Book 3: Chapter 124 (1) |
After a day of fieldwork, Leon and Roswitha carried shopping bags full of recording stones as they headed toward the Lionheart Society’s clock tower in the Slum District.
The residents of the Slum District went to bed early. It was only eight in the evening, and while the Mid-District was still brightly lit, the streets of the Slum District were already nearly empty of pedestrians.
Only streetlights and a few stray cats occasionally darting across the road remained.
The couple strolled down the center of the street. Compared to the more bustling districts, *walking down the middle of the road* in the Slum District posed no risk of being hit by a carriage— Because no one could afford one.
Roswitha was still wearing high heels. After walking all day and now carrying one strap of the shopping bag, even her Dragon King physique couldn’t fend off the soreness in her ankles.
Leon noticed the slight irregularity in her steps and offered,
“Give it to me. I can handle it myself.”
“Oh, it’s fine—”
The queen rubbed her sore shoulders, murmuring, “Thanks.”
Leon glanced at her profile, then looked ahead, saying leisurely,
“You look like you’re pretty content.”
“Hm? Do I?”
“Yeah, you do.”
Leon spoke softly,
“Normally, no matter how tired you are, you always keep a cold face, showing no emotional change. But we’ve been out all day, and now you’re carrying this big bag of recording stones back to the clock tower. Not only are you not stone-faced, but on the way back, I caught you secretly smiling to yourself a few times.”
He shrugged, “So… that’s why I said you seem pretty fulfilled today.”
Roswitha didn’t deny it, nodding, “You’re right. Today was very fulfilling.”
“Because you fulfilled your little wish?”
“Little wish?”
“Yeah, walking the paths I’ve walked, seeing the sights I’ve seen.”
The beauty smiled faintly, adjusting a strand of hair, “It’s not just that.”
“What else, then?”
They rarely had chances to talk like this.
Most of the time, after a long day’s work, Roswitha was exhausted, returning to her room only wanting a hot bath and to collapse into bed.
Leon would often bathe with her.
In moments of physical and mental exhaustion, having someone to share intimate moments with helped her relax quickly.
They’d embrace and share light kisses in the bath, but they wouldn’t go further.
That kind of *savoring restraint* was the most wonderful feeling.
But after relaxing, there was rarely time for heart-to-heart talks.
Or, when they did have plenty of time to chat, they’d discuss “serious matters.”
Like whether Old Kang had been behaving lately, or their daughters’ study plans for the next semester.
So they seldom talked about themselves.
Only when they were far from the chaos of work and the trivialities of life could they talk about each other, about things they were too stubborn to admit normally.
By chance, this was the Empire’s Slum District, and they were a couple no one recognized.
By chance, they had at least half an hour before reaching the Lionheart Society, giving them time to speak freely with each other.
Roswitha walked with light steps, naturally swinging her slender arms,
“What else made me feel fulfilled? Hmm… probably… you.”
Leon raised an eyebrow, quickening his pace to keep up, “Me?”
The queen glanced at Leon, the corners of her mouth curling slightly, “Yeah, you.”
“Today, I went shopping with you, petted cats, ate at all sorts of roadside stalls—oh, you humans call those little food stands in the streets and alleys ‘roadside stalls,’ right?”
Leon watched her count off the things they’d done today on her fingers, one by one.
After a moment, he smiled, nodding, “Yeah, they’re called roadside stalls.”
“Mm… the hygiene’s a bit lacking, but the taste is decent, full of *earthly charm*.” Roswitha gave an honest review.
Leon blinked, teasing, “But eating at roadside stalls doesn’t exactly suit your queenly status, does it?”
“When I’m out with you, I’m not a queen.”
Roswitha’s steps suddenly stopped.
Leon stopped, too, turning to face her.
She removed her wig, revealing her radiant silver hair.
It shimmered under the moonlight, reflected in someone’s dark pupils.
Looking at Leon, she finished the second half of her earlier statement, “I’m not a quee.,”
“I’m your wife.”
A night breeze happened to blow through the street at that moment, rustling past. The streetlamp above buzzed intermittently, and soft cat meows echoed from the alley.
Silver hair swayed in the wind, slightly covering her flushed cheeks.
After a brief gaze, Roswitha was the first to back down—
“Oh, I mean, your wife in name, yeah.”
The Silver Dragon Clan prided itself on speed—striking fast, retreating faster, never letting the opponent catch their *skill cooldown*.
And that damned “fake marriage” agreement always provided the perfect escape for their heartfelt confessions.
Leon understood her, so he never pestered her with childish questions like, “Do you even care about me?”
Whether she cared wasn’t about what she said, but what she did.
Everything Roswitha did, including coming to this unfamiliar human nation, was proof of how much she cared for Leon.
Otherwise, as the Silver Dragon Queen, how could a mere human have captured her heart?
“Well, since it’s a wife in name…”