The couple returned to the Silver Dragon Sanctuary before evening fell. Dinner was a simple yet cozy affair, though the absence of their daughters' lively chatter left the grand dining table feeling strangely empty. Having spent the entire summer surrounded by the noise and energy of three young dragons, the sudden quiet now that the school year had begun was particularly palpable.
Leon idly pushed his fork through the remnants of his meal. Though he hadn't eaten his fill, his appetite had vanished. His mind was a whirlwind, occupied entirely by Claudia's words from earlier that day.
They had always considered the investigation into Shadow and Adam's machinations to be their paramount priority, viewing the prospect of another child as a distant, secondary consideration. But Claudia's perspective had forcefully challenged that hierarchy, forcing them to question their own assumptions.
"If dealing with the Imperial remnants is important," she had stated so matter-of-factly, "then isn't ensuring the growth and future of the Silver Dragon Clan equally important?"
Yet, even with this new frame of mind, Leon felt utterly lost about how to broach the subject with Rossweise. The core of his conflict was simple: he had never once set out to plan for a child. Noah and Muen's arrivals had been born from moments of passion and peril, a natural consequence of their intense, often tumultuous, bond. Little Light's conception had been entirely unplanned—who could have predicted Rossweise would forget her purification spell that one fateful night?
If they decided to have a fourth child, it would mark the first time in their six years of marriage they would be consciously and deliberately choosing to expand their family. It was that very intention, that sense of purpose, which left Leon feeling so conflicted.
With a soft clink, he set his fork down and looked across the table at Rossweise.
She hadn't eaten much either. She sat with her chin propped in her hands, her cheeks slightly squished by the pose—a rare and endearingly vulnerable look for the normally composed queen.
"No appetite?" Leon asked softly.
She shook her head, her silver hair shimmering in the candlelight. "Just... thinking."
Leon raised an eyebrow, venturing a cautious question. "Is it possible we're both thinking about the same thing?"
Rossweise blinked, her luminous eyes meeting his. "What are you thinking about?"
"You first."
"No, you go first."
"If you don't say it, I won't either."
"Fine," she conceded with a small sigh. "Let's say it together on three."
"Alright."
In unison, they counted down, "Three... two... one—"
Silence.
Neither spoke a word. A moment later, Rossweise kicked him lightly under the table, a playful grin finally breaking through her pensive expression. "You tricked me!"
"Alright, alright," Leon laughed, surrendering. "What are you thinking about?"
He straightened in his chair, his tone turning sincere. "Honestly... I'm feeling a bit anxious about the idea of a fourth child. It's not that I don't want one, it's just... I've never thought about having a child with that as the sole, premeditated goal. It feels... strange."
When he had awoken from his two-year coma to find a tiny Muen placed in his arms, he hadn't felt half as uncertain as he did now. This felt like being given a deadline for a momentous task, a confusing mix of excitement and pressure. The idea made the act feel less like a joyful union with his beloved and more like an assignment, and that discomforted him.
Rossweise nodded slowly, a look of understanding dawning on her face. "So, we are thinking about the same thing," she admitted, a faint, wry smile touching her lips. It was rare to see her so openly vulnerable, but her own uncertainty was plain to see.
"Claudia was right," Rossweise continued, her voice softer now. "I truly do love children... but approaching this deliberately is just so difficult."
To this potential future child, they would simply be another sibling to add to the lively Melkvey family. But to Leon and Rossweise, this would be their first time consciously preparing to welcome a new life. For all their shared experiences and hard-won battles, they were surprisingly stumped by something as fundamental as, "How do we begin?"
Just then, Milan entered with the other maids to clear the table. Noticing Rossweise's nearly untouched plate, Milan leaned closer, her voice full of concern. "Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?"
"No, not at all. Please, go ahead and clear it."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Milan exchanged a quiet glance with the other maids, signaling them to begin their work. Seizing the moment, she turned back to Rossweise.
"Are you missing the princesses, perhaps?"
Rossweise sighed, offering a tired but genuine smile. "Actually, I was thinking about your next princess." She paused, a memory seeming to surface. "By the way, Milan, I recall you recently went through a... parting of ways. Is that right?"
Milan blushed, turning her face away slightly, but her flustered reaction was answer enough.
"Oh? Have you reconciled?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Milan admitted, a shy happiness in her eyes. "We did. And... we're planning to marry at the end of this year. If possible, we're hoping to have a child soon after."
The mention of a baby took Rossweise by surprise, but it aligned perfectly with the clan's ongoing, if informally named, "Silver Dragon Clan Expansion Plan"—a gentle initiative they jokingly referred to as the "Romance Crash Course," designed to encourage more relationships and children within the clan. Seeing Milan's personal progress was a heartening sign the efforts were bearing fruit.
"Milan," Leon called, drawing her attention. "Are you at all nervous about the idea of having a child?"
Rossweise nodded in eager agreement, her curiosity genuine. They weren't prying for gossip; they were seeking perspective, hoping to find a mirror for their own concerns in someone else's experience.
"Nervous?" Milan pondered, her large, thoughtful eyes looking upward for a moment. She shook her head after a brief pause. "Not nervous, no. I think having a child is a source of great joy. Why be anxious about something so joyful?"
She continued, her voice warm, "It will be our first time being parents, so I suppose I'm more... excited and a little nervous. But not worried."
Leon and Rossweise exchanged a long, meaningful look, absorbing her words. "Excited and nervous?" Leon pressed gently. "Could you describe that feeling a bit more?"
Milan thought for another moment, massaging her temples as she arranged her thoughts. "Well... I believe that for something you know will bring joy, the preparation is naturally filled with both excitement and nerves. We all understand the concept of joy, but we can't predict the exact, unique kind of joy a new child will bring. That's the unknown, the wonderful surprise of a new life."
She smiled warmly at them both. "If you're feeling anxious, it's probably because you're focusing too much on the act of preparation and forgetting the profound joy that the child itself will bring."
Her expression softened into a look of serene contentment. "Don't overthink it, Your Majesty, Your Highness. Don't let the planning overshadow the promise."
By the time the day ended, Leon and Rossweise felt they had learned more from their young maid than from any strategic council or ancient tome.
That night, lying side by side in their bed, hands resting lightly on their own stomachs, they stared up at the darkened canopy in unison, both turning Milan's words over in their minds.
"I think Milan is right," Rossweise murmured into the quiet darkness. "We've been feeling anxious because we've been forgetting the joy. We've been focusing on the 'task' and not the 'reward.'"
Leon nodded, the movement slight in the dark. He understood her completely. "We've been overthinking it. We've been so focused on the 'how' and 'when' of the present moment that we've lost sight of the bigger picture—that a new life is a long, wonderful journey to anticipate."
"And that long journey..." she began, then paused, turning her head on the pillow to look at him.
Their eyes met in the dim light, and in perfect, unspoken harmony, they both whispered,
"...We'll go through it together."
Their shared words hung in the air for a brief second before they both burst into soft, relieved laughter, the warmth and connection between them flooding the room and washing away the lingering anxiety.
Beneath the blankets, their hands found each other, fingers intertwining in a tight, silent promise. As the sheer bed curtains drifted slowly closed, the space was filled with the soft, intimate sounds of their renewed connection, deeper and more purposeful than ever before.
"Take your time, Leon... yes, just like that—mm..."
"Tonight... after tonight, I won't use the purification spell."
"So... ah~ easy... a little slower."
In the throes of their passion, Rossweise's eyes shimmered with deep affection, her cheeks flushed. She reached out, her fingers gently brushing through his hair. With a tender, promising smile, she whispered the words that sealed their decision,
"So don't let me down, my little lion."