Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 67: Beneath the City’s Gaze

Beneath the City’s Gaze

Morning sunlight poured over the sweeping courtyard of Leon’s mansion, spreading golden strands of light over buffed stone and sparkled softly off the pruned bushes, flora, and marble columns. The former stately silence of the aristocratic mansion awakened with soft footsteps and soft speech. The big doors creaked open slowly, and from within emerged Leon, Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra.

They no longer wore their traditional noble, elegant attire. Rather, they wore simple, humble clothes—clothing similar to that worn by merchants and commoners. These garments were carefully selected in order to make them blend into the crowd of busy markets.

Leon headed the group. His typical black noble robe with golden trim had been substituted with a simple black linen robe, humble in design but well-sewn—an illusion of humility that still exuded elegance. His long, jet-black hair, usually left loose flowing behind him in full nobility, was loosely bound at the back of his neck.

Aria came next. Her deep purple velvet gown, typically layered and silver-threaded, was now a plain purple cotton robe, but possessed an understated beauty. Cynthia’s soft white robe was plain but immaculately clean—Kyra and Syra wore plain green and yellow-hued robes, perfect for going incognito.

And yet, if anyone looked closely, they would see the fine stitching— the threadwork of their garments was too intricate and fine to be on a commoner’s dress. At a distance, their garments looked plain, but close up, the quality of the material and stitching was discernible. Their garments were meant for blending in, but it subtly indicated their noble lineage.

Earlier that day, it was Aria who had proposed the change of attire. when Leon proposed going to the market together, she cocked her head knowingly and said, "We should go incognito. As merchants or commoners."

Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra looked at each other in confusion.

Why?" Syra asked, perplexed

Aria smiled softly and went on. "Each time Leon and I venture out—whether for formal business or simply to explore the city—people swarm around him. He never truly gets to enjoy anything. Whispers, staring, tailing... it wears me out."

The three women caught at once. Leon himself nodded. He remembered memories—those passed down from the original Leon—of markets spent with heads turned, whispers surrounding him like bees It was never a matter of peace or experience, but only spectacle.

So, thus did they all consent—simpler apparel, covert identity, and a modicum of liberty.

Now, under the sunlight of the courtyard, Aria released a soft breath, attracting everybody’s attention.

Leon turned to her with an uplifted brow, a trace of curiosity in his tone. "What is it?"

Aria provided him with a teasing smile, her eyes gleaming with playfulness. "You changed clothes, of course. But what am I supposed to do about your face, darling?"

Leon laughed, clearly entertained. "You’re saying I still don’t look bad enough?"

Leon laughed, his voice warm and unself-conscious, his eyes glinting with mirth. Taking another step closer, his face splitting into a playfully teasing smirk, he stated, "You’re saying I still don’t look ugly enough to blend in as a commoner?

Aria rolled her eyes, though her smile only grew. "Exactly. One look at you, and every female in the market—young, old, married or not—will be lose consciousness after seeing you."

He chuckled again, then glanced at the others. "Then what about all of you?" he said, his eyes drifting from Aria to Cynthia, then to Kyra and Syra. "You all still look beautiful. Honestly, it’s hopeless—we’ll be spotted in seconds."

He gave a gentle, appreciative shake of his head and continued with a gentle smile, "Actually, the four of you are just as beautiful. Four shining stars like you, attempting to conceal yourselves during the day? Impossible."

The warmth in his tone caused their hearts to skip a beat, and though they wore plain clothing, each of them felt noticed—loved.

There was a faint flush to their cheeks. Cynthia looked away, her voice gentle and genuine. "Even in everyday clothes, my lord... you remain handsome."

Kyra simply nodded shyly, her eyes dropped but smile lightly evident. Syra, being as bold and sunny as she was, grinned widely. "You’re the prettiest ’commoner’ I’ve ever laid eyes on, my lord! If we’re attempting to blend in, we’re sunk."

Leon grinned, his eyes truly touched by their sentiments, though a glimmer of shyness was evident. "Then we’ll just have to hope the crowd’s too distracted to really look."

Aria smiled wryly and shook her head. "It’s no good. With you dressed like that—and us following behind—it’s just hopeless.

Leon chuckled, the voice warm and full of life. "Well," he said, throwing up his hands in feigned surrender, "when you’re this good-looking and around such beautiful beauties. Then, what do we do?"

Laughter bubbled up from the group—light, genuine, and full of warmth. For a moment, the seriousness of titles and responsibilities dissolved.

Leon smiled and clapped his hands gently. "Okay, ladies. Let’s go to the market. We started early, so we have lots of time to have fun."

The girls nodded, their excitement subtly radiating through their serene faces. They all started walking towards the exit of the estate together.

As they walked out into the soft light beyond the courtyard, the atmosphere softened a little. Just beyond the open gate were a small cluster of guards in silver armor, standing with silent discipline. They didn’t move, didn’t speak—just stood at attention, a line of living watchfulness and allegiance.

Leon’s pace slowed a little as he saw them, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Leon looked at Aria, his brow creased, confusion dancing in his eyes as he regarded the row of quiet guards. His eyes asked the question he didn’t ask, and Aria picked it up immediately. She returned his look with a small, knowing nod.

"For safety," she replied quietly, answering the unspoken question before he could ask it.

