That morning, Max slept better than he had in his entire life. Rosalia did not move at all for the next ten hours. Even if her arms had gone numb and her back felt sore from holding him in the same position for so long, she did not want to disturb him out of fear that he would wake up.

Something inside her told her that no matter their differences and their fights, he was still the one for her. If he stayed healthy and could chase after his dreams, then she and their future child could live great lives, unbothered by the world that sought to challenge them every day.

Max’s eyes slowly stirred open. The soft cushion under his head smelled way too good, sweet and floral, to the point where his eyes were ready to close again and sleep for the rest of the day. But then he finally understood what was happening, snapping his head back before Rosalia caught it once more, gently pulling him back down and guiding his head to rest on her breasts again.

"Awake?" she purred softly.

Faint dark circles sat beneath her eyes, almost as if she had taken his exhaustion onto herself, but her lips still carried a small, tired smile.

"Mhm... thanks." Max did not know what else to say. It felt too awkward between them. Ever since he slept with Agnia, she had been cold, so what had changed? He could not understand.

As if feeling his thoughts, Rosalia sighed gently, her hand reaching for his and squeezing it tightly, as if she was afraid to let go of him. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles in slow circles, warm and careful, making the silence between them feel a little less sharp.

"Have you decided what you’re going to do with her?" she asked gently, but Max could feel Rosalia’s hand trembling.

"What do you think I should do?" He did not know himself. Agnia held a very strange place in his life. He hated her to the bone, but he had also claimed her, and now he had to wait and see if she would get pregnant or not. If she did, not only would he have to take responsibility for it, he would also have to protect the Fire Dragons for the rest of his life, forcing him to raise their position in his kingdom.

"You know what I think of her... She hasn’t been the kindest person, and not to mention, she has a weird character." Rosalia fumed, her cheeks puffing slightly in annoyance. "But..." Her voice softened. "You have already claimed her as your woman. Are you going to just let go of her like that? That’s not very manly, my dear husband."

She caressed his hair, her fingers moving softly through the strands, and Max could feel the warmth of her body relaxing around him little by little.

"You wouldn’t be mad if I officially took her as mine?" Max turned his head, his eyes meeting hers, creating a small spark between them.

"I would."

Max almost choked on that reply. "Then why would you even suggest it?"

It drew a laugh from her, soft and tired, but real.

"Because I can’t be selfish and expect you to only be with me forever. I know your power now, and I think you know what you should do with it when it comes to all of the dragon clans. After all, a great emperor needs more than one woman helping him build a legacy."

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

"Nooope." Rosalia dragged out the word, her smile turning playful. "Maybe in your next life, my king."

She laughed, her fingers dancing across his skin, playing with his chest over his clothes. Max could feel something different about her today. She was still hurt, still not fully forgiving him, but her warmth was no longer hiding behind ice.

"But... if you, my dear beloved husband, give me a good time..." Rosalia purred, leaning closer until her lips almost brushed his ear. Her fingers slid slowly down his chest, stopping just low enough to make his breath catch. "I might consider it."

Max’s blood heated up as if a flame had been lit beneath it.

He turned his head just enough to look up at her. Those tired eyes, the faint smile tugging at her lips hit him harder than any fight ever had. He pushed up slowly from where he was leaning, the chairs scraping softly as he twisted to face her better. Their knees bumped. Neither of them moved them apart.

Rosalia didn’t wait for him to overthink it. She leaned in first, slow enough that he could feel every inch of space disappearing between them. Her nose brushed his before her lips followed. She traced his mouth softly, barely touching him at first, as if the smallest press was enough to wake everything they had been trying to bury.

Just a press.

Just one breath between them and the temptation they had both suppressed for far too long...

She lingered like that, letting the kiss settle, her mouth moving against his in the smallest, sweetest way. She did not rush, allowing herself to taste him slowly.

Max let out a shaky breath against her and kissed her back the same way. His hand found her waist, thumb rubbing small circles over the fabric while their lips slid together again, deeper this time but still unhurried.

Her tongue brushed his lower lip, as if asking for permission, and when he opened for her, she slipped in easily with lazy strokes that made heat pool low in his stomach. She tasted like the tea she’d sipped earlier in the morning, the taste still lingering even after hours had passed, sweet and a little floral.

She hummed softly into his mouth, the sound vibrating between them. One of her hands stayed tangled in his hair, tugging lightly to keep him close while the other rested on his chest, right over his heart. The kiss stretched on like that until they broke apart just enough to breathe, foreheads touching, her large breasts still pressed softly against him from how close they sat.

"Do you still love me?" she whispered shakily, lips brushing his as she spoke.

Max didn’t answer with words. He just kissed her again, slower this time, like they had all the calm in the world.