Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 36: Whispers in the Sunlight.

Whispers in the Sunlight.

The hallway lay before her like a gentle dream, bathed in the soft light of early morning. Stained glass windows, towering and somber, cast streaks of rose, amber, and violet over marble floors. All seemed caressed by something holy.

Leon walked beside Aria; their hands entwined in peaceful closeness. No words were exchanged, but none were necessary. Their pace was slow, unhurried, every step vibrating a personal rhythm—the peace after a storm, the start of something unspoken yet profound.

"Aria's hand curled a bit tighter around his. The silence wasn't empty—it felt like it was bearing something unspoken, hanging lightly between them."

When they reached the study, Leon released her hand only to push the heavy oak door open. It gave a familiar creak, a sound she'd heard countless times—but today, it felt different. Everything did.

Warm air met them, sweet with the odor of parchment, ink, and wax—and the flower-scented breeze that came in the window curled and crept in like a spirit of summer. Sunlight streamed across the desk and shelves, golding the edges of papers and playing among half-written notes in gold.

Aria moved into the study slowly, as if with reverence. Her gaze scanned the room—past the mahogany desk, the tall bookshelves, the ink pots strewn about. All was as before. And yet...

She stood still, breathing deeply, the scent of flowers catching in her throat.

"This study feels different today," she whispered, almost to herself.

Leon's brow rose in amusement. "Different? How so, my dear?

Aria faced him, her voice uncertain, but her eyes firm. "Each time I walked into here previously... it was as your maid. Your secretary. A servant performing a task."

She smiled, gentle and bashful, but now there was another emotion in her eyes. Something more.

"But today..." She paused to let the words settle before concluding, "Today I come as your wife."

Leon's brows shot up in surprised amusement. There was something about the way she'd said wife—hesitant, near wonder—that thawed him. He moved a step closer, his knuckles scraping her cheek. She didn't move away this time. The shield she used to hide behind—shyness, reserve—had disappeared. "Well," he murmured, his voice low, gentle, "Then make it a habit, my love. This room. This space. This life—it's yours now. For now, and forever."

A slight laugh escaped her lips, mere noise. She nodded.

Without hesitation, he grasped her hand once more and guided her towards his desk. When he settled into his high-back chair, she automatically moved to gather the work of the day, collecting scrolls and sealed missives from the side cabinet where she kept her workings in order.

"All right," she started, smoothing one open. Her voice changed—it was utilitarian, direct. The voice he'd grown accustomed to during days of work and routine.

"This one's from the Silver City council," she said, scanning the lines. "They're seeking your sanction on a new infrastructure proposal—widening roads, bridges. There's a second proposal from the trade ministry, redirecting caravans through the northern valleys —"

Leon heard not a single word of it.

Not at all.

His gaze was on her, not the scroll. The way her lips curled as she read, the small crease between her brows when she focused. Marriage had changed her—rounded her in some areas, but honed her in others. She was brighter than ever. And unmistakably more... feminine.

He considered. Gods, she was beautiful when she worked.

"Little wifey," he broke in, his tone silky and teasing.

Aria stuttered in mid-sentence, visibly taken aback by the word 'Wifey'. "W-What?"

He slanted forward slightly, a twinkle in his eyes. "I find it horribly awkward—you standing there, reading all these papers."

Her face wrinkled into a frown of puzzlement. "Why you feel horribly awkward? Is anything wrong?"

He put on a show of being vexed. "Just a strange pang in my soul, watching my dear wife stand so distant."

She glared at him suspiciously and spoke with a sigh. "You're being dramatic again."

"I would never," he replied, playing the innocent.

She arched an eyebrow and turned, moving towards the chair in front of his desk—the one she'd sat in a hundred times before.

But Leon arched an eyebrow, watching her begin to turn away. "And where do you think you're going?"

She looked back over her shoulder. "You said you didn't like me standing, so I'm sitting. Problem solved."

"Foolish woman." His voice lowered, playful and full of laughter. And then, in a flash of decision, he slapped his thigh. "This is what I meant. Sit here."

Aria's eyes went wide. "Y–Your lap?"

He smirked playfully. "Yes, unless you'd rather have the cold, wooden chair."

Her heart skipped. She stared at him for a moment, cheeks flushed—but there was something else. A quiet delight that curled in her heart and she think, this is my Leon now. My husband. Always teasing. Always charming. and if I need to live with her, I need to become bolder.

"Fine," she mumbled, stepping forward.

She settled gently onto his lap, her back straight, posture still stiff with hesitation. But as his arms came around her waist, drawing her in close, she felt herself soften—melt, almost—against the steady warmth of him.

Leon exhaled slowly, content.

"Now, this is better," he said, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment. "Productivity just doubled."

She snorted under her breath. "You're impossible."

And you," he muttered into her neck, "are also highly impossible to overlook when you're work mode. So intense. So serious. It's wickedly sexy."

Her elbow gently prodded at his rib cage. "You'll never be serious about your responsibilities again, will you?"

"Not when you're my distraction. No.

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She smiled at him—a soft warning—but her lips curved with the possibility of a grin. Slowly, she refaced the scrolls, embracing the absurdity of it all. And strangely, it was. nice. Reassuring. Like they'd established their beat without even noticing.

Time moved on.

The crackle of parchment hung in the air, now and then punctuated by the scratch of a quill or the sigh of a turning page. Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room, now a golden honey-warm that made each corner of the study a little softer, a little more alive.

Aria adjusted slightly on his lap, leaning a little more into him. Her body had become accustomed to the heaviness of his arms around her, the warmth of him underneath her.

"Leon," she said softly, not raising her eyes from the parchment, "just this once—can we concentrate? These proposals won't sign themselves."

He kissed her shoulder, voice muffled but still teasing. "I am concentrating. Entirely. On my wife."

She cocked her head at him, unreceptive. "Leon."

His smile stretched across his face. "Yes, my love?"

"If you continue this," she told him, all sugar, "I'll rise and occupy that horrid chair over there."

He gasped as if she'd hurt him. "You'd abandon me? In mid-scroll? That's evil. That's treachery."

"Call it a tactical maneuver," she said drolly.

"Please," he breathed, holding her tight as if she'd disappear. "Not the wooden chair. Anything but that."

Aria attempted to cover her grin and blush but was unsuccessful. "I should have known last night with me would make you worse."

"No, no. last night improved me. It's you who entice me into trouble."

She snickered to herself, the sound low and intimate. Then her eyes fell back to the paper, but her mind hung on to him just another moment.

He's always tormenting, always looking for ways to push me off center, she thought.

And yet. part of her didn't mind.

Part of her enjoyed it.

Perhaps too much.

But just as the moment had fallen into warmth and familiarity—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound shattered the silence like a rock through quiet water.

Aria stiffened at once. Leon stood up under her.

"My lord," was said from outside the door. Male. Formal. With an undertone of urgency.

"An envoy from the capital has come. He requests an audience. The business is flagged urgent."

Aria and Leon shared a piercing look—both aware, both cautious.

Again?

Just a few days prior, a royal messenger had arrived, carrying a parchment stamped with the royal seal—an invitation to Moonspire, the center of the realm. Another one now?

Aria leapt from his lap, smoothing her dress. She stepped back to stand next to him, slightly more formal now.

Leon didn't comment on her abrupt change—he knew. There were certain things, such as appearances, that still held importance. And when there were strangers around, she didn't want to be caught in so intimate a moment.

He cleared his throat.

"Bring him in," Leon bellowed, voice firm, authoritative.

They gazed at one another once more—doubt swept between them like a chill wind.

Whatever this was, whatever it meant—they would meet it as a couple.