NOVPUB
Chapter 66: Chapter 65: A Seat at the Table
A Seat at the Table
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Authors Notes: Dear Readers, Thanks so much for joining me on this adventure! Your enthusiasm, feedback, and encouragement really keep me motivated to keep bringing *Supreme Spouse System* into existence. If you’re loving the Chapters, I’d love it if you supported my book with a Powerstone, review, or even a Golden Ticket—it helps me develop as a writer and lets more readers enjoy the story. I look forward to hearing your ideas and thoughts, so please don’t hesitate to share!
With love,
Scorpio_saturn777
Creator of Supreme Spouse System
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The big double doors to Leon and Aria’s room creaked with a smoothness as the two stepped out, planning to walk to breakfast. But the moment their eyes hit what was in front of them in the hall, both of them came to a halt.
Three stunningly dressed women were standing side by side, arranged like noble flowers in bloom—Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra.
Cynthia was in the middle, wearing a white and blue lined flowing gown. Her black hair fell down her back in wet waves, and her big round black eyes gleamed with subtle elegance and a dash of curiosity. The bodice of her gown fell low enough to flirt with the tender curve of her cleavage. Her body was impossible to miss: curvy, round breasts, a tiny waist, and full thighs that spoke of strength and femininity. Her beauty was regal in quality—breathtaking yet adorably cute.
Standing on either side of her were the green-haired twins.
Kyra, the older one, had a commanding presence that combined elegance with unobtrusive strength. Her long green hair fell smoothly down her back, the color deep and rich like the green of leaves after rain. Framing her face, it enhanced the bright green of her eyes—peaceful but piercing, as though they were full of years of knowledge and contained only a flicker of warmth. Her face was elegant, with high cheekbones, a delicate jawline, and full lips that did not smile often but had a natural elegance. A delicate flush brushed her cheeks, suggesting the humanity beneath her dignified mask. Her physique was exquisitely proportioned—firm, rounded breasts, a chiseled waist, and softly curved hips that moved with purpose and elegance. She was both regal and profoundly real.
Syra, the younger, exuded a fresh, lively charm that was impossible to ignore. Her long green hair, pulled back in a high ponytail, shone with a silky sheen and tossed about with every mischievous step she took. Her face was pliant and expressive—rounded cheeks with a rosy, natural flush, a small, gently upturned nose, and full, pink lips that frequently curled into a teasing smile. Her large green eyes twinkled with a combination of curiosity and mischief, endowing her with an aura of innocence mingled with cheeky assurance. Although shorter than her sister, her body was lush and voluptuous—fleshy, luscious breasts, a tight waist, and curved hips that moved with sinuous ease. Syra’s beauty was alive, vibrant, and identifiably genuine.
Leon blinked, stunned by the transition of reality about him. Yesterday, he had seen the three women in plain black robes, their bodies mostly concealed. Now, standing before him in light and color, they were stunning—each a vision of femininity, strength, and beauty. The sight hit him harder than he anticipated, taking his breath and shaking his composure. A slow warmth curled in his chest, half awe, half something deeper—desire, reverence, disbelief.
But he wasn’t the only one who’d changed. The women, once elegant and poised, now sported dreamy, half-dazed looks. They’d found him—with eyes that tracked every angle. His black robe, edged with golden embroidery that seemed alive and glowed like living light; his fallen black hair, slicking back to reveal a sharp jawline and golden eyes that glowed with mystery and soft command. He looked as if he’d descended from myth and into real flesh.
In tacit concord, the same idea reverberated in each of their minds:
God of charm.
Aria, standing next to him, took it in too. She was briefly taken aback by the three women’s transformation—gracious, luminous, almost otherworldly in their loveliness. But her focus did not remain with them for more than a second. Her eyes wandered to Leon... and stayed.
He was not merely looking—he was lost.
A small twinge poked at her heart. She didn’t know why it annoyed her, but it did. Yet, being who she was, standing tall and raising her chin a fraction of an inch, pushed the feeling away, and with a small smile.
