Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 154: Yo, Wifey’s.

Yo, Wifey’s.

"And you three?" Leon inquired, his head turning to the other maids, his voice so smooth and darkness. "No need to flee?"

Fey bristled. "L-Lord... I—" but her words stalled halfway through.

Leon cocked his head very slightly, as if expecting her to continue.

But she bit her lips together, face aflame. The words just wouldn’t emerge.

Mona moved, clearing her throat softly—but remained silent.

Lena, avoiding his gaze, turned her face and inspected the vase beside her as if it were now the most interesting item in the room.

Outside, the final strip of sunlight sank below the horizon. The enchanted street lamps of the estate flickered to light one by one, illuminating the curving gardens and slabs of stone with a golden, warm light. The wind picked up the fragrance of late-flowering flowers and the curtains moved softly, caressing Leon like a phantom of the touch.

For a moment, he shut his eyes and just breathed it in—the silent cadence of the world moving into evening. Somewhere outside the room, the soft creak of footsteps came: staff and maids hurrying along to get ready for tomorrow’s great function.

The wind picked up again, chill and whispering, playing with his hair.

Leon smiled to himself, not troubled by quiet—happy, even, with their frazzled quiet.

Evening had fallen... and yet, there was no sign of Rias or the others.

Leon leaned back, half-lidded eyes listening to the distant fading of soft footsteps. By their racing pace, he could estimate: the capital wasn’t sleeping tonight.

It was feigning sleep—while below the surface, tumult was brewing.

The whole city vibrated with urgency, last waves of preparation dashing against the shores of tomorrow’s great event. Lanterns still glowed in far windows. Carts rumbled over cobblestone streets. Voices whispered commands in darkness.

An anxious night.

Leon breathed out slowly, eyes straying to the window, where the wind pulled at the curtains like a polite warning.

Tomorrow would arrive soon.

Whether the city was prepared or not.

He sighed softly, lost in thought—until a soft creak shattered the quiet.

His eyes crept open.

Rui and Mira had come back, pushing a smooth tea trolley into the room. It shone in the gentle lamplight, piled high with fine porcelain, shimmering silver, and primly arranged refreshments.

The girls winced under his scrutiny—just a flash—but they continued on, faces flushed, lips pursed tight in quiet concentration.

They halted gently in front of him.

Rui led the way, setting out the teapot and cups with tender care.

Mira came next, laying out the plates: golden pastry still warm and flaking, sweet fruit glistening with honey, and savory puffs giving off a rich, mouthwatering scent.

The room was filled with the soft ring of porcelain and silver.

Leon said nothing—but stood watching, serene and inscrutable, as they moved in silence, the air that filled it being both comforting and charged.

The aroma reached Leon a second later—buttery, warm, and sweet. It hung suspended in the air, welcoming and soothing.

Once the final dish was set, Rui and Mira bowed together and stepped back at the same time.

"Enjoy, my lord," they chimed in unison.

Leon smiled, his eyes warm. He picked up a fork and inserted it into a glistening fruit tart, biting slowly and carefully.

"Mmm..." A gentle murmur of approval passed his lips. "Lovely. Did you both make this yourselves?"

"No, my lord!" Mira exclaimed hastily, her face shining with pride. "All of us worked together to prepare the snacks for you!"

Standing beside her, Rui nodded shyly, barely looking at his eyes.

Leon smiled, the edges of his mouth twisting upwards. "It has the flavor of love. You all did a very good job."

Both girls blushed indignantly, their position tensing under the compliment.

He picked up the teacup again, sipped slowly, and allowed the delicate mix of flowers and mint to roll on his tongue.

"Mmm..." he hummed once more. "You have really outdone yourselves today.

The compliments rendered all five maids stiff statues in embarrassment.

Fey, Mona, and Lena remained still in the background, but even they were unable to suppress the corners of their lips from curling upward at his admiration—each one attempting, and failing, to conceal their developing smiles.

Leon savored his leisurely, mannered pleasure in tea and snacks, every step calculated. From time to time, he looked up—delivering an arched eyebrow here, a gentle, playful smile there. It sufficed. One by one, they grew flush with deeper color, the serenity of their composure steadily disintegrating before his attention.

For a little while, the room glowed with warm, peaceful radiance.

Then—footsteps.

They resounded from the corridor outside the principal door. Not one pair. Multiple.

Not the solid beat of boots, but something lighter. Female. Whimsical.

A gentle cacophony of heels clicking marble, blended with laughter and soft, hushed words that drew closer with each step.

Leon’s smile grew deeper—just a shade, but perceptibly. The comfortable warmth in his smile changed into something quietly anticipatory.

He shifted his attention to the grand entrance of the mansion, and simultaneously did the five maids—each head cocked, each pair of eyes attracted by the noise.

And then—they showed up. People entering the living room at last.

A group of women swept into the living room in ideal harmony, their mere presence stealing the air from the air itself. Each glowing in her own way, but all together? They were a symphony of beauty and poise—his wives.

Long gowns billowed around them from the wind outside, gnawing their beautiful gown of velvet, silk, and embroidered satin. Their hair—purple to flowing, black as coal, deep crimson red to green—caught the light, and their eyes match to their eyes, full of love and mischief, swept the room—

—until they spotted him.

Leon. Their husband.

Reclining on the plush couch like a portrait come to life, one hand on the back, the other cradling a dainty teacup between refined fingers. His open collar of his white shirt showcased the ridges of his collarbone and a sliver of his upper chest. His dark pants suited him well across his extended legs as he relaxed back in the manner of a king relaxing.

He lazily raised his hand and waved at them.

"Yo, Wifey’s," he teased, with a grin. "What’s up?"

The words were offhand—infinitely offhand—but the tone in which he spoke them was dripping with charm, abiding affection, and certain unconcealed confidence. His voice, as smooth as silk, filled the space like spiced wine.

The women stood frozen for an instant... then their faces erupted into synchronized smiles.

"Darling!" they all exclaimed together, their words harmonizing like music. Some with laughing amusement, some with fondly exasperated tones, some with sheer joy.

Their eyes shone as they approached him, gown rustling on the floor, each of them drawn to close to him as a star orbits its center. Leon put down the teacup carefully, his face softening into something more genuine, more warm. He gazed into each of their faces—not merely their loveliness, but the flame, the strength, the love in their eyes—and the familiar flush rose in his chest.

As they approached the sofa, the wind rustled through the curtains once more. Behind them, the sky was a deep purple now. Wands of magic gleamed brighter now, casting everything in gold and blue.

Leon leaned forward slightly and smiled one final time—half taunting, half loving.

Home is warmer now.

The scene froze—like a perfect painting.

The maids stood aside, still and wide-eyed in silent wonder.

Their wives had clustered around, gentle smiles on their faces, bright spark in their eyes.

And at the centre of it all was Leon—innocent, serene, totally at home, as if the world danced to his beat.

Then, from among the group, Rias emerged.

She carried a smile that was pure mischief, the red hair rippling like fire with each step. Her eyes glinted as she leaned forward ever so slightly and said, with sugary playfulness,

"Daddy... I brought someone who wants to meet you."

Leon blinked once. An eyebrow shot up, slow and questioning.

The other wives around her shared knowing smiles, each one suppressing a laugh.

The light flickered warmly across their faces.

And the evening went on.