Rossweise stepped out of the sanctuary, holding the hem of her skirt as she gracefully descended the front stairs. Once she reached the sunlit courtyard, she raised a hand to shield her eyes, her gaze fixed on the horizon where a small, dark dot was steadily growing larger.
On the terrace, Shirley noticed the queen's rare departure from her morning routine and immediately hurried over to greet her.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Good morning, Shirley," Rossweise replied, her attention still focused on the approaching figure.
Shirley blinked, her eyes dropping to the envelope clutched in the queen's hand. A knowing smile touched her lips. "Ah~~ so that's it." Feigning innocence, she asked, "Your Majesty, is His Highness returning today?"
"Hmm."
"Your Majesty."
"What?"
"You seem to be looking forward to His Highness's return very much."
"Shirley, you have a particular talent for getting yourself reassigned to cleaning the outer stables."
"Your Majesty, don't be like that!"
Shirley covered her mouth, laughing quietly. She knew her queen well—proud and stubborn to a fault. Despite her age and status, everyone in the clan knew that the queen and her prince found it difficult to be apart for long. Yet, if you asked either of them directly, "Do you miss him?" or "Has it been lonely without him?" the answer was always a firm, "Absolutely not." It had become something of a cherished tradition.
Back when they first married, the official plan had been to present a united, harmonious front to the clan—a model royal couple. What no one had anticipated was how that performed affection would naturally evolve into something genuine and deep, so much so that acting was no longer necessary. Some couples were simply meant to be together.
Since Leon's dragon wings had been injured, preventing him from flying long distances, Rossweise usually arranged his return trips meticulously. Either she went to pick him up herself, or she dispatched a guard squad to escort him back. This time, however, she had done neither.
Shirley's curiosity was piqued. "How is His Highness returning, if I may ask?"
"The letter says he's riding back on a... 'subordinate,'" Rossweise stated, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
Shirley froze. "A... subordinate?"
"Mm-hmm. But I have a fairly good idea what he means by that." Rossweise glanced at Shirley. Their eyes met, and after a moment's pause, Shirley's expression lit up with understanding.
"Oh~~! It's that six-winged dragonhawk from before!"
"Exactly. I'd wager on it."
Shirley remembered the creature vividly. She had accompanied His Highness and the eldest princess, Noah, when they had pursued it after it stole the Jade Dew Dragon Fruit. Considering Leon's past kindness toward the intelligent beast, it wasn't surprising it would return the favor.
The figure in the sky grew steadily clearer—a large, winged creature, just as Rossweise had predicted.
"I'll go gather the maids and guards to form a proper welcoming party for His Highness," Shirley offered, turning to leave.
Rossweise shook her head. "No need, Shirley. There's hardly anyone left in the sanctuary to gather anyway."
"What? How is that possi—"
Before Shirley could finish her sentence, a cloud of dust kicked up in the courtyard. She turned to see the magnificent six-winged dragonhawk descending, its powerful wings beating the air as it hovered just above the ground. A familiar figure leaped nimbly from its back.
Shirley bowed immediately. "Welcome back, Your Highness."
"Morning, Shirley," Leon greeted her casually, but his eyes never left his wife, whom he hadn't seen for two long months.
The two of them stood in silence, barely two meters apart. Their gazes locked, and the warmth and unspoken words passing between them were almost tangible, spilling into the space around them like water overflowing from a full cup.
Recognizing the moment, Shirley decided a swift exit was the wisest course of action. She didn't bother concocting an excuse, simply slipping away from the air now thick with romantic tension.
With no one else around, the couple—married for seven years and parents to four daughters—finally allowed themselves to close the distance and embrace awkwardly, yet warmly.
"Welcome home, my love," Rossweise whispered into his shoulder.
"You've lost weight, Rossweise," Leon murmured, his hands settling comfortably on her waist.
"Haven't you been eating breakfast properly?"
"I've been eating just fine," she countered, leaning into his touch. "It's just that you haven't held me in so long, you've forgotten what I feel like." She paused, then leaned closer to his ear, her voice dropping to a sultry, playful whisper. "Tonight, I'll let you reacquaint yourself with me as much as you want."
From awkward reunion to bold flirtation in a few lines—it was a specialty of hers.
