Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 116: The Allure of New Charm

The Allure of New Charm

The lobby of the Rose Palace Inn had a timelessness to it, a warm balance of opulence and coziness. Polished marble floors glowed with the soft light of crystal chandeliers that hung from the high, vaulted ceilings. Intricately carved wooden walls were interrupted by rich tapestries that told tales of ancient legend. Rich velvet armchairs and intricate coffee tables were carefully positioned, enticing visitors to stay awhile and chat. The aroma of fresh roses gently filled the air, a reverent nod to the inn’s namesake.

Amidst this splendor, some maids glided effortlessly, their uniforms immaculate and footsteps deliberate as they dusted and tweaked the floral arrangements. Their gaze would sometimes flit towards the main desk, which sat noticeably bare. Around the desk, four women remained in statuesque silence, their presence impossible to ignore.

Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra were visions of elegance and refinement. Aria’s white and purple robe harmonized with her flowing purple hair and purple eyes, radiating a peaceful elegance. Cynthia’s blue and white dress reflected the richness of her black eyes and hair, projecting a calm disposition. Kyra’s dark green clothes accentuated her emerald eyes and corresponding hair, while Syra’s golden outfit glimmered against her green features. Both of them carried gold accessories and intricately styled hairpins, adding to their royal look.

The maids, though used to having highborn visitors, couldn’t but steal glances at the quartet, their faces a mixture of envy and admiration. However, the four women were unruffled, their eyes fixed on the stairs, as if waiting for someone to arrive.

The echo of footsteps coming down the stairs commanded every attention. When Aria and the others turned, their eyes opened a fraction wider, and their mouths curved upward in smiles. Leon stepped into view; his very arrival spellbinding. His golden eyes were magnetically attractive, and his black hair shone with the light of the chandelier; his features appeared more chiseled, radiating an inescapable charm. The maids set their work aside for an instant, their minds dazed. The impact of his newly developed Charm Maximizer ability was undeniable.

Leon, upon catching sight of his wives, was also hardly taken and found himself with his breath clogged in his throat. Their beauty seemed even more lovely, illuminated by their stylish clothes and bright smiles, hit him freshly. He thought to himself, "In a former life, I must have done a thousand good deeds to be so fortunate."

Leon also observed the impact his newfound charm had on his wives as well as the other female employees, he smiled quietly to himself. "It appears the Charm Maximizer is stronger than I expected," he said to himself.

Leon came up to them with that familiar smile of his—teasing, confident, and totally disarming. He did not say a word. Rather, he raised both hands and, starting from the first one, playfully pinched the soft, rosy cheeks of his wives.

"Ouch!"

"Oh!"

"Ah!"

"Huh?"

Their shocked gasps erupted like apprehensive music, shattering the awed hush which had descended upon the lobby like a spell. The two sisters blinked simultaneously, as if the world suddenly snapped back into focus.

Even the maids, hitherto frozen like statues in a daydream, were shaken out of it. Consciously aware that they had been gazing, they turned bright red and hurried to get back to work—dusting, sweeping, dressing flowers—anything to cover their flushed faces.

Leon smiled warmly, observing the waves of shyness ripple across the room. He crossed his arms and cocked his head ever so slightly, that glint of gold still dancing in his eyes.

"My beauties," he said with an affected sigh, "were you all daydreaming?"

His deep, teasing voice held a hint of loving mischief that caused even the maids to look his way again before hastily looking down.

Syra was the first to heal. A smile spreading across her lips, she leaned in close enough that her breath caressed the column of his neck. Her green eyes glittered with mirth and desire.

"We were lost in your charm, darling," she crooned without guilt, as if it was the most obvious response in the universe.

Kyra nodded in her side, a barely perceptible pink still on her cheeks. Aria emitted a gentle snort through her nose, sweeping a strand of purple hair back behind her ear with economical grace. Cynthia, her arms folded beneath her bust, eyed him appraisingly once over, the corner of her lip curving upward in a small smile.

"She’s right," Cynthia said easily. "Good heavens, what did you put on your face this morning? You’re more. radiant than usual. It’s not fair."

Aria performed an over-the-top sigh. "I should have done something different with my hair. If I’d had any idea our husband would come down as a sun-kissed demigod, I would’ve worn a crown."

Even Kyra, normally the most subdued, couldn’t resist joining in gently. "You appear. more intriguing today, Leon. On occasion, even the maids are having trouble breathing."

Leon released a soft, musical laugh, indulging in their admiration. But within, his mind buzzed with mirth.

So this is Charm Maximizer’s effect... even they’re surprised.

After all, he had no desire to expose the truth until he was in a better position to do so.

"I didn’t put on anything," he said with a pained look. "I’m always this charming. You just didn’t see it. I’m really a little crushed."

His voice became mordantly tragic on the final sentence, and all four women rolled their eyes in instantaneous harmony.

"Oh, here we go," Cynthia said softly under her breath.

"I swear he practices this in front of the mirror," Aria joked, shaking her head with amusement.

Even Kyra gave an uncharacteristic eye-roll, though her lips were fighting a smile. Syra only giggled and gave his arm a fond squeeze.

