Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 87: Indulgence in Carriage.

Indulgence in Carriage.

The ground stretched far across in a blue sky without end, the horizon a fluid line where the sky kissed the ground. Gentle grasses capered in the breeze in an open field that radiated in shades of green and gold. Clumps of wildflowers covered the meadow—lavender, daisies, bluebells—swaying in the breeze, whispering secrets only the wind might hear.

Tangles of saplings crackled, their leaves dancing in the wind like mischievous secrets, as stately old oaks remained unmoving, like watchful sentinels. Glimpses of amber light filtered through their limbs, illuminating the earth in soft, mottled radiance.

Here and there, tiny magical creatures wandered unencumbered—gentle-furred monsters with great ears and tiny antlers; radiant-winged rabbits that trailed starry paths; floating spheres that glowed with soft light, bobbing like nosy ghosts. Some rolled over in the grass, others slept under trees, their tranquility undisturbed.

The world was at peace.

Until that peace was shattered.

Abruptly, the ground shuddered once—subtly, almost imperceptibly. The magical creatures hesitated in place. Heads lifted. Ears pricked. Grass rippled abnormally.

Then the shudder hit again—this time with greater force. A low, distant roar rumbled across the grasslands.

On the horizon far away, something glinted in sunlight—a flash of silver, blue, steel.

And then came the noise: hooves pounding.

The sky vibrated as the complete picture emerged—one immense silver caravan thundering along the open road. At the lead, a column of silver-clad riders on great horses, lances shining, armor bright as the mirror’s face. Their training was apparent in every coordinated step.

At the heart of this magnificent procession rolled a dazzling carriage painted in glittering silver-blue—its panels inscribed with magical runes, and drawn by four regal Windsteeds, their white hides radiating faintly in the light of the sun. Their hooves touched the ground but faintly, yet each movement felt like landshaking drumbeats from the heavens.

This was no run-of-the-mill caravan.

This was the Silver City Duke.

This was Leon Moonwalker.

As the caravan rode through the peaceful glade, which was once so serene, the enchanted beasts began to scatter like the petals of flowers before the wind, their gentle harmony shivered by the noble thunder. The earth shook with the tread of honor and strength. But within the carriage, however, a different world existed altogether.

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But within the carriage itself, a universe apart existed—soft floral aromas blended with dainty magic spells that numbed the external turmoil. Velvety soft cushions, golden stitching, and soft lighting spells soaked the interior in a calm radiance, an unbroken quiet that was unscathed by the tempest raging outside.

Leon reclined at ease on a velvet cushion in the middle, back loose, eyes serene but glittering with a mirthful glint.

To his right, Syra leaned against him, her green locks glimmering and cheeks flushed. A golden-colored dress clad her, matching the color of her smile. Her fingers fidgeted with the rim of his sleeve in nervousness, her body pressed against his side, cheek against his chest as he slowly wrapped his right hand around her waist.

On his left, Kyra had on an exquisite dark-green robe, her head dropped and eyes lowered. But her rosy cheeks betrayed the turmoil within. Her heart pounded and hands shook slightly, even though Leon’s arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her tight.

Across from them, Cynthia and Aria reclined on soft velvet pillows, smirking smiles pulling at their lips as they observed Leon and the twins. Aria reclined elegantly with her legs crossed, chin on hand, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Cynthia’s teasing eye darted back and forth between the sisters, her smile twisting into a sly, flirtatious grin that promised shared secrets.

It all started when Leon suggested something bold.

As the wheels of the caravan creaked into gear beyond the gates of Silver City, Leon sat back against the plush velvet cushions, a wicked, slow smile skimming the edges of his lips.

"Ladies," he started, smooth as silk and with a thread of playful charm woven through the words, "wouldn’t this trip be so much more pleasurable if you all took turns keeping me company? Properly, of course—close... comfortable... maybe even cuddled up next to me."

His golden eyes sparkled as he delivered the last word like a dare.

Aria was the first to laugh, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Rotating like royal favorites? Darling—how delightfully wicked of you." She gave Cynthia a sly nudge. "Naturally, we’ll take the first shift. Perks of seniority, after all."

Cynthia merely smiled in agreement.

The others had agreed, the terms set: four hours per pair, no exceptions.

Now, well underway and with the Silver City spires receding from view behind them, it was at last Kyra and Syra’s turn.

The two maidens moved down beside Leon, hearts aflutter as they went to share his cozy hold for the first time. And this way both find themselves in Leon arms.

From the other side of the carriage, Aria smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You know," she teased, "this rotation business? Genius plan, sweetheart." She looked at the twins. "Just look at them—blushing like heroines in a ballad. Although, by the look of those pink cheeks, I have a pretty good idea who’s getting more out of it.

