Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 207: When the Mirror Shattered

Chapter 207: When the Mirror Shattered

When the Mirror Shattered

No one knew how much time had gone by.

The courtyard was still steeped in silence—so deep, it was nearly holy. A thousand hearts beating slowly, reverently, eyes closed in trust, souls laid bare under the sky.

And then—

Crack.

It was soft. Subtle.

A sound like frost shattering across warm glass.

Brows furrowed. A few eyes twitched behind closed lids.

Crack.

Crack.

The noise came once more—quick, intentional. Not booming, but sudden enough to ripple the quiet like a ripple on calm water.

The noise did not cease. It rebounded—silent but unmistakable—as though the world itself were holding its breath.

And then—

CRACK.

An instantaneous break ripped through the air, as sharp as lightning on rock.

The silence was shattered.

So was the mirror.

The large ceremonial mirror at the center of the courtyard—once unblemished and shining under the aligned twin moons—shattered.

Lines cut across its smooth expanse like tears in the heavens. For the space of a breath, it remained.

Then—

Shatter.

Glass fell like starlight, catching the moon with each shard.

A gust of gasps filled the court, then died away, stunned and winded.

The master of ceremonies, himself taken aback for an instant, moved forward with trained composure. His voice, polished by centuries of ritual, resonated clear:

"Ladies and gentlemen of Moonspire... you may open your eyes."

Gasps rolled again, shattering the hush like waves breaking on a mirrored lake.

A breath.

Then another.

Heads came up. Eyes fluttered open. Bodies straightened, as if emerging from a holy trance.

The twin moons’ golden light poured over the courtyard, and the nobles gradually absorbed what they saw—initially confused, next enthralled.

Every gaze focused on the middle of the dais of marble.

There—where a thousand mirrors had reflected the moons—now stood one figure alone.

The mirrors were shattered, their pieces scattered like starlight on the stone. But no one gazed at shards.

They were all gazing at her.

And at its heart—

Princess Lira.

No longer bathed in borrowed moon.

But in a radiance of her own.

They gazed at her.

At her.

At Princess Lira.

Slowly, Leon’s eyes opened. Acclimating to the general luminescence, he let his gaze wander to where the princess now stood—and for a brief, tenuous moment, he forgot how to breathe. He remained still.

The moonlight that had once poured down from above had vanished—its task complete. But in its wake lay something brighter than any reflection.

She towered above the shattered mirrors.

The ritual was complete. The silver light had disappeared.

And yet—

She radiated.

Lira alone. Unperturbed. Transformed.

Her silver-white hair glimmered with a light that was not the moon’s, but hers. It streamed behind her like a silk veil, glowing from within—each strand star-kissed, floating as though pushed by some undetected stream of enchantment.

Her skin—soft and radiant—appeared kissed by the moon.

It was perfect now. Pale and radiant, aglow with an inner light, like porcelain warmed by moonfire. Her lips, once a muted rose, now flowered with a warm blush. Her cheeks held a delicate flush, as if the moon itself had bent down to whisper love.

And her eyes...

Her sky-blue eyes had darkened.

No longer broad with simple innocence, they glimmered with a royal sapphire color—darker, deeper. As if the sea, agitated beneath midnight moons, had dripped its depth onto them. The naivety of youth was gone. Replacing it: something eternal. Something royal.

A mystery just starting to unfurl.

Timeless.

Regal.

A mystery just starting to unfurl.

Her dress hadn’t altered, and yet. it did not look the same.

It stuck to her not like cloth, but like fate itself. As though moonlight rewoven all the threads with divinity. It moved when she breathed, glimmered when she shifted—not with silk, but with being.

A princess no longer waiting.

A woman, whole.

Like the first goddess ever chiseled by the sky in the dawn of time.

And she appeared—beyond seriously, impossibly—more lovely than any woman Leon had ever encountered. More lovely even than any of the wives he currently held.

Leon, schooled even in battle, had the wind knocked from his lungs.

He didn’t flinch at the broken mirrors.

He didn’t even notice them.

All he noticed... was her.

And for the first time in a very, very long time—

He forgot himself.

The pull wasn’t loud. Not violent. Just a quiet vibration inside him, like a string of soul being carefully plucked.

He didn’t know what it was.

Only that it couldn’t have happened.

Not here.

Not in this court.

Not in this life.

His golden eyes followed her new shape—not with lust, but with holy awe. Something inside him twisted. A tightness. A yearning he didn’t know.

She was glowing.

But more than that... she was something else altogether.

Across the great court, nobles started to stir. The silence cracked open into stunned murmurings.

"Truly blessed..."

"A divine transformation..."

"Did you see her eyes?"

"She looks like the moon itself... a living star..."

"She looks like a goddess..."

"Is this a sign?"

"She looks like a queen. Look at her!"

"Will she bring peace... or power?"

At the center of it all, Lira stood unmoving.

Amongst whispers and rustling satins, Lira stood. And then, slowly, her eyes rose.

She didn’t know how much she had changed, what transformation she had undergone, but she did feel it. Something in her had shifted, finished. And now, she could feel the thousand eyes on her.

Most gazed in wonder.

A few with admiration.

Some—men and women both—gazed with barely concealed hunger: desire, reverence, envy swirling like smoke in the air.

She had waited for this moment. Anticipated it.

But among all those thousands of looks... one blazed different.

Only one caused her chest to constrict before she even laid eyes on it.

She felt it—grounding her.

And then she saw it.

His eyes.

Golden. Still. Unwavering. Like molten sun trapped behind glass—keen, unflinching, boundless.

Her breathing caught.

There, on the lesser throne, sat Duke Leon.

His eyes pinned her there, like moonlight trapped in crystal. Not hunger. Not admiration. Something softer. He regarded her with an intensity that made the din of the world recede.

And when eyes met—

She saw it.

The intent behind his look. The heaviness of it.

Bloom rose on her cheeks.

Faint. Almost nothing.

But real.

A flush lifted, as evening fell, to her cheekbones.

She had once felt beautiful. Powerful, too.

But in his eyes... she felt seen.

She didn’t avert her gaze.

She couldn’t.

Her lips trembled with a smile she hadn’t intended to flash.

Her heart raced. Her chin rose.

And at that instant, she had never been more luminous.

The crowd was still entranced.

Their gazes locked, frozen in a moment unmarred by ceremony or politics.

Then—

The curse was broken. So subtly, so utterly, that no one realized the announcer had returned to the center of the courtyard—until he held up both hands and said:

The broken mirror is...

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.