Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 72: A Gift for Every Heart

A Gift for Every Heart

Then Leon glanced around once more—at the women who stood by him. Aria. Cynthia. Kyra. Syra. And, standing a little aside from them, Chloe. His eyes traveled slowly over their faces. Something kindled in his eyes—an idea, gentle but swift, like a spark flaring in the stillness of his mind.

He turned to Torven, his smile almost impossible to read, but unmistakably captivating.

"Mr. Torven," he stated, voice steady and smooth as silk. "I was hoping you could help me... with one additional thing."

Torven blinked in reaction to the shift in tone. "Y-Yes, sir," he replied, straightening involuntarily. "What is it you need?"

Leon’s eyes shifted back to the women, and his tone became laced with playfulness. "You notice the lovelies surrounding me?"

Torven glanced around the room. Aria, graceful and regal. Cynthia, calm and composed. Kyra, reserved and elegant. Syra, cheerful and warm. And Chloe, modest and quiet. He bowed respectfully. "Yes, sir. Very much so."

Leon smiled and started to say— "They are my—" but cut himself off. His voice stammered. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes as he gazed at them all. His connection with most of the women was still fresh—except with Aria. So, he cleared his throat and revised his statement. "They are my near and dears. Therefore, I would like to gift each one of them a gift. Something... that befits their beauty."

There was a stunned silence that followed.

Aria’s eyes grew wide, and she half-stepped forward. "Darling... I don’t need a gift. Your presence suffices."

Cynthia repeated softly, "Yes, Lord. I am content just to serve at your side. That is all I wish for."

Kyra nodded. "We follow you not for reward or gift, but because we wish to follow you.

Syra, always the candid one, smiled bashfully. "I-I don’t want a gift either... b-but if you buy me street food like you said you would, then that’s fine by me." She laughed cutely, her voice punctuated with innocence and love.

Every one of the women’s answers were unique, but the same emotion bound them all together—love.

And still, Chloe said nothing.

She stood a step behind the others, her hands gently clasped before her, heart quietly aching. He said he wanted to give each of them a gift. but surely, that doesn’t include me, she thought, the words pressing down like weight on her chest. I’m not a noble, not a warrior. Not radiant and beautiful like woman around him. I’m just the daughter of a subordinate. A commoner.

Her eyes fell to the ground, lashes concealing the soft flutter in her gaze. Why should a Duke look at someone such as me?

Bitterness struggled to establish itself, but another thought battled through. Even assuming I’m worth more... it’s idiotic. He’s already shown me compassion nobles never would. That is more than I ever dared to hope.

She had witnessed other nobles and their treatment of commoners—condescending, cold, as if dust beneath their heels.

But him?

He regarded me with respect. As a human being.

And for her... that was sufficient.

Leon heard their sincere refusals—Aria’s gentle protest, Cynthia’s silent loyalty, Kyra’s firm devotion, and Syra’s innocent honesty—with a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips. Their sincerity touched him... but only briefly.

Then he let out a harsh breath and waved a hand.

"Just shut up, okay?" he said abruptly.

The words hovered on the air like a ripple in smooth water.

His voice wasn’t mean, though—teasing, playfully so, and yet firm with affection. "It’s my present. If any of you do not accept it, I shall be very sad." He even pouted, grotesquely lowering his brows and puffing out his cheeks, as if he were the wronged one.

Aria blinked, then laughed—truly and gently, her eyes aglow with love. Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra all looked at one another and smiled. He had turned the mood on its head with no effort at all, as though grief had never ventured into the room.

How is he doing this? Cynthia asked herself. Persuading us so easily... always putting us first before himself. And we don’t even know him long enough...

Leon smiled contentedly as he noticed their softened faces. Initially, he had been here to purchase something grand—something befitting a queen or a princess.

But then, having noticed the lovely necklaces, he understood... he had never really given any present to the women around him.

Aria—his little cute wifey, here. And Rias—his little seductress, who was waiting in the capital. Both were his wives in all aspects.

And Cynthia, Kyra, Syra— who had marched behind him through fire and destiny, were bound to tread the same path as Aria and Rias. They, too, would one day be his wives. They were already his family in his heart.

Then why not purchase something for them, too?

Poor thing. standing so still, not wanting to call attention to herself. So humble. So kind. She had worked today as a guide, yes—but she was better than that.

His heart constricted. As a gentleman, as a flirt, he couldn’t make her feel like she was being left behind.

And anyway, another gift wouldn’t harm his purse—but it might do enough to light her heart. That, he thought, was worth more than any consideration.

He looked back at Torven once more, who stood quietly observing the scene—his respect increasing moment by moment. Love in Galvia was not always bound by station or birth. Not for all the nobles, at least, but among commoners and merchant classes, love was holy. It was the lifeblood of many ancient myths and night stories—where even kings fell for seamstresses, and soldiers wept for flower girls.

