctive, scorched patterns of repeated lightning strikes.
"She just turned five, and she will be competing against younglings many years her senior."
Leon joined her, following her gaze to the weathered dummy. It was designed to withstand powerful attacks; the marks upon it were a testament to relentless, focused practice, not childish play.
"She stopped being just a beginner a long time ago," Rossweise sighed, a complex mix of pride and maternal concern in her voice.
"For her to have endured and pushed herself so far at such a young age... we cannot keep treating her as if she will break, can we?"
Rossweise thought of Noah's journey—sneaking off to the human royal city, learning to shield her friends with her own body, and demonstrating a maturity that far exceeded her years. Perhaps Leon was right. Perhaps it was time to trust in the strength they had helped her cultivate.
Yet, a part of her, the part that was purely a mother, still hesitated. Dragon culture prized sternness and resilience in raising their young, but the love she felt for her daughters was a fierce, all-consuming fire that defied tradition.
"Ah, there they are! I'm off to play with them!"
With that, Leon placed his hands on the railing and effortlessly vaulted over it, landing lightly on the grass below and striding toward where Noah, Muen, and Aurora were playing.
"Dad! You promised to teach me a new spell today!" Muen's voice rang out, full of energy.
"No problem! Anything you want to learn, I'll teach you!" Leon called back, his voice bright and full of affection.
Listening to the cheerful exchange, Rossweise felt a warm smile settle on her face as she watched her husband's retreating figure, now surrounded by their daughters.
Maybe, she thought, the answer to her earlier question had been there all along.
You become like the person you're with. The warmth, the unwavering dedication, the sense of responsibility that Leon carried—it had drawn her in, chipping away at her own icy isolation and shaping her into someone who could embrace this messy, beautiful family life.
"Stubborn Cosmodeous," she whispered to herself, the words filled with more fondness than reproach. "You stole my heart and changed my entire world."
With a resolve that felt both new and natural, she gathered her skirts in one hand. Then, in a move that would have scandalized her former self, she hopped over the railing just as Leon had, her landing far more graceful but her intention just as clear. She ran, a silver blur, to join the laughing circle of her husband and daughters.
In the quiet corner of the training grounds, the old, scarred dummy stood silent witness, as it always had, to the past struggles, the present joy, and the promising, uncharted future of the Melkvey family.