Cynthia smiled sweetly at Aria’s jesting, a gentle curve rising to her lips. She moved forward, interest glinting in her shining eyes. "Well, then—Syra, Kyra," she asked warmly, "how was it? First time all snug in our lord’s arms like that. Tell me the truth.

Syra smiled warmly, nuzzling her face into Leon’s shoulder. "It’s hot. really quite nice, and rather comforting," she said, a playful grin playing on her lips. "Honestly, I’m liking it better than I thought I would—it’s becoming addictive. I don’t know if I want to relinquish my turn."

Kyra looked away, nibbling her lip, her cheeks flush with a soft rose. Her lips parted in speaking, but nothing was said. She dropped her eyes, quiet and demure, the flush growing deeper on her face.

Leon overheard the soft murmurs of all their remarks, a faint smile curling on his lips. He saw how Kyra would look away, her cheeks flushing with a rosy blush. That vulnerable shyness kindled a teasing warmth in him.

He gradually shifted his head, raising an amused brow as his gaze locked into hers. "Kyra," he growled low and silky, "don’t you enjoy being in my arms?"

Kyra froze for a moment, her breath hitching as her mouth fell open. But the words became stuck within her throat, and all that was able to escape was a soft, fluttering whisper. "I-It’s... not like that, my lord..."

Leon’s smile grew even bigger. Leaning over softly, chin passing over the soft green tangles of her hair, the action slow and earthy. "So, then what is it like, dear?" he asked softly, voice warm and playful.

Her hands grasped the lapels of her robe as if to balance. The closeness, the voice, the silence within the carriage—it was all overwhelming. A burning flush rose over her cheeks; eyes falling shut for the briefest moment.

Then, on a shaken breath that shook lightly with feeling, she admitted, "I... I like it... in your arms."

Leon’s smile grew even deeper, a soft warmth spreading in his chest—not only from the sincerity of Kyra, but also from the unvarnished, honeyed vulnerability she presented him. In this quiet, the world seemed to contract to just the pair of them, cocooned in silence and gentle breath.

Then, a dramatic sigh sliced through the quiet—like a pebble splashed into still water.

"Aiaah! My lord," Syra exclaimed; her voice laced with mock outrage but eyes gleaming with something softer beneath. "You’re being terribly unfair!"

Leon turned toward her, only to find a full dramatic pout waiting—her lips pursed just so, her brows drawn in exaggerated protest. But in her gaze, there was a flicker of something deeper—warmth tinged with a hint of longing.

"You’re playing favorites," she accused, folding her arms as she burrowed just a little closer into the curve of his side. "Here I am, sitting obediently in your arms, and yet all your sweet words are for her?" Her tone was feigned-scolding, but her face glowed with unmistakable mischief.

Leon’s gentle laughter ruffled the air. He looked from one to the other—Kyra, all flushed and still; Syra, bold but blushing under her bluff. His smile warmed.".

He turned to Syra, voice soft but sarcastic. "You really believe I’d have the courage to choose between the two of you?"

Syra nodded; eyebrows slanted in mock suspicion.

Leon bent forward, voice falling to a taunting whisper. "But I love you both... equally... don’t I?" And then, with an innocent glint in his eye, he added, "I make sure my love is fair to all of you—because each of you holds a special place in my heart."

His words seemed to linger in the air, resonating with the two sisters as well as with the other two women who had already experienced his playfulness.

Kyra’s blush heightened, spreading like overripe tomatoes over her cheeks. She held her sleeves close, words stuck in her throat, too shy to speak.

While, Syra let out a soft gasp, torn between flattered and shocked, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of surprise and joy.

Leon picked up on the flash of feeling flashing across both sisters’ faces—the modest blush spreading on Kyra’s cheeks, the teasing glint in Syra’s eyes.

A sly smile spreading over his face, he softly cinched his arms around their waists. "Squeak!"

The twins emitted identical little squeaks of astonishment, their faces flushing hot with embarrassment and mirth, suspended somewhere between giggles and mortification.

But then—very quickly—Syra leaned forward, her eyes aglow with a combination of bravery and nervousness. Before anyone could do anything, she touched her lips to Leon’s in a brief, hesitant kiss—a soft, fumbling touch.

For a single heartbeat, the carriage was silent as stone.

All eyes shot back and forth between them.

Leon blinked in shock, his face a combination of humor and curiosity. Syra at once withdrew, cheeks aflame with bright crimson.

"I. I kissed the Lord," she breathed inside, her voice shaking, her heart pounding so hard it seemed as though everyone could hear.