Lost in the daydream, Torven blinked as Leon’s eyes met his once more. He came back to himself, a newfound respect in his gaze.

"Mr. Torven," Leon stated, voice even and smooth.

"Y-Yes, sir?" Torven replied hastily, his tone now more respectful, with a slight, genuine smile.

"I was wondering if you have something... something appropriate for these women. Each one unique."

Torven grinned. "Yes, sir! As a matter of fact, just the other day we received a very special collection—a series of hairpieces. If you would permit me.?"

Leon nodded once, his curiosity piqued.

Torven clapped his hands twice, and two guards in armor entered the room. He nodded briefly to them. "Bring in the collection from yesterday," he said. The guards bowed together and exited without a word.

The room was plunged into a silent anticipation. A few moments later, the guards reappeared, coming out of a side corridor. One of them held a velvet-covered box, while the other two pushed a polished wooden table. They set it down softly in front of Torven, who moved towards the box with respect. He opened it slowly, showing its contents.

Leon and the women hunched forward as one; their eyes open in awe. In the box lined with velvet were nine magnificent hairpieces, each different in color and pattern but all with a shared beauty. They seemed like siblings, all born out of the same masterstroke of artistry.

Leon’s eyes grew sharper, a subdued admiration smoldering in his heart. Even the best Earth craftsmanship couldn’t match this. His mind wandered for an instant, recalling dozens of luxury commercials, but none had ever left him this amazed.

"Elaire and Erona Vallet," Torven explained proudly, "are the same twin sisters’ artisanal works who created this collection too from the Vellore Kingdom.

Leon smiled gently as he gazed at the hairpiece; his eyes full of gentle wonder... as he continued to study the collection. Each piece testified to a meticulous, gentle hand—wrought with an artistry that left him breathless.

He nodded in appreciation and then, with careful hands, Leon grasped the first piece—a lavender-purple hairpiece, an orchid-shaped flower of delicate beauty, with a moonstone resting at its center. The work was stunning, exuding elegance and an otherworldly sheen, as if it contained a secret enchantment within its petals.

He made his way towards Aria, who stood with a serene smile, her eyes gentle and brimming with warmth. When he put the hairpiece into her purple locks gently, it rested into place just right, like it was specially created for her—an easy fit to her looks.

Leon, with a wave of his fingers, created a small mirror with a drop of water and a hint of mana. He held it up to look at her, grinning playfully. "How’s it looks, honey?"

Aria’s fingers shook with a small tremble as she stroked the fragile orchid in her hair, her eyes on the verge of welling over with tears. Her smile, however, was one of unadulterated joy and soft amazement. "It’s beautiful," she breathed, her voice strained with emotion. "I will always treasure it."

Her smile, soft and loving, said more than any words ever could. It was a moment in time—uncomplicated, yet unforgettable.

Leon smiled gently and nodded, his eyes holding Aria’s for a moment before he picked up a deep blue hairpiece in the shape of a curling wave, its sapphire stones glinting softly. He walked over to Cynthia, setting it in her raven-black hair with a gentle touch. A shiver ran through her—his was the first touch from a man, piercing her calm façade.

Her heart pounded. Why is this so different? she thought. It was discomfiting, but reassuring.

When she beheld herself in the water mirror Leon summoned, she was briefly shocked, Cynthia gasped. Is this me really? The hairpiece fit her hair perfectly—but it also evoked a vulnerable, unaccustomed emotion in her heart.

She caught Leon’s eye, whispering, "T-Thank you." Her heart glowed with his concern.

Leon smiled at Cynthia, nodding in appreciation, before moving on to the next piece. He took up next, the emerald green hairpiece, the shape of intertwining leaves, its sheen like life itself. He went to Kyra, gently setting the piece in her rich green hair.

Kyra’s normally stoic face relaxed, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. I never thought something like this for me, she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

When she caught a glimpse of herself in the water mirror Leon called forth, she was taken aback for an instant. The perfection of the work against her hair took her breath away. She breathed in softly, her voice shaking faintly. "It’s. beautiful," she whispered, glancing up at him with true appreciation. "Thank you, Lord Leon.

Then Leon took up the golden hairpiece, a sunburst with small amber crystals that appeared to radiate with warmth. It was ideal for Syra’s cheerful and sunny nature.

As he carefully put the piece in her hair, Syra’s excitement spilled over. She enveloped him in her arms in an instant, her face radiating happiness. "Thank you, Lord!" she exclaimed, her voice full of thankfulness, nuzzling him lovingly.

Leon was taken aback for a moment, but he laughed, patting her head gently. Her lively personality was contagious, and a smile came to his face automatically.

Kyra suddenly cleared her throat hard, eyes wide with alarm. ’Syra! What are you doing with the Lord?

