Chapter 40: Melkway
Down the hatch went a glass of red wine, and just like that, the invincible General Leon was on the verge of toppling over.
Roswiser tried really hard not to wear a disgusted look, but how was she supposed to hold back?
She knew his drinking capacity was subpar, but to this degree… that was a rare talent.
“Are you even okay, you big oaf…?”
Leon was sprawled over the table, his cheeks glowing like ripe tomatoes, and his eyes were all dreamy—it was obvious he was tipsy.
And looking at his wine glass, there was enough left to host a couple of goldfish.
“I told you I can’t drink… yet you insisted…” He was almost out cold but still had the nerve to sass Roswiser.
Such was the indomitable spirit of a top-notch Dragon Slayer, engraved in his very bones.
“Did I pry your mouth open and pour booze down it?” Roswiser shot back, unhurried and unfazed.
“You… called me…”
“What did I call you?”
Face redder than a beet, Leon wriggled and buried his head in the crook of his arm, muttering, “Call me hubby if you want me to drink with you…”
At that, Roswiser raised an eyebrow, surprised, swirling her wine glass, and said in a leisurely manner, “Tsk, so you admit it. Looks like I’ve found the magic phrase that can soften your big mouth.”
The Dog Man’s lips were like ginseng; the more they soaked in the wine, the softer they became.
Leon still kept his head down and gave a middle finger erect. “I swear… hic—never again will I drink with you, absolutely not!”
Roswiser chuckled lightly, “How about I call you hubby one more time? You drinking or not?”
“… Not drinking!”
“You hesitated, Leon. Deep down, you want to hear me call you hubby, don’t you?”
“Who… who wants to hear that?!”
Leon sat up, his face on fire, and to his blurry eyes, Roswiser turned into five… six… seven people, yet he still persisted in arguing, “Just one ‘hubby’ isn’t going to make me do what you say, no way!”
“Oh wow, such a manly spirit you have! Hu~bb~y~”
“… I’m really going to puke.”
“Hmph, silly.”
Roswiser giggled, glancing at him before taking another sip of her wine.
A little alcohol goes a long way in numbing the senses.
It can loosen lips and make one blurt out things they usually wouldn’t dare to say.
Of course, whether it was the alcohol doing the work or just an excuse to speak the truth, who could tell?
Roswiser turned her gaze back to Leon, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes just a sliver open, sparkling silver like a crescent moon in the night sky—radiating ambiguity.
“Did you tell Grandma today that we’re madly in love?”
“Uh.”
Leon leaned against his chair, staring down at the tiles on the balcony, “Didn’t we agree to act all lovey-dovey in front of outsiders?”
That was one reason, but definitely not the whole story.
He had no idea that the old woman was Roswiser’s grandmother; he thought she was just some gossiping aunt out of nowhere.
As the questions piled up, he felt somewhat attacked or, let’s say, like their relationship was under scrutiny.
So, he emphasized, “My wife and I are very much in love”—and repeated it twice.
That was another reason.
As for whether “being questioned on their relationship is why I stressed that I love my wife” was truly what Leon’s heart felt…
Well, that’s hard to say!
Wise as she was, how could the Queen not pick up on the subtle hints in the Dog Man’s words?
Especially since he was tipsy now—he couldn’t help but show a few telltale signs.
“Well, now there’s no one around but us.”
Roswiser fixed her gaze on Leon. “Will you still say those words?”
Leon shot back bluntly, “Why would I say anything when it’s just us two?”
After he spoke, a few seconds passed with no response from Roswiser.
Leon blinked, sensing a weird vibe, and turned to look at her.
Roswiser still rested her chin on her pretty hand, batting her lovely silver eyes at him.
But there was something more in those eyes—a glimmer of hope.
Women, those natural listeners; no matter how fake sweet nothings sound, they’re willing to listen with all their hearts.
Some sweet nothings aren’t even lies.
Locked in a gaze, neither of them flinched.
After some time, Leon felt like something tugged at his heart—it might have been the alcohol, or perhaps his true feelings floated to the surface, triggered by the booze.
He opened his mouth, but before any sound came out, he could already see the glint of hope in Roswiser’s eyes grow stronger, even mixed with joy.
“I… I like…”
The last word was supposed to be ‘you’.
But it came out so blurry, like a fleeting whisper.
Roswiser understood those four words.
But that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
And Leon, emboldened by the alcohol, blurted it out and then promptly ducked his head, refusing to look at Roswiser.
He just knew if he kept staring at her… he might see something he shouldn’t and say things he shouldn’t.
It was supposed to be an ordinary night; after just that one sip of wine…
How did he get himself tangled up like this?
He felt a twinge of regret.
Regretting that, in such an unprepared moment, he had said something he found very important;
Frustrated that he hadn’t said it clearly.
Yes, Leon understood.
When he spoke that last word, he chickened out; he didn’t have the guts to say it boldly.
Just like in school when the teacher called on you to answer a question, and you were busy daydreaming about how to make the girl you liked laugh after class.
You panicked, glancing at the teacher, then at the girl in the front row, and your nerves shot through the roof.
The teacher’s question wasn’t hard; you could have aced it, thanks to that clever, cute girl who had helped you with such problems before.
What a delightful break; ten minutes you’d never forget.
In those ten minutes, you caught a whiff of her hair and got the answer to that question.
You promised the girl you’d never forget that question, and whenever you faced it again, you’d nail it.
She didn’t say much, just smiled beautifully at you.
But now, that string of answers on your lips felt like a deflated symphony—getting worse as it went on and losing all clarity.
In the end, the awful response resulted in the teacher making you stand in the corner.
Also, the girl’s disappointed look when she turned away.
How do you atone for that?
No way to fix it.
After class, how could you have the gall to go to the girl and tell the joke you’d practiced for two sessions?
And Leon’s few words were easier than any exam answer could be.
Yet, he still flunked.
Slaying dragons, raising a daughter, investigating leads, exposing a dictator’s plot… those things he was great at didn’t help him one bit right now.
All Leon had left to hold onto was the hope that tomorrow, Roswiser would probably forget about this little episode.
Or pretend to forget.
“Nothing to remember at all.”
“All just drunken nonsense.”
That unfinished ‘I like you,’ the last word didn’t even matter, did it?
“Leon.”
Snapping back to reality, a familiar enchanting scent floated up to him.
Weight settled on his thigh.
It was Roswiser.
She was sitting on his lap, one arm draped around his neck, the other holding a wine glass.
She took a sip in front of him but didn’t finish it; instead, she brought the glass to his lips.
The rim of the glass faced Leon, perfectly clear;
And on the side opposite, there lay a faint lipstick mark from Roswiser.
He licked his lips, gently grasped her hand, and slowly turned the glass half a turn.
Aligning the lip-printed edge with his mouth.
Then he leaned in and downed the remaining red wine in one go.
The aroma of the wine mixed with her lip gloss sent him soaring.
Roswiser set the glass aside, then wrapped both arms around Leon’s neck.
She leaned in, gently rubbing his skin with her delicate nose.
His warm breath brushed against her face.
He was so nervous, his heart racing.
Roswiser played with Leon’s hot earlobe with her thumb, their foreheads touching, and whispered,
“What you just said… I didn’t hear clearly. Now that we’re this close, say it again.”
That girl just gave you another chance to make her smile.
Leon lifted his eyes, transfixed by those warm, soft lips.
“Melkway, I like you.”
Starry nights and cicadas singing, with red wine as their companion.
Who wouldn’t want to seize the chance, with a bit of booze, to spill their hidden feelings?