Leon turned to her, his confusion deepening slightly. "You know we’re going incognito," he said, his tone quiet but questioning.

"I know," Aria replied softly, a faint smile touching her lips. "That’s why—"

Before she could finish her sentence before, a man stepped forward from the line of guards—a tall figure clads in strong silver-plated armor. His posture was strict, presence commanding.

Leon’s eyes focused. Recognition flickered.

The man kneeled a little, bowing. "My lord."

Leon’s inherited memories emerged as he gazed at the man kneeling before him. This was Black, captain of the estate guards—a man of duty and loyalty, a member of a family that had served the House of Moonwalker for generations. The old Leon had trusted Black deeply; they had shared countless moments of leadership and loyalty in many battles and some wars.

Black, still on his knees in front of Leon, spoke in a calm, respectful yet firm tone. "We know you’re off to the market incognito, Lord," he said, his eyes for a moment glancing towards the women standing behind Leon, his determination impeccable. "But for your safety—and for the safety of the ladies—we ask to follow, in your shadow. Lady Aria has already commanded us. We will remain hidden, and we won’t interrupt your time or get in the way of your business unless it is absolutely necessary."

Leon’s thoughts flickered as he absorbed the situation. He knew it was true. Sometimes the cost of nobility had shadows that were unavoidable—shadows that could not be shrugged off, no matter one’s desire for anonymity.

He let out a soft sigh, bearing the weight of it. "Very well," Leon said, his tone resigned but not ungracious. "Follow—but in the shadows, right?"

Black stood up with honed accuracy, one hand on his chest in a bow of deference. "As you command, lord," he intoned, a calm assurance of loyalty and watchfulness.

There was no need to remind him. Black knew his place.

Leon offered a curt nod, indicating that they were off. He turned and strode towards the carriage waiting by the gates of the estate. The carriage itself was plain— humble, wooden, and spotless. There was nothing flashy about it, just a plain, rugged vehicle that any merchant could employ. It was ideal for their needs.

Leon climbed on first, ascending with elegant ease. Aria came next, her presence unruffled and serene. Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra stepped in succession, each one climbing into the carriage with an expression of still expectation. Moments after, Black and some of the guards got up onto horseback and enveloped themselves in black robes. Even their shiny armor was concealed behind the folds of fabric so they could disappear into the shadows as planned.

The brief ride to the market area took hardly ten minutes. The carriage slowed and turned into a peaceful alleyway, well away from the frenzy of the market. It stopped with a gentle creak, and the door opened. Leon descended first, his eyes scanning the narrow alley, his hand on the sword at his side. High walls stood on either side, and deep shadows cast by them gave privacy and protection.

Behind him, Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra walked, emerging one by one in quiet elegance. The air was motionless, nearly serene, as they moved onto the cobblestone street.

Black also dismounted nearby, his guards doing the same. Each wore black robes, their armor concealed beneath the garments. They moved into the shadows, becoming one with the subdued life of the quiet alley.

Leon nodded in agreement; his thoughts already on what they would do next. It was the ideal time to slide unseen into the marketplace. "Let’s go," he stated, moving ahead.

As Leon made his initial step forward, Aria’s gentle voice reached out to him,"Wait, darling."

Leon halted, turning towards her with a puzzled expression. "Yes?"

Aria smiled; her brow furrowed in a playful yet contemplative manner. "In order to discover the ideal gift, we need someone who understands the market thoroughly. A guide, essentially? Don’t you think?"

Leon furrowed his brow momentarily, weighing his words. It was a reasonable idea—someone local who would be able to lead them through the market’s turns and curves, someone who would be able to assist them in blending in and locating what they were seeking. Following a momentary silence, he addressed her again, a smile dancing in his tone. "You’re right, but." He gazed into her face, and with an understanding smile, he continued, "You’ve already arranged for one, haven’t you?"

Aria smiled wider, her confidence evident in her nod. "Of course."

Leon couldn’t help but laugh, a mix of admiration and affection in his eyes. "Always ahead of her game," he whispered to himself rather than to her.

He inquired in wondering tone, "Who—?"

Before she could respond, there were footsteps.

From the mouth of the alley, a lean, tall man stepped in, wrapped in a coarse brown robe. His body was wiry, his face etched with sunken cheekbones and intelligent, calculating eyes. His black hair was short and unkempt, and although his attire was simple, he walked with quiet confidence—each step measured.

And behind the man, another came—a girl, no more than 17 or 18 years old, with long black hair that fell to her shoulders and warm brown eyes. She wore a brown robe like his, simple and soft. But her beauty could not be concealed. Her face was finely shaped, soft cheeks with a gentle glow, full lips, and bright, inquisitive eyes. Her body, well-covered though it was, connoted youth’s grace—rounded in every place it was supposed to be, flawless, smooth-breasted, narrow-waisted, softly rounded hips, and the shy, vigilant posture.

Leon narrowed his eyes, acknowledging the voice—and the face which came after it. It was Ronan, proprietor of The Moon’s Shadow tavern and one of his best, secret-spying eyes in the city. As with Black, Ronan was a dutiful underling, a student of subtle observation and street wisdom. He knew the capital’s every corner, every rumor in its backstreets. Emerging from the shadows with quiet assurance, Ronan bowed slightly and spoke in a low, crisp voice, "Greetings, Your Grace."