Chapter 41: Casmode

The maids felt that Her Majesty was in a good mood today.
No.
Not just good.
But very, very, very good.
And why did the maids have this feeling?
Because their well-known workaholic boss had surprisingly let them leave early – and for two consecutive days now.
Not only that, but Her Majesty had been smiling all day, unlike her usual stern expression.
After handling particularly tricky work, she would even happily hum pleasant tunes.
Based on all this, the maids had two bold guesses:
Either Her Majesty was expecting a third child;
Or Her Majesty was preparing to have a third child.
“I’ve already let you leave early, why are you still gathering there instead of going home to rest?”
From her throne in the Holy Temple, Rosvitha said without looking up from her work.
The maids immediately bowed, not daring to speculate further about Her Majesty’s unusual behavior. They pushed and nudged each other, leaving the Holy Temple one after another.
Once Rosvitha was alone, she unconsciously started humming cheerful tunes again.
In her fifty years since ascending to the throne, she had rarely been this happy.
During these fifty years, she had basically been repeating the same day:
Wake up, wash up, breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, overtime, rest.
Over and over, year after year.
The dragon race’s long lifespan was like an endless sea, and Rosvitha was a lonely boat in that sea, drifting aimlessly, carried further away by wind and waves.
But what lay further ahead?
Still just endless water.
Her work was the same – she would finish processing mountain-high piles of work logs at night, only to find another mountain had sprung up the next day.
Rosvitha never complained.
Because she knew complaining was useless.
Moreover, she was the Silver Dragon Queen. In her people’s eyes, she was their leader, their faith, their spiritual pillar. She couldn’t show fear or hesitation about anything.
But did she herself like being queen? Did she like facing endless work? Did she like spending half her life in this cage called a throne?
She didn’t know.
She thought she would grow to hate this life over time.
But in the end, with neither joy nor sorrow, Rosvitha felt no disgust towards it, let alone like.
Her heart was like a quiet forest, occasionally a few birds would fly out, but otherwise, there were no ripples.
What she never expected was that the one who would fill her monotonous life with joy would be a human.
That fool who had no special skills except slaying dragons and raising children – just one drunken “I like you” from him could keep her thinking about it day and night. Rosvitha couldn’t help but ask herself if she had truly started falling for him.
But he was human, and always contradicted her. Why would she fall for him?
The Silver Dragon Queen had solved countless problems for her tribe, but when it came to herself, she could never find a solution.
Yet she couldn’t ask anyone for help.
The only one who could uncover the secret in her heart was herself.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the Holy Temple, interrupting Rosvitha’s thoughts.
She looked up toward the sound – speak of the devil.
Leon was carrying two buckets of paint, with various sized brushes in the tool bag at his waist, along with two navy blue aprons to prevent stains.
Rosvitha looked Leon up and down in this getup, “What’s this, the dragon slayer got laid off and found new employment as an honorable… painter?”
Leon grinned but didn’t respond to Rosvitha’s teasing as he walked over.
“I made a rule before that no one was allowed to bring paint or similar things into the Holy Temple, or they’d lose half a month’s salary.”
She had mild OCD, and things like paint had strong smells. If spilled, they’d be very difficult to clean up.
However, although she said this, she didn’t actually stop Leon from coming closer.
Well, because the damn man didn’t have any salary to deduct anyway.
She put down her pen, resting her chin on one hand, looking down at Leon beneath the throne.
Leon looked back up at her, “When do you get off work?”
“Depends on my mood. Why, something up?”
“Need your help changing the Black Gold War Chariot’s color.”
Rosvitha’s interest was immediately piqued.
“Alright, let’s go.”
She closed her work journal, stood up from the throne, lifted her skirts, and quickly walked down the steps.
Leon was startled, “So decisive? Isn’t it not time to leave yet?”
“I told you it depends on my mood.”
Leon raised an eyebrow, “Oh? You mean you’re in a good mood right now?”
“You talk too much. Are we going or not?”
“Yes, yes, let’s go.”
The couple walked side by side, leaving the Silver Dragon Holy Temple.
They arrived at Rosvitha’s private warehouse in the back mountain and entered one after another.
Back when he was in the Dragon Slaying Army, the dragons he fought didn’t know his name or appearance, only describing him as “the man in black armor.”
Gradually, this description spread among the dragons.
After all, when a foreigner wielding lightning was going around chopping up every dragon he saw, it was bound to become well-known.
Just like what Rosvitha’s grandmother said the day before yesterday.
And when he put on the Black Gold War Chariot again before heading to battle, to avoid suspicion from the Silver Dragon tribe, he had hastily splashed some silver paint on the armor. Under cover of night, indeed no one recognized him.
But such crude disguise could only fool people temporarily, not forever.
Leon had a feeling he would be staying with Rosvitha for quite a while, at least until they exposed the empire’s conspiracy.
Considering the empire might get desperate and send a few more Dragon Kings his way, Leon decided to prepare in advance. He couldn’t afford to sharpen his weapons at the last minute like with Constantine.
