Moonās supposed "sevenfold love" for her sister had now transformed into sevenfold pain.
She couldnāt even hold out until they returned home to use the bathroom.
If possible, she wanted to commandeer the parkās restroom under the authority of her title as the "Second Princess of the Silver Dragons."
Noa, Helena, and Aurora waited patiently outside the restroom, exchanging occasional glances.
If Moon was lucky, sheād walk out. If less so, she might crawl out. If luck abandoned her entirely, Noa would have to go in and rescue her.
"How many ice creams did she eat?" Noa asked.
"Seven," Aurora replied.
Noa blinked in confusion. "Why seven? Isnāt that excessive?"
"She originally bought ten."
"Did you eat the other three, Aurora?" Noa asked, already planning how to handle her two troublesome sisters tonight.
Aurora shook her head quickly. "Uhā¦no, I didnāt. We had⦠a reliable helper."
Helper? She meant the pigeon that had been forced to eat three of the ice creams.
Noa sighed. As long as Aurora was fine, she decided not to pry into the identity of the so-called "helper."
---
About ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Moon. Noa finally stepped forward.
"Iāll go fetch her."
Moments later, Noa emerged, carrying an utterly drained Moon on her back.
Moon slumped over her sister, her big eyes swirling in dizzy spirals. Her little arms dangled limply over Noaās shoulders, and her tail hung lifelessly.
"Iāll never eat ice cream again," she mumbled weakly. "Ice cream⦠evilā¦"
Aurora approached, poking Moonās limp tail, then patting her cheeks.
"Second Sister is beyond saving," Aurora declared solemnly.
"Letās head home," Noa said.
"Alright."
The little dragonesses passed through the clan square and residential streets, finally reaching the Silver Dragon Sanctuary.
---
As they entered the sanctuaryās grand hall, a melodic and graceful piano tune filled the air.
"The sound is coming from Momās piano room," Aurora said. "But itās been ages since she played, hasnāt it?"
Rosvisser, burdened with her duties, rarely had time for piano practice. Any free moments were often spent with Leon, ensuring "assignments" were completed.
The last time Aurora had heard her mother play was shortly after she was born, supposedly to instill some musical inclination in her.
As Aurora grew older, however, her interest turned toward magical research, leaving music far behind. Rosvisser didnāt mindāshe believed her daughters should pursue what made them happiest.
Although Rosvisser herself wasnāt deeply passionate about music, she occasionally enjoyed showcasing her skills when the mood struck.
The pianoās soothing notes resonated throughout the sanctuary, drawing the dragonettes to slow their steps and savor the rare performance.
---
But as they immersed themselves in the melody, a sharp, piercing sound suddenly interrupted.
It sliced through the tranquility like a blade, jarring and unexpected.
Noa frowned. "Itās not exactly badā¦but what *is* that? Iāve never heard anything like it."
"Is this some kind of unique Silver Dragon instrument?" Helena asked curiously.
Noa shook her head. "No, and it doesnāt seem like something Mom would enjoy playing. Aurora, any idea what it is?"
Aurora scratched her head, equally perplexed. "No clue. None of Momās instruments can make a sound this⦠aggressive."
From Noaās back, Moon weakly raised a hand. "I⦠I know what it isā¦"
"Youāre awake, Moon? What is it, then?"
"Dad showed me onceā¦" she croaked. "He said itās a new instrument he made because the sanctuary didnāt have oneā¦"
Noa and Aurora exchanged wary glances.
Leon was a dependable and straightforward fatherābut only in battle. In everyday life, his eccentricity often left his daughters bewildered.
Aurora, in particular, had suffered greatly. She was convinced her indifference to music was 70% her dadās fault.
When she was still in the womb, Leon had allegedly played all sorts of bizarre "music" near Rosvisserās belly. At least, thatās what her mom had told her.
Now, hearing that their father had invented a new instrument, Noa and Aurora froze in dread.
"Whatās it called?" Noa asked cautiously.
Moon blinked dizzily. "Dad called it⦠a āEargasm Maker.ā"
The sisters exchanged a horrified look.
"We need to leave," Noa said decisively.
"Agreed, Big Sister!" Aurora added. "Helena canāt find out how *weird* our family actually is!"
"Hey, Helena, letās head upstairs and rest before dinner," Noa said hastily.
"Okay," Helena replied, though she seemed a bit puzzled by their abruptness.
The trio hurried upstairs, leaving the increasingly chaotic sound behind.
---
### Ten Minutes Earlier
In the piano room, Leon stood proudly beside a gramophone he had somehow unearthed.
"Rosvisser, I think itās time to start prenatal education for our fourth child!" he declared.
Rosvisser lounged on the couch, her silver tail draped over the side, lazily flicking in response.
Her gaze shifted from the gramophone to her husbandās overly earnest face.
"Youāre not planning to play *those* human classics again, are you?"
Leon blinked. "What do you mean āagainā? Iāve never played those before!"
Rosvisser snorted. "Strange, then. If you never played them, why do I remember you sneaking into my room at night while I was pregnant with Aurora to blast weird music at my belly?"
"Wait, you were awake back then?!"
"Not fully. I only woke up because of *you,* not the music."
Leon scratched his head in confusion. "What did I do?"
"You didnāt stop at the music. You started singingāloudly."
Rosvisser shuddered at the memory, sitting upright as if to shake off the lingering discomfort.
"Promise me, dear. Do whatever you want, but *donāt sing.*"
Leon blushed. "Whatās wrong with my singing? Is it that bad?"
Rosvisser didnāt hold back. "Itās *lethal.*"
"Then how did you tolerate it back then?"
Rosvisserās lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Because you looked so earnest and adorable. I couldnāt bear to stop you."
Leonās eyes sparkled. "Ah, Rosvisser! You were already falling for my charm back then!"
"Donāt flatter yourself, dear. āAdorableā was *not* a compliment."
"ā¦Whatever."
Shaking his head, Leon patted the gramophone beside him. "Past is past. Now, itās time to let our fourth child experience the worldās wonders early!"