Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 86: The Duke’s Journey to the Capital [Part-2]

The Duke’s Journey to the Capital [Part-2]

Black wheeled smoothly, executing a subtle hand movement toward the cluster of guards standing at attention.

One guard emerged from the ranks—a youth with piercing, firm eyes and an upright, confident stride. His bearing had a quiet strength, as if he were prepared for anything that was to come.

"Lord Leon," replied Black, "this is Vice Captain Johny. I’ve appointed him to be in charge of the guard of the estate and the security of the Moonwalker domain when we leave, heading to the capital."

Leon’s gaze settled on Johny, a flash of awareness crossing his countenance before he nodded approvingly.

Leon did recognize him—one of Black’s students. The boy had matured into a dependable officer, now serving as Vice-Captain, one rank lower than Black. If Black trusted him, that was good enough.

Leon nodded curtly, his voice steady and unshakeable. "Then I entrust the safety of my dukedom to you."

Without hesitation, Johny went down on one knee and bowed low. "It will be safeguarded with my life, my Lord. I promise it."

Leon’s eyes rested on him for a moment before he nodded back, quiet approval in his eyes.

His gaze wandered beyond the guards—to the unmoving group of maids. At their center stood Lilyn, stiff in her stance but her eyes fixed intently on him. Her fingers curled restlessly in front of her apron, betraying the composure she attempted to maintain.

Leon’s smile gentled, warmth and something akin to fond amusement gleaming in his eyes.

"Lilyn," he said, his voice soft and warm.

She jerked her head up, surprised, her breath trapped. "Y-Yes, Lord?"

There was a teasing tilt to the corner of his mouth as he finished, "Come here."

Her heart was racing wildly, her cheeks flushing with hot awareness. She swallowed, steadying herself, then nodded. Taking hesitant strides, she moved forward until she was standing right before him, shaking between terror and something unspoken.

Her eyes darted up quickly, startled, then fell hurriedly again as doubt filled her.

Leon’s eyes had a mischievous twinkle, with amusement softening his face. He raised one hand slowly, not drawing attention to himself.

Between his fingers shone a flash of golden light—and out of the air coalesced a lovely golden-yellow hairpin with the form of a blooming rose, its center worked with a transparent amber gemstone that glowed like the dawn.

A murmur ran through the adjacent maids, But Lilyn, too agitated, failed to notice.

Leon leaned forward slowly, placing the pin in her loose brown locks as he smoothed wayward strands back with gentle care.

It wasn’t until she felt his fingers warm against her hair that Lilyn jerked back, looking up in surprise.

"H-Huh?" she breathed, confusion dawning in her wide hazel-honey eyes.

Her hand went up automatically, stroking the slender pin hidden behind her hair. Her eyes flickered, disbelieving what she sensed.

Leon created a tiny mirror of water that floated between them, showing her own face back. "It suits you," he whispered, his warm smile curling his lips.

Lilyn went rigid, mouth opening slightly, a flush spreading deeply across her cheeks as her body became as stiff as a statue. Her words came out in a hesitant, quivering whisper. "B-But. Lord—"

She was interrupted before she could speak on. Leon lifted a soothing hand, his eyes already aware of what she had been about to say. "No ’but’," he said softly. "It is only a gift from me. You should take it."

He smiled once more, the golden glow of the hairpin reflecting the light in the room. "It’s one of the four I purchased yesterday at the market."

From behind, Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra all exchanged merry smiles. No one of them evidenced even the slightest jealousy—after all, they had already been given their presents beforehand. Their own hairpins shone brightly in their hair, evidence of Leon’s grace.

But Behind Lilyn, all the maids looked Lilyn over with wistful envy, their gazes darting between the radiating rosebud and their own nape-skinned heads. Their looks shifted to Leon with sulky faces, as though quietly thinking that one got something while they just had to stand there and look.

Leon observed it all. He smiled to himself silently, well aware that each maid in the house had some hidden love for him. And why should they not? A strong, good-looking man with noble blood in Galvia was a catch any woman would wish to win.

Internally, he grumbled with a smile, even if I wanted to. I could sleep with all the maids within this estate. None would complain.

The idea caused him to chuckle lowly, but he shelved it and refocused on the flustered Lilyn, who was still trying to find words.

"T-Thank—y-You, L-Lord, for the gift," she stuttered, lowering her head demurely.

Leon smiled warmly, his hand gliding gently through her hair, his touch soft and soothing.

Leon’s smile softened, the edges of his mouth creasing with quiet warmth.

"Take care of my mansion while I’m gone... and take care of yourself, too," he said softly, his eyes resting on Lilyn briefly before turning his head a little toward the others. And with a teasing sparkle in his eye, he added, "And you all—look after the house. and yourselves. And don’t forget your head maid."