Leon chuckled, glancing around the seemingly empty courtyard. Aside from Shirley, who was very obviously not hiding behind a topiary bush and eavesdropping, there was no one else in sight. "What's going on? Did the Silver Dragon Sanctuary undergo massive downsizing while I was away? Not a single soul came out to greet me except for Shirley?"
"Oh, they're all probably in the backyard," Rossweise replied with a wave of her hand.
"The backyard? What are they all doing back there? Did you decide to throw a massive party the moment I left?"
"A party... you could call it that, I suppose."
"What's the theme?"
"Funeral."
"I see."
Ten minutes later, the couple arrived at the sanctuary's back door. From the top of the steps, they looked out over the expansive backyard and the bizarre scene unfolding before them.
Dozens of maids stood in neat, straight lines. Some were stifling yawns, others were stealing curious glances, and a few were desperately trying to suppress giggles at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
At the forefront of this assembled crowd stood a single, commanding figure. Even the Head Maid, Anna, and her assistant, Milan, stood respectfully behind her.
"I know that woman. I believe I'm her summon," Leon muttered, pointing at the figure with a deadpan expression.
Rossweise chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. "It would seem everything is going according to their plan."
The maids, in their formal black-and-white uniforms, stood at attention beside tables laden with food, a ceremonial fire pit, and an odd assortment of other items. At the center of it all, placed prominently on a table, was a large, framed photograph of Leon.
Muen was bawling her eyes out dramatically while simultaneously devouring a steak at lightning speed, seemingly replenishing the calories she expended through her tears.
Aurora was deftly juggling several smooth stones in one hand while using her other to snap pictures with a small camera, ensuring no potentially hilarious or blackmail-worthy moment went undocumented.
And Muse, the newest and youngest participant, stood quietly beside her older sisters, her wide ruby-red eyes taking in the entire spectacle with innocent curiosity.
"Even Muse is involved in this... production?" Leon asked, one eyebrow raised.
Rossweise shrugged. "It's their first attempt at a full-scale performance in two months. They've been practicing."
"Hilarious," Leon muttered, though he found himself more intrigued than annoyed. "I bet Muse will be the first to start crying for real."
Rossweise shook her head thoughtfully. "No, I think she'll try to fight Muen for the food offerings left for you."
"Wanna bet on it?" Leon grinned.
"You're so childish. But fine, what are the terms?"
"The loser handles all the household management duties for the next month. No delegating."
"Deal," Rossweise agreed without a moment's hesitation.
As the two quietly sealed their wager, Muse quietly pulled out a peculiar, trumpet-like object from behind her back. It was long, wooden, and had a flared metal bell at the end.
"What in the world is that?" Rossweise asked, squinting at the instrument.
Leon's eyes widened in horrified recognition. "Oh no, she didn't—"
But before he could finish his sentence, an ear-piercing, soul-rattling sound erupted from the instrument, a wailing, reedy note that reverberated throughout the entire backyard. It was a sound that could curdle milk and wake the dead.
The half-asleep maids jolted fully awake, their eyes wide with shock and confusion.
Anna, the Head Maid, leaned heavily against a nearby table, muttering under her breath, "What kind of strange and terrible things does His Highness teach the fourth princess..."
Milan clutched her ears, looking nervous. "Head Maid, is that... thing going to explode? Will the little princess be okay?"
Anna shook her head wearily. "No, I've seen His Highness... 'demonstrate' that thing before. It is an instrument, not a weapon. It won't explode." She did not, however, comment on the quality of the sound.
The strange, hypnotically awful melody continued, its bizarre notes hanging in the air.
Noah, who had been overseeing the proceedings with a serious expression, calculated the timing. It's about time, she thought.
She stepped forward and ceremoniously extinguished the fire in the pit. She then carefully, almost reverently, put away the framed photograph of Leon. Turning to the lead maid, she gave a firm nod.
"Begin."
The lead maid cleared her throat, straightened her collar, and composed her face into a mask of solemnity. In a loud, clear voice that carried across the backyard, she declared:
"The princesses' profound filial piety has moved the heavens! His Highness has been resurrected once more!"
Leon, still standing on the steps with Rossweise, pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Cosmodeous," Rossweise said, her voice a mixture of amusement and utter disbelief. "You'd better have a very good explanation for why our four-year-old daughter knows how to play a suona."