Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 212: Do You Want Her, Daddy?

Chapter 212: Do You Want Her, Daddy?

Do You Want Her, Daddy?

The great doors, Darkwood and incised with twin silver moons, swung apart silently.

Inside...

The ceiling rose high above them, shrouded in folds of silk that flowed like sluggish cloud. Silver candelabras wove its lazy circle of light, casting pools of shimmering radiance on a floor polished to mirror sheen. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine, old paper, and spiced wine—a faint, intentional fragrance.

Polished moonstone tile extended in front of them, reflecting the light from each candle and glass. Music wafted—refined, far away—less of a celebration, more of a discussion. The type of song designed to fill quiet without ever dominating it.

Stretching windows outlined the twin moons rising now in the velvet sky, their pale light resonating over the chamber.

The walls held not paintings, but stories—murals half-whispered in soft brushstrokes. Every corner overflowed with quiet opulence: pillowed alcoves tucked between columns, golden trays holding plates of floating delicacies, chalices that refilled themselves.

"Breathe," Rias whispered gently at Leon’s side, her fingers brushing his wrist. "You look like you’re bracing for battle."

"I might be," Leon murmured, his lips curling slightly. "But not the kind with swords."

Cynthia leaned forward, her voice a melody. "They don’t know what to do with us, do they?"

"They will," Nova said, low and regal.

Within the ballroom, the atmosphere changed. Nobles turned—dukes, ministers, foreign ambassadors clothed in silks that whispered power and armor masquerading as robes. Conversations broke off in mid-sentence, as though the wine in their veins grew suddenly still.

All eyes turned.

Leon’s golden eyes swept the room once, cool and unreadable.

A room of power. A hive of observing smiles.

Nobles gathered in refined clusters, each faction staking out their corner of power. House Raventhorn whispered by the garden-view balcony, their voices tense and conspiratorial. Minister Elos, always the actor, waved expansively as he courted two jewel-robed merchants into his camp.

And then Leon.

He moved forward with calculated poise, Nova at his side like a moon swaddled in darkness. His wives trailed behind them—a vision in motion, attracting stares as gravity warps light. Whispering ran through the court. Jealousy seethed in well-oiled gazes. A few bowed fractionally. Others gazed, lips open.

Leon guided them toward a secluded alcove near the spilling wine fountain. The room’s soft music enveloped them.

A servant materialized and bowed, presenting a silver goblet with practiced ease.

Leon took it silently, raising the glass to his lips. He sipped slowly, deliberately—red wine, old and full-bodied, velvet against the tongue.

He breathed out through his nose.

His wives settled around him, each falling into the mood with trained elegance. Another server came over, this one with crystal flutes of old moonfruit wine. They were presented in deference. Leon accepted his with a nod, fingers grazing the chilled rim.

He swirled the wine once. The crimson color caught the lanternlight like blood under moonlight.

Nova stood at his side—speechless, shining. She sipped without a trace of feeling, as if nothing inside this room could pierce beneath her calm.

And then—

The rustle of silk. A flash of scarlet.

Rias drew near, her dress shimmering like fire on the move.

"Daddy."

Leon blinked, a slow movement of his head. The wine hesitated at his mouth.

He raised a brow.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

She smiled—mischievous and golden.

Rias leaned forward, her red dress lighting up the chandeliers’ light like dancing flame.

"You stood there through the entire ceremony, didn’t you?" she whispered, eyes sparkling with wickedness, the gentle ripple of lantern light dancing in her red eyes. "The princess’s moon bath—how lovely she was, how lovely?"

Leon laughed, the laugh low and silky, like velvet smoothed across glass. He sat back ever so slightly, wine unbreached in his hand. "Yes, sweetheart. I did."

Rias narrowed her eyes, the sultry suspicion dancing in its wake. "And?"

He sipped again—slow, untroubled—though his eyes drifted over the gathering, observing the glances sneaking toward them. His wives stood close, motionless in elegance, though a shade too rigid... listening without appearing to.

"She’s lovely," Leon said eventually, voice even and deliberative. "Like her mother was, once. Elegant. Well-suited to the kingdom."

A silence hung, heavy but silent, as if everyone sensed what had not been said.

Rias’s smirk grew, the edge in her eye becoming more keen.

"But tell me—" she smiled, "—was that all you observed?"

Syra’s dry tone cut through from the side. "Oh, just ask him already, Sister Rias. You’re awful at subtlety."

Aria laughed behind her glass. "Honestly, you’re flying around a hawk when you could simply pounce."

Leon leaned his head to one side, the corner of his mouth quivering in weak amusement.

Rias rolled her eyes, hand to her heart in mock drama. "Okay, okay. I’ll say it."

She moved in closer now, hands on her hips, eyes sparkling like a cat that’d caught a mouse.

"Do you want her in your harem, Daddy?"

The wine in Leon’s mouth almost betrayed him. He stopped mid-swallow.

Facing him, the corner of Nova’s mouth curled—but she still sipped at her drink, refined and unconcerned.

Leon’s gaze ran over the group surrounding him. Each face—his beaming wives, one a tale of passion and loyalty—was now trained on him.

All of them interested.

Some, delighted.

Even Nova’s warm amber stare was inscrutable—but firmly in place.

".What the hell," Leon muttered to himself. "How do you all—

"Oh, come on, Daddy," Rias cooed, her laughter-hued voice like silk. She leaned forward, running a manicured finger against his chest. "We know. You were staring at her as if she were made of stardust. And she..." Her smile was wicked. "She was staring back at you."

Leon’s mouth opened—then snapped shut. His eyes scanned the circle.

Syra crossed her arms, grinning like she’d suspected all along.

Aria observed him in silence, expression thoughtful and impassive.

Kyra’s face was serene, intuition fluttering in the back of her soft eyes.

Cynthia’s lips twitched with patient amusement.

Mia attempted to drink her wine discreetly; cheeks flushed with muffled delight.

Nova. was drinking too, unhurried and elegant—but never removed her eyes from him.

Leon let out a long, low breath, then glanced upward.

"I didn’t say anything. I only looked."

"But your eyes," Aria whispered, a smile playing on her lips. "They said it all."

He put up a hand to rub through his hair. "I—"

But the words were never spoken.

Because a new voice drifted in from behind them—delicate, warm, and taunting.

"Oh? So, this is where everyone has convened."

They turned.

At the periphery of their group, dressed in shining lavender and gold, stood none other than—

Princess Lira.

Her silver-white locks cascaded like silk down her back, the twin moons overhead snagging in her eyes with an almost otherworldly radiance.

She had a wine glass in one hand. Full. Unconsumed.

Her smile was bright. but there was a glint of something mischievous underlying it, as if she was quietly enjoying a private joke known only to herself, she realized. Candlelight caressed her cheekbones, tempering her poise but never concealing the quiet flames in her eyes.

Nova shifted a little, noticing the change in focus.

Opposite the room, Rias both arched her brows, her scarlet lips opening in a smirk. Aria cocked her head.

Cynthia took a sip of her drink carefully; eyes still fixed on new comer. Syra hummed softly in approval. Kyra just always watching. Mia, quieter than the others, looked over at Leon and then back to Nova. Warmth had been in her smile, that didn’t require words.

Leon surprised... but, he smiled.