A gentle cough escaped her lips, shattering the tension.
"Ahem," she said, a gentle, purposeful cough shattering the tense silence like a pebble in quiet water.
"If you ladies are quite done mooning over my husband..." The voice of Aria was honey-smooth, her smile smooth and serene, her eyes glittering with concealed laughter. "But if not, do remind me. Perhaps I shall be magnanimous enough to spare you to be alone with him—so you can at long last whisper those sweet little sentiments you’ve had in your minds."
The three women tensed like terrified deer. Heat blushes coursed over their cheeks—especially Cynthia’s, her whole face burning to the ears. Aria’s eye rose in indulgent amusement.
Leon laughed, observing them in good humor. "Oh, she’s totally not joking," he said with a teasing voice but a soothing tone, playful undertone to his words as he absorbed the moment with suppressed amusement.
Kyra, the most even-tempered of the three, recovered quickly. And bent her head slightly her voice apologetic but respectful. "Forgive us for our discourtesy, Lady Aria."
Aria’s teasing smile lingered, her eyes glinting with playful possessiveness. She leaned forward, folding her arms with a knowing expression. "No need to apologize," she said, her voice light but full of bite. "He has that charm on people... especially on women."
Leon’s smile grew wider at her remark, a glint of mirth in his golden eyes.
Syra, still flushing but daring, smiled wide. "You’re right on, Miss Aria! Our lord’s charm is deadly. I could gaze at him all day."
Out of the corner of her eye, Kyra playfully swatted Syra’s forehead. "Mind your words."
"Ow!" Syra frowned, rubbing her head as tension dissolved into easy laughter.
Leon and Aria shared laughing glances at the sisterly bickering, while Cynthia stood off to one side of the byplay, a gentle smile playing on her lips, but her eyes continuously returning to Leon—involuntarily attracted to him like a magnet.
Syra, always the dramatic one, pouted dramatically. "But, sister, see—our lord is smiling. He doesn’t mind!"
With a wicked glint in her eye, she turned to Leon. "Right, Lord Leon? You didn’t mind my words, did you?"
Leon gazed down at Syra, taken aback for a moment by her allure, her eyes shining with teasing challenge. He couldn’t help but tuck away a gentle laugh as he reached out to tousle her hair. "Not at all, Syra," he replied, his tone warm and sincere.
Syra’s face glowed, her smile wide and triumphant, as she flashed a teasing glance at her sister, silently asserting her playful victory.
Leon’s throat cleared, his lips twisting into a teasing smile as he turned to the three women. "But. what are you three doing here?" His tone was a playful questioning, though his eyes sparkled with quiet curiosity.
Without a miss, the three women replied collectively, their words light but unyielding. "We waited for your presence, my lord."
Leon smiled more widely and raised an eyebrow. "Awaiting me? But why are you doing this?"
Cynthia, never the flustered one, moved forward. "It’s our responsibility, my lord. We wait until your presence that we might sit down to have our morning breakfast."
Leon blinked, surprised by the earnestness of her words. There was something intensely loyal in the way she spoke, and it hit him harder than he had expected. He hadn’t been prepared for the force of such loyalty.
"that mean have you not had breakfast yet?" he questioned, his confusion seeping into his tone.
The three women nodded their heads as one.
Leon’s brow creased. "Why didn’t you go to the dining room, then?"
They shook their heads once more, this time with a touch of mutual comprehension. Cynthia moved forward again, her voice silky and unshakeable. "How could we, Lord Leon How could we—your servants—take breakfast before you?"
Leon’s brow slightly furrowed at her statement. A thin crease of worry developed between his eyes. He began to open his mouth to respond, but hesitated, then let out a silent sigh. This isn’t merely submission... it’s devotion. Too much so. He knew it was founded on respect, but something about it didn’t feel right.
He glanced over at Aria. She returned his gaze, her forehead furrowed, obviously having his concern. His gut had been correct—this wasn’t good reverence. It was on the edge of blind devotion – and he didn’t like it.