Kyra’s breath trapped. "Syra! What. what just happened?" she stuttered, half stunned, half incredulous.

Syra grinned up at her sister, a shy, victorious smile playing on her lips. "I win, Kyra," she whispered. "I kissed him first." with flush heating her cheeks.

Kyra was taken aback, her mouth opening and closing as if she were a surprised bird.

A moment of silence fell over the carriage before soft laughter welled up. Aria’s brow shot up, mirth dancing in her eyes. "Well, you’re braver than I imagined, Syra."

Cynthia grinned knowingly. "I knew you had that cheekiness. but that cheeky? I did not think it of you, Syra."

Leon’s lips curled into a warm smile as he gazed at Syra—the small flame of courage still burning brightly in her eyes. His voice lowered to a gentle whisper, playful but affectionate.

"My dear Syra," he spoke softly.

Syra’s cheeks flushed deeper at the tender way he spoke her name, a blend of embarrassment and pride flickering across her face. She glanced sideways at Leon, her eyes sparkling with mischief—and something softer beneath.

"That was adorable," he continued with a warm smile, "but... if you’re asking, that wasn’t quite a kiss."

Syra blinked, surprised. "Huh?"

He released Kyra’s waist and leaned closer. "Let me show you," he whispered softly.

Placing a gentle touch on Syra’s chin, he directed her eyes to connect with his. Her breath caught in her throat as he gradually bridged the gap between them.

Their lips touched gently at first—warm, exploratory. And then, with slow, careful intent, he pressed his lips gently into hers, tracing the shape of her top lip with his tongue, a slow, seductive lap that sent a shiver down her spine. Syra reacted instinctively, opening her lips further to invite him in, her own tongue lightly tracing the curve of his lower lip.

The kiss deepened, rhythmic and intimate, each stroke teaching her how to follow, how to give and take. She shivered under his caress, lips clumsy but hungry, meeting him every step of his gradual exploration.

When they eventually broke apart, a strand of saliva held them together.

Syra’s cheeks burned a deep red as Leon leaned in close to her ear, soft smile playing on his lips.

Now that is a kiss, my love," he breathed tenderly.

She cradled her hot face against his chest with a startled squeak, her heart racing wildly.

Throughout the carriage, Aria and Cynthia shared quick looks at each other, a wry envy shining behind their eyes. Both having been kissed by Leon in the past, they well understood how seductive and addictive his kisses were—and while they yearned for his touch now, neither felt willing to say so. "After all, neither of them wanted to spoil the moment between Leon and Syra."

Kyra sat transfixed, amazed at Syra’s audacity. Her lips parted in a wordless protest, but nothing was said. A flush spread up her cheeks, darkening with each beat of her heart. She looked away, burning cheeks—not only from shame, but from a confusing combination of envy and admiration. Her sister is so bold, so certain of what she desires, Kyra thought, so close to Leon. Jealousy’s spark flared within her; she wished to be so fearless, so intimate with Leon.

She was lost in her mind, and Kyra hardly noticed until a gentle hand lay across her waist. Taken aback, she stiffened, a soft, reflexive squeak crossing her lips. It took her a moment to move before Leon’s hand slipped an inch tighter, pulling her over his lap with firm reassurance. Her breath caught, suspended between shock and a bashful excitement as his arm drew her in, holding her tight.

"L-Lord..." she whispered, her voice shaking.

Leon smiled gently, sweeping a wandering lock of hair from her face, his eyes warm and perceptive. "Tell me, dear... would you like a kiss, too?"

Kyra’s eyes went wide, the flush deepening on her cheeks. She opened her lips, heart racing wildly—speechless, but speechless no longer able to resist the desire rising within her.

"Then I’ll assume that’s a yes," Leon whispered, leaning down very slowly toward her.

The world came to a crawl; Kyra’s eyelids fluttered shut, heart racing in eager anticipation—

THUD!

The carriage lurched – halt.

The motion was slight, but abrupt.

Everyone on board blinked, snapped back to awareness.

Leon’s face narrowed. Kyra jumped hastily from his lap, all blush fading into keen attention.

Across from them, Aria and Cynthia sat up straight in a flash, their playful complacency giving way to intense concentration. Syra’s easy humor disappeared, back stiffening, lips compressing into a thin line.

Then—a knock at the door.

Rap-rap-rap.

"Lord Leon!" Firm but respectful—the voice belonged to Captain Black.

Leon’s golden eyes narrowed. He rose without a word, the movement fluid and commanding. His coat billowed out as he flung open the door. Cold wind swept in, stripping the cabin of its warmth.

He descended onto the road, boots crunching gravel.

The tranquility of the journey was at an end.

Something lay ahead