Syra laughed playfully; her eyes glinting. "What? I just said thank you! Don’t act like you wouldn’t want to squeeze him and thank him like this too!"

Kyra’s face went red. She stuttered, "W-What are you saying?

Syra smiled brightly, tilting her head. "I’m your twin, Kyra. Our natures and thoughts are almost the same, so don’t act like you’re not thinking it too!"

Kyra was rendered speechless, her blush deepening.

Leon threw up his hands, smiling to himself. He knew their light-hearted teasing would get out of control, and with other people present. "Enough, both of you," he said, his smile not leaving his face. "No fighting here. And Kyra." He got closer to her, his voice lowering to a whisper. ".if Syra’s telling the truth, I’ll hug you later."

Kyra’s breathing caught at his words.

Syra, Aria, and Cynthia couldn’t help but laugh at Kyra’s embarrassed response, their titters light and mocking. Kyra’s color grew brighter, her poise further eroded under their teasing glances.

At last, he turned away from the box again.

A silver hairpiece, crescent-shaped with minute crystal dew drops, shone in the light. He picked it up and approached Chloe slowly.

Chloe blinked, perplexed. Her heart raced. W-Why is he approaching me? No... he cannot be...

But when he stood in front of her, the silver hairpiece held gently with a tender smile, her eyes went wide in shock. But when as he was about to set it into her hair, she retreated, her voice shaking. "L-Lord, wait. Why... why are you bestowing this on me?"

Leon blinked, surprised by her outburst. "What are you talking about?" he asked, really confused.

The other women exchanged glances, their faces a combination of surprise and confusion.

Chloe curtsied slightly, her eyes cast downward. "Lord, I... I’m just your subordinate’s daughter. I’m not like them..." She looked at Aria and the others. "It doesn’t feel... right for you to offer me something like what you offer them, something you’d offer to them. I don’t want to give offense to them in any way, or you. Don’t, please, Lord," Her voice shook with trepidation, and her heart hurt as she spoke, feeling she did not deserve the attention due to those so much higher than her.

The others let out soft sighs, comprehending her response. They understood why Chloe felt this way. The society they lived in was one of this sort; commoners were treated as less than dirt under a noble’s feet. To be given something of such worth, something like what a noble would bestow upon his wife, was seen as a challenge to the norms. It was taken very seriously, something that could even trigger the wrath of other nobles.

But Leon wasn’t like them. He wasn’t like other nobles. She just doesn’t know him yet, Aria thought, her heart hurting for the girl who hadn’t yet understood the extent of Leon’s niceness.

Leon’s eyes narrowed at Chloe, his jaw gawping at what he was hearing, before he released a hearty laugh. "That’s bullshit."

Her eyes flashed up at his, confusion and astonishment crossing her face.

""I’m giving you a gift because I want to. Not because of anything else." He spoke softly, his voice soothing. "And for your thinking that taking something similar to what I’ve given them would offend them..."

He faced the women, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Ladies, would you object if Chloe is given a gift like yours?"

The four women all nodded their heads with soft smiles, their faces warm and empathetic.

"See?" Leon replied softly and reassuringly. "They’re not upset, and neither should you be. Please... don’t refuse my gift."

Chloe remained motionless, the surprise of his words sinking in. Why was he being so kind, so generous, when she was merely the daughter of a subordinates? The way the other women smiled at her made her feel as if she was a part of something special, yet it felt so unreal. She had never expected a noble—let alone a Duke—to treat her this way.

Leon moved forward; his fingers soft as he put the silver hairpiece into her dark hair. His hands did not shake, his eyes intent on her with a force that made her heart pound. Calling up a mirror, he murmured softly, "Look."

Chloe gasped as she looked at her reflection, the silver hairpiece against her black hair shone like moonlight on a still night Her heart hurt—torn between wonder and disbelief. If the Silver City girls had any idea she’d met the very Duke that they all fantasized about—much less received a gift straight from his hands—they’d be green with jealousy. They’d even attempt to steal the hairpin from her, desperate to possess a fragment of what she now wore on her head. The mere possibility made her face flush with a hot, humiliated glow.

"Th-Thank you..." she murmured softly, her voice little more than a whisper, her heart still pounding from the generous gesture.

Leon smiled warmly. "Don’t thank me. If anyone should be thanking someone, it’s me—for all of you helping me find the ideal gifts. You’ve helped me find perfect shop and this visit gave me just what I needed. And that, to me, is the real blessing."

Chloe stared at him, speechless. Before, I thought he was a prince... but now, he feels like something divine—generous, yet unreachable, yet kind enough to touch even the smallest of hearts. And all she wants is just a little piece of them.

Her mind reeled, overwhelmed by his warmth and the generosity he showed her, a lowly commoner. She couldn’t quite comprehend it, but in some way, it seemed an honor beyond description.