Lilyn’s breath was caught in her throat. Her face reddened an even deeper color, but she was not alone in blushing—nearly all of the maids looked down, faces burning pink as they bowed as one.

"Don’t worry, we will, Lord!" They bowed as one, and ther voice filled withfilled with both pride and affection.

Leon nodded once more, a gentle smile still playing on his lips. He then went to Johny, his expression relaxing somewhat—still warm, though. He looked directly at Johny.

"Keep my territory safe," he declared, tapping his hand strongly on the shoulder of Johny and patted his shoulder strongly.

Johny straightened, looking shocked for an instant—nobody had anticipated it. In the traditions of Galvia, a noble’s hand on a soldier’s shoulder was unusual, It was more than a movement—it was an indication of a profound trust. In the upper circles of nobility, a lord to pat a soldier’s shoulder was unusual and significant. It said everything without having to say one additional word.

Johny’s eyes sparkled with unspoken resolve. He raised a clenched fist to his chest and bowed low. "Without fail, my Lord. Travel without worry."

Leon nodded once more, his face set in a look of contented faith. A glint of pride danced secretly in his eyes.

And then he turned to the four women standing serenely behind him—Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra.

"Let’s go," he said in a flat voice.

Leon walked toward the waiting carriage, his pace slow, deliberate.

Black had already crossed and moved forward, swinging open the carriage door with a sharp movement.

Not a word was spoken as Leon entered first. Aria, Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra followed one at a time, their steps elegant and calculated.

The carriage’s interior was nothing less than regal: midnight blue, plush velvet cushions covered the seats, the walls paneled in dark wood inlaid with filigree gold. Gentle charms vibrated in the air, retaining heat, absorbing jolts from the road, and dampening external sound. It was not just a carriage—it was a rolling refuge, spacious enough for five to ride, nap, or even sleep in comfort.

The door closed softly with a click.

Outside, Black mounted his steed with liquid ease. The escort guards followed, clustering into a protective diamond shape around the carriage. On a signal, the Windsteed beasts—magnificent animals with lean, muscular bodies and feathered hooves—struck forward. The carriage started to move, smooth and quiet across the cobblestone street.

As the wheels revolved for the first time, the courtyard resounded to the echo of their movement.

Each guard and each maid—Johny and Lilyn among them—bowed low in perfect synchrony.

Their voices called out in unison, strong and thunderous:

"We wish you a safe journey, Lord!"

The air shook with the strength of their voices, ringing out through the courtyard like a boastful vow.

But the carriage did not decelerate. It rolled steadily onward, led by the metronomic rattle of hooves and the unhurrying discipline of the guard formation.

Only when the gilded vehicle moved beyond the massive outer gates and was lost to sight did the bowed heads start to rise.

Lilyn did not move. Her eyes lingered on the road well after the carriage had disappeared from view, as if attempting to catch a final glimpse. Her cheeks retained a soft pink flush. Her fingers rose slowly, touching lightly the fragile hairpin that rested in her hair—caressing it gently, as if attempting to commit the shape, the texture, the feel of the hand that had left it there to memory.

This. this is Lord Leon’s first gift to me, she thought, her heart racing dementedly in her chest. I will hold this more dear than life itself.

The words lingered in her heart, unsaid, yet charged with meaning.

And then she turned, addressing the other maids who stood behind her.

"Come," she said softly, her voice firmer than she was. "We have work to do."

Without hesitation, she headed toward the mansion.

Maids glanced at each other—remnants of envy still glimmered softly in their eyes—but no ill will. For they had lived together in the estate like sisters, bearing and sharing sorrows and joys as well.

Quiet smiles and wordless understanding accompanied them inside, the light steps and the hearts that gradually settled.

Not far from the fleeing maids, Johny watched, his eyes focused on the disappearing dust behind the retreating carriage. His jaw clenched—not in concern, but in serious pride.

Then he spun around.

"Both of you," he shouted, voice slicing through the courtyard like a knife, "back to your stations. Keep alert. Our Lord placed this house in our care."

Without hesitation, every man moved. There was no talk, no hesitation—only the creak of armor and boots marching with a purpose. A silent fire smoldered in their chests.

This was their duty. This was their honor.

Johny stayed for a moment longer, looking up at the empty sky where the last sparkle of the carriage roof had disappeared beyond the trees. His fingers briefly formed a fist over his chest.

You entrusted us with your trust, Lord Leon. I promise... not a single stone will ever fall while you’re away.

And so, the estate came to rest. Life returned to movement. But in the hearts of those behind, a flame had been ignited.

The wind changed.

And far along the road, with the world before him and the responsibility of a dukedom on his shoulders, Leon’s odyssey to the capital began, not as a lad born to power, but as a man prepared to take it.

What lay at the far end of that road—glory, treason, war, or love—none could yet determine.

But the game had started.