Vol. 3 Ch. 67

Leon was still lying in bed, lost in his own thoughts.

With his daughters busy excelling at the academy, his dragoness honing her Primordial Force skills, and his own "Nine Gates of Hell" technique reaching new heights, he found himself feeling… oddly invincible in his married life—a feeling he hadn’t experienced even in his dragon-slaying days leading campaigns across the Empire.

*Could marriage really change a man so much?*

BAM—

The loud bang of the door interrupted his wandering mind.

Judging by the strength and sound, it could only be his dragoness. After all, she was the only one in the entire Silver Dragon Sanctum bold enough to slam “Her Majesty’s bedroom door” like that.

Leon had a hunch that something must’ve set her off. Otherwise, there was no way she’d come barging in so forcefully.

Just before Rosvisser stormed in, Leon quickly ran through his recent activities, wondering if there was anything he’d done that might’ve set her off.

*Hmm… maybe she noticed when I braided her hair into bunny ears while she was asleep? Or when I hid all her flat shoes, so she’d have to wear those lace-up high heels I love?*

*Or… could it be the memory stone where I recorded her singing in the bath?*

Any of these could probably land him in hot water.

But!

Instead of panicking, Leon actually felt a bit excited.

As they say, there’s no household rule that can truly restrict a seasoned married man.

Only a rookie husband would get caught off guard, unlike Leon, who had mastered this game.

*Bring it on, dragoness!*

With that thought, he heard the hurried clacking of high heels approaching.

In moments, his silver-haired beauty stormed into the bedroom.

Leon leisurely sat up, then calmly picked up the pillow beside him and held it in front of his face.

Almost simultaneously, Rosvisser grabbed a stuffed toy from the bed and aimed it at his head.

But Leon had already anticipated her move, blocking the incoming plush bear with the pillow.

Unfazed, she lashed out with her tail, aiming for his chest.

Yet Leon dodged with ease, lying back just in time for her silver tail to brush past his nose.

Infuriated, she pounced onto the bed, intent on pinning him down for a thorough “lesson.”

Naturally, Leon had predicted this move too. With a flick of his feet, he slid under her skirt like a slippery eel—*hmm, black lace panties, nice touch, my dragoness*—and then darted towards the foot of the bed, landing gracefully on the floor.

His escape was seamless, not a single wasted movement—a textbook display of “anti-domestic-strike” tactics.

Frustrated by her failed attempts, Rosvisser glared at him from where she lay sprawled on the bed, teeth gritted.

“You get back here—”

Leon & Rosvisser (simultaneously): “—right now.”

A pause.

Leon & Rosvisser: “Stop copying me!”

Another pause.

Leon & Rosvisser: “Do it again and see what happens!”

Yet another pause.

Leon & Rosvisser: “Argh! I’ll kill you, you mangy beast!”

With that, Rosvisser grabbed the pillow by the bedside and hurled it at him.

Leon caught it effortlessly, gauging that their “routine” had just about run its course.

He patted the pillow, set it aside, and greeted her as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

“Good afternoon, my—my foot!” Rosvisser straightened her clothes and huffed, plopping down onto the edge of the bed.

Leon, seeing her fuming, strolled over and plopped down beside her, completely ignoring her murderous glare.

Undeterred by her cold shoulder, Leon casually picked up her tail and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Rosvisser made a token effort to pull it away, but Leon let her tail slap against his arm, putting on an exaggeratedly wounded expression.

“Oh, Your Majesty’s tail is as mighty as ever! A poor, fragile soul like me stands no chance~”

Marital Rule #1: Feign weakness to draw them in.

Rosvisser tried to keep a stern face, but her lips were twitching as she pulled her tail back.

“Now that you know the strength of this queen, you’d better be a good boy from now on.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, your wisdom is unmatched.”

Marital Rule #2: Agree readily, change nothing.

“You say that now, but I know you’ll forget it in an instant,” she replied with an air of disappointment.

“Now, now, everyone knows I’m the most devoted husband there is.”

Marital Rule #3: Rope in others; shared blame is diffused blame.

Rosvisser gave him a teasing glare, “Calling me ‘wife’ so intimately, someone might actually think we’re really married.”

Leon smirked inwardly. *Got her.*

*Unlike other women, my dragoness doesn’t turn all lovey-dovey after a little sweet talk.*

For Rosvisser, hearing “We’re not actually married” or “I don’t even like you” was the real signal that she was pleased.

Don’t ask—just years of experience talking.

“So,” he finally asked, “what exactly brought you storming in here?”

Rosvisser opened her mouth, then hesitated.

She’d initially wanted to ask, *Have we hit a cool-off period? You don’t seem as interested in me lately, have you?*

But voicing that would mean admitting she cared about his feelings toward her.

And given the opportunity, this man would never let her live it down.

After a brief pause, she chose a different approach.

“Lately, it seems like our fake marriage plan has run into a slight problem.”

Leon raised an eyebrow, “Problem? What kind of problem?”

“Well… Milan and the others seem to think… they think we’re getting stale.”

“Stale? How exactly?”

“…They think our feelings are fading!”

“But didn’t you always say we don’t actually have feelings for each other? How could something that isn’t there fade?”

“Well, we don’t,” Rosvisser clarified, “but from the outside, people are supposed to believe we do.”

Rosvisser added thoughtfully, “Milan was just here, and she said it seems like we’re going through a ‘post-marriage cool-off’ phase… She said you’re not as invested in me as you used to be.”

She turned red, feeling somewhat guilty, since this was really her own question, but for the sake of her “queenly persona,” she’d placed the responsibility on the maid.

Leon blinked, then gave a nod, “I get it… Since we’re putting on an act, it should be judged by others, not by our own standards, right?”

“Exactly.”

“So, what did you tell Milan?” Leon asked.

Rosvisser hesitated before mumbling, “I… just told her we’re the same as always.”

“Not exactly the most convincing answer, is it, dragoness?”

“Well, if you’re so great at it, why don’t you take over?”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to!”

Leon cleared his throat and put on a serious face.

“First off, we’re not in a cool-off period. Everyone knows the ‘itch’ for old couples only comes after seven years of marriage, and we’ve only been married for five. Not time to itch yet.”

“Second, even in two years, there won’t be any cool-off period, because—”

Rosvisser’s curiosity was piqued by his confident tone, “Because?”

“Because every day with you is a joy. Where would a cool-off come in?”

Rosvisser: (//?v?//)

“Also, I don’t think showing affection means we have to cling to each other all the time. Giving each other personal space can actually improve the quality of married life.”

Rosvisser: (//?v?//)*Nods along.*

“And, I’ve never once not cared about you. I care about you a lot, Rosvisser. Without you, I wouldn’t survive.”

Rosvisser: (//?v?//)!!!

“…Because who else would cook for me?”

Rosvisser: …?

“And lastly.” Leon turned to Rosvisser, his eyes locking onto her silver gaze as he spoke slowly, deliberately,

“If anyone still thinks we’re in a cool-off period or that we’re not in love, they should borrow a memory stone from Vice Principal Wilson for *A Love that Shakes the Heavens* and fast-forward to the final line.”