He inhales slowly then, facing the three of them again, his expression softened—not with pity, but with quiet determination. "Okay," he said softly, "let’s go have breakfast. Together."
The women lowered their heads, then inclined their heads in elegant harmony, following Leon and Aria into step ahead—toward the dining hall.
A brief, subdued stroll through the hallways brought them to the dining hall. The large doors opened with a gentle groan, and they were enveloped in a warm breeze and the delicious aroma of freshly cooked food. The air was filled with scents of baked bread, roasting magical beast meat slathered in herbs, honey-sweet porridge, and boiled vegetables steaming in fragrant spices. The floor-length table, polished to a mirrored shine, shone in the golden morning light filtering through tall windows.
Standing by the head of the table was Lilyn, head maid.
Petite and elegant, she seemed something born out of the artist’s fantasy. Her cropped brown hair rounded her heart-shaped face, gentle and youthful, with large hazel eyes that sparkled with wit and a hint of naughtiness. Her lips were plump, naturally rosy, and her skin had a healthy, porcelain glow.
Her body, albeit petite, possessed a natural beauty—delicate curves that belied her slim frame. The traditional black-and-white maid’s uniform clung tightly to her, accentuating the thin dip of her waist and the subtle curve of her hips. The modestly dipping neckline was just enough to reveal the soft roundness of her bust, and the white apron and flounced skirt brought a sense of girl-next-door naivety.
Each inch of her presentation was balanced—professional, elegant, but unmistakably captivating.
She provided a dignified bow as soon as Leon and Aria entered. "Good morning, Lord Leon, Lady Aria," she greeted them with a soft, clear voice, her face radiant. "Breakfast is ready."
Lilyn’s eyes flashed briefly in the direction of the three new women, a glint of curiosity in her wide hazel eyes. But when her gaze came back to Leon—tall in his black-and-gold robe, golden eyes shining softly in the morning light—her breath snagged. Her heart missed a beat, and her equilibrium faltered for an instant. He looks. beautiful, she thought helplessly, her cheeks flushing.
Aria caught the flicker of emotion and smirked knowingly. Her voice danced through the room, soft and amused, yet sharp as silk thread. "One more clean hit, darling," she teased, folding her arms with a flourish and cocking one brow. "You’re on a streak."
Leon burst into hearty laughter, the sound rich and carefree. Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra joined in, their giggles bubbling like a chorus of bells.
Lilyn blinked, stunned at first—then it hit her. The realization dawned like a flare of light in the blackness. Her cheeks flushed red, and her staring eyes went impossibly wide. Her lips opened in shock, then snapped together as embarrassment burst across her face like fire.
Leon leaned in, his voice warm and playful. "You look cute, Lilyn."
The words struck like a finishing, brutal blow. Her mouth shook as she attempted to say something, her voice barely audible and seasoned with frantic alarm. "T-T-Thank you, my lord."
And the smile—his smile. Leon’s effortless, winning smile that seemed to vibrate directly through her.
Her knees almost buckled. With a soft squeak, she curtsied so rapidly it was nearly a tumble. "P-Please enjoy your breakfast—I-I just remembered something!" she stuttered, and all but ran out of the dining hall, nearly racing as her mortification pursued her down the hallway like a storm.
All five laughed uproariously.
Aria cast a look at Leon, her lips spreading in mirth. "Darling, what do you do to poor Lilyn?"
Leon raised his hands in protest. "I didn’t do anything!"
"Mm-hmm," Aria breathed with a playful sigh, moving to sit beside him to his left.
Leon sat at the head of the table and glanced to his right—to find the three women lingering, uncertain. Frowning, he said, "Why aren’t you sitting?"
Cynthia stepped forward, bowing her head. "Pardon us, my lord... but we are your servants. It would not be fitting to sit beside you."
Leon’s face grew stern, his brows furrowed. Aria blinked, obviously disturbed by their unbending humility.
A tense silence fell over the table. Something was going to have to shift.