After explaining to Rosvitha why he wanted to change the Black Gold War Chariot’s appearance, the two took out all the armor’s components piece by piece, tied on their stain-proof aprons, and then sat down on the ground to begin this “armor spa treatment.”
“Come to think of it, why didn’t you ask the girls to help? Isn’t Noia back?”
Rosvitha cradled the Black Gold War Chariot’s helmet in her arms, carefully applying the paint.
Leon hemmed and hawed a bit, “They’re… spending time with the old lady. It’s the first time both sides have met, so I definitely wouldn’t want to disturb them.”
That was a decent excuse.
But Noia had returned yesterday, and all three daughters had slept with their great-grandmother yesterday too.
It was almost evening now, so it had been a whole day already. No matter how close the generations were, they shouldn’t need to stick together constantly, right?
If Leon just said “Who wants to help daddy paint?”, Noia and Muen would probably fight over the chance to help.
What about Little Light?
Little Light could barely walk straight, so she’d better stay in her room.
Moreover, the daughters didn’t know the armor’s history. Helping wouldn’t tire them out, and it could improve the father-daughter relationship.
Thinking of this, Rosvitha’s thoughts stirred mischievously, “Oh, so you don’t want to disturb the children and the old lady.”
Leon snuck a glance at the dragon mother, then mumbled, “Yeah.”
“Sigh.” Rosvitha feigned disappointment.
“What are you sighing about?” Leon asked.
“I thought you wanted to do this alone with me.” She gently traced the black-gold war chariot’s helmet with her delicate fingernails, pouting like a wronged wife.
Leon saw through her theatrical act. “…You’ve had enough, Mother Dragon.”
Seeing her little trick exposed, Rosvitha remained calm. She collected herself and looked up at him. “Oh, now you say I’ve had enough? Why didn’t you say that when you told me you liked me the other day?”
“That was—!”
“Was what?”
“That was… because I was drunk. Can words said while drunk really count?”
Rosvitha snorted coldly, “Drunk after one sip? Who are you trying to fool? You were definitely clear-headed then.”
Leon rolled his eyes at her, not wanting to continue the topic.
Truth be told, he was indeed clear-headed that night.
Though he couldn’t hold his liquor well, he wasn’t so weak that one sip would make him lose control of his words and actions.
He remembered clearly what he’d said and how he felt when saying those words.
It’s just that bringing it up now made him blush a bit.
“Why so quiet? Do you regret it?” The queen pressed on.
Regret?
No, not at all.
He only regretted things he did against his conscience.
So that “I like you”… could [reluctantly] be considered General Leon’s true feelings, words from the bottom of his heart.
“Tch, who do you think I am? I said it and I meant it, what’s there to regret?”
Though Leon was stubborn, he was undeniably someone who owned up to his actions.
Rosvitha had always admired this about him.
“Then say it again,” Rosvitha coaxed.
“Will you ever stop? I said it and you didn’t respond, so what’s the point of saying it again?”
(Oh, getting agitated, are we?)
Rosvitha pursed her lips, muttering quietly, “Fine, don’t say it then. It’s not like I care.”
She continued painting Leon’s helmet. As she worked, Rosvitha noticed that all the paint this dog of a man had brought was the same color—silver.
What was he planning to do? Turn the black-gold war chariot into a chromatic skin – silver dragon limited edition?
“Why is it all silver?” Rosvitha asked casually.
“I like silver,” Leon replied without thinking.
Rosvitha paused, then coughed lightly twice, trying to get the dog man’s attention.
Leon cooperatively looked up at her.
He saw Rosvitha pretending to casually play with her silver hair.
Leon rolled his eyes wordlessly and lowered his head to continue painting.
“Ahem—”
He looked up again.
Rosvitha was holding the silver tip of her tail, still pretending to be casual.
Leon sighed, but chose to remain silent.
“Ahem—”
“Alright, alright! Yes, it’s the same silver as yours, happy now?”
The mother dragon’s hints were practically being shoved in his face. If Leon kept playing dumb, Rosvitha would probably force him to say it outright.
Better to take the initiative himself.
Finally satisfied, Rosvitha contentedly continued painting.
The couple worked for quite a while before finally completing the war chariot’s skin change.
Looking at the renewed armor, Rosvitha nodded with satisfaction. “Not bad, looks pretty good.”
“Mm.”
What a dull ‘mm’.
Rosvitha glanced at him sideways. The dog man’s face was expressionless.
His state and mood were completely different from earlier at the temple.
Rosvitha could guess why he was like this—
Their earlier conversation:
“Will you ever stop? I said it and you didn’t respond, so what’s the point of saying it again?”
The stubborn boy had finally taken a brave step forward, but that night she had only embraced and kissed him, without giving him any response.
Though he hadn’t said anything these past two days, he must have been somewhat bothered by it.
Rosvitha bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then quietly moved closer to him and gently tugged at his sleeve.
“What is it?” Leon asked in a deep voice, his gaze still fixed on the black-gold war chariot.
“Casmode.”
The queen stood on her tiptoes, leaned close to his ear, and breathed softly,
“I like you.”
xx
Black-gold War Chariot: So I’ve become a stepping stone in your romantic journey too, have I?