Supreme Spouse System.

The Door Opens

"Leon," a muffled voice called respectfully from beyond the door.

The silence inside the room stretched long and heavy, like glass holding back a flood.

Leon's golden eyes narrowed, the warmth of the night fading into something sharper, more awake. His hand brushed through Rias's tangled crimson hair, a soft, absent gesture of comfort, though his mind had already shifted.

And then… he smiled.

Because that voice was familiar. It was Mia's. His Mia.

The tone came through the wood not like a servant, not like an herald, but with the gentle uncertainty only she held when summoning him in the morn.

Leon's chest vibrated with soft humor. "So… even she's here."

But that look of his, serene and confident, was not for the others.

Fifteen women around him stiffened as if the floor had split under them. Wild hair cascaded across their faces, their naked shoulders reflected the dull light, and suddenly they all knew what that voice was saying.

Mia.

Not any other maid. Not a stranger. One of them. Sister. Wife. Co-heir to Leon's insanity.

And yet, in that instant, there was panic like fire.

Rias sat up suddenly, scarlet eyes tightening. Her lips parted, ready to protest. Aria's hand flew up involuntarily to her chest, holding on to the sheets, her royal dignity ruffled. Cynthia's peaceful calm was shattered into a swift, quiet inhalation, her dark eyes flashed in Leon's direction as if silently asking: What next?

Syra swore softly, scrambling over his chest in a mess of green hair. Kyra was behind her, stiff-backed but equally agitated. The maids were the worst — Fey stumbled over Rui as both grabbed for the same nightgown, Mira was pushing Mona with wild whispers, Lena almost ripped the hem of her dress in her haste.

Nova pushed hands against her hot face, glancing through her fingers at Leon as if he had committed the trespass. Lilyn breathed softly, holding the sheets up to protect herself, and Chloe sat transfixed, brown eyes bulging like saucers, too innocent to really understand why everyone was freaking out but automatically overwhelmed by their flurry.

Leon alone did not move. Naked. Unfazed.

Their fright, their wild rushes, tickled him under his breath. "All of you… ruffled, when it's only Mia."

"Only Mia?" Rias spat, red hair falling over her smooth shoulders as she ripped on her robe with desperate hands. "Do you have any idea what it appears like?"

"It appears like the truth," Leon said nonchalantly, amber eyes level.

Syra gave him a venomous glance. "And you're smiling?"

"Yeah," he replied, without pause. "Because it's her."

Aria's mouth opened, her purple eyes narrowing. "You can't just—"

But Leon raised a hand, quieting them. His tone was steady, soft, but hard enough to slice through the desperate creak of clothing.

No." He smiled weakly. "She's my wife. She knows what this life is. She belongs here as much as any one of you. And if she's the one knocking." His voice dropped, nearly tender. ".then she's already one of this."

The women stiffened, half-clad, half-swathed, looking at him like he was crazy. His golden eyes raked over them, locking into each pair with steady defiance.

Then, without getting up from the bed, still naked in sunlight, Leon addressed the door.

"My love. Come in."

A wave of shock swept through the room. His women gazed at him with hard, icy stares, without a word, shouting are you crazy? But Leon did not wince. He settled back against the headboard, legs crossed comfortably, completely naked, a king who would not bend even when faced with his own mayhem.

The silence grew thicker. Then—

Click.

The latch released.

Creaaak.

The door swung open.

A figure entered.

Black hair cascaded like a veil down her back, black eyes kind and soft, her footsteps silent but confident. She had on a plain black robe edged with gold lotus trim that glimmered lightly in the early morning. And carrying it in her hands, she pulled a cart — the slight rattle of china, the scented steam of tea and freshly baked bread following her.

Mia came in smiling.

Not the demure one she had assumed upon entering his life, but the radiant, flowering smile of a woman who was home. She propelled the trolley forward, her dainty fingers firm, her eyes first locating Leon on the bed—then, gradually, scanning the room.

The aroma greeted her first.

It was heavy in the air. The cloying scent of sweat, heat, skin — of sex. But underneath, delicate strands of flowers from the tea she carried blended in, struggling for space.

She stopped, nostrils flaring minutely as the scent washed in on her, recognition flashing at once. Her eyes came up, and her black eyes went wide.

Fifteen women.

Some holding their gowns inside out. Some caught mid-action, robes half-bundled. Others looking at her with ashen faces, caught red-handed in scrambling.

Mia didn't require words.

Her mouth opened slightly, her breath stopped. She knew. She comprehended the lot within seconds, without someone telling her.

Her eyes darted once toward Chloe and Lilyn—innocent, flushed but level. But the others? Desperate. Naked guilt etched on their faces.

Mia stood there, gripping the handle of the trolley, her black eyes shaking with horror.

And before anyone could stir, another voice drifted from the corridor.

"Mia? Why do you stand there, daughter? Let me through."

All heads turned.

The doorway was crowded by another form.

Cassidy.

Her black hair fell across one shoulder, her eyes dark as the night, her gown hugging her form. She moved within slowly, pushing past Mia delicately, her eyes lifting—

And froze.

Her own breath caught in an audible hitch.

Because there he was.

Slouching against the headboard, chest bared, completely naked under the sheets, golden eyes shining, a half-smile pulling at his lips. His body — the very same body that had gotten her gasping into the night not so many nights before — lay exposed to her once more. His manhood, still half-erection, rested heavy against his thigh, a giant promise of what it might become.

And surrounding him, fifteen women.

Fumbling with their robes, some holding the sheets, others caught in mid-transition in angles so ridiculous it would have been funny if the air wasn't so heavy.

The smell struck Cassidy then, as well. Raw. Musky. Indisputable. It swooped into her lungs, coated the back of her throat. Her lips parted in surprise, her chest heaving once before she willed it into stillness.

Her eyes grew wide, dark pools shaking with incredulity.

For one heartbeat, no one stirred.

Only Leon did.

He grinned. Serene. Shameless. As if this mayhem, this scandalous scene, was nothing out of the ordinary, the morning he had always anticipated.