"You love teasing, huh?"

Leon’s grin widened. "I’m not even trying yet."

"Darling," Cynthia cut in smoothly, stepping closer with an air of playful scolding. "Please, just a little less drama in public. We’re causing a scene."

Leon furrowed an eyebrow and shot a look around the lobby. Indeed, the maids and female staff were still casting furtive glances at him—some of them staring brazenly, others blushing behind feather dusters or half-polished trays.

He turned again to Cynthia and the rest, sending a disarming, wry smile. "Ah... too late for that, I think."

Then, standing there among them in his soft-spoken, velvet-soft voice, he added,

"Dear ladies, be honest with me—am I being too melodramatic? Or have I caused any unease?"

The impact was immediate. A number of the maids froze, obviously aware he was addressing them. One pale-faced young woman, white-knuckled fists clutching a tray, stuttered forward.

"N-No, m-my lo-lord... you... h-haven’t..." she struggled out, speaking barely over a whisper and with flaming cheeks.

Leon gave her a gentle, grateful smile. "Good. I’d never want to cause discomfort to such diligent and beautiful workers."

If their hearts hadn’t already skipped a beat, they certainly did now. A ripple of giggles and nervous whispers followed, though no one dared speak aloud again.

He turned back to his wives, shrugging innocently. "See? All is well."

Syra giggled again and poked his chest. "You love causing scenes, don’t you?"

He smiled. "Only lovely scenes."

Aria spoke up, "Maybe we should leave before your charm makes someone faint."

Leon laughed and agreed. "Okay, okay. Let’s not traumatize the staff." But as he moved to leave, he hesitated, sending a final flirtatious wink over his shoulder at the still-gaping maids.

"I’ll take my leave, beautiful ladies. Until next time." As Leon and his wives stepped beyond the grand doors of the Rose Palace Inn, the morning air greeted them with a crisp chill laced with the scent of rain. Behind them, the ornate lobby slowly settled into silence. Yet within its walls, the memory of Leon’s final smile lingered like perfume.

A few of the female staffmembers emitted soft, almost inaudible sighs, their hands suspended in mid-task. Some of the maids, already flushed on the cheeks, grew pinker—one of them leaned drunkenly, grabbing the gleaming railing to hold herself upright, as if she felt the quake of that shattering charm. There was no speaking, but they all stared dazed and made one fact perfectly obvious: Leon Moonwalker had made his mark too strong to be forgotten.

Outside, an imposing carriage was waiting, reminiscent of a royal pageant—its body a shining mixture of sapphire blues and snow whites, adorned with silver tracings that reflected the rising sun. Four of the glorious Windsteed horses, their white manes flying like clouds, stamped at the damp ground with refined annoyance.

Standing at the side of the clearing was Captain Black, always calm in his black armor, directing preparations with keen-eyed purpose. Backing him were a few guards, armor shining under the now-dispersed clouds, standing at the sides of the path with trained deliberation. And beyond them, waiting with courteous restraint, was Lord Tharn, the lord of Willow Town, wearing a dark velvet cloak with the silver shield of his family embroidered on it.

Standing next to him, in opulent robes of brocade and with the modest dignity of a generous host, was a neatly groomed gentleman—the owner of the Rose Palace Inn. Both men stiffened at Leon’s arrival, their eyes not simply fixed on the duke himself but also on the brilliant quartet of noblewomen walking serenely at his side.

As Leon and the wives stopped in front of the carriage, the guards went down low, fists to hearts in respectful obeisance. Lord Tharn and the innkeeper imitated them; heads bowed low.

Leon smiled warmly but firmly.

"Please, rise."

They rose instantly. Leon then nodded quietly at Black.

"Has everything been settled?"

Black bowed graciously. "Yes, my lord. All has been arranged. The bill has been settled in full."

Leon smiled a little—he’d never had reason to question Black’s competence.

He turned to Lord Tharn, his voice gentled with real gratitude.

"Thank you for your help yesterday. Your welcome and quick thinking were worth their weight in gold."

Lord Tharn stood up straight, face proud but modest.

My lord, you do me honor. Serving a war hero such as yourself is no chore—it is an honor. Don’t thank me, please. I was only too happy to do it."

Leon inclined his head, his golden eyes then moving to the innkeeper.

"You are the proprietor of this excellent inn."

The man bowed once more, deeply.

"Yes, my lord. I am so grateful beyond words that the Rose Palace could accommodate you and your esteemed wives. Only that I wish your visit had been enjoyable."

Leon’s smile grew wider, moved by the sincerity of the man.

"It was far more than enjoyable. I will recall this place—and your hospitality."

The face of the innkeeper brightened. "Then, my lord, might I be so presumptuous as to say—if ever your journeys bring you by this route again, the Rose Palace would be honored to have you return to it."

Leon bowed his head graciously. "Of course. You have my word.

The Windsteed horses softly snorted in unison, their white bellies shining in the morning light. The duke’s cloak stirred in the slightest of breezes as he pivoted toward the carriage, hand lightly on the door.

He stopped one last time and looked back toward Lord Tharn.

"We’ll depart now. I don’t wish to keep the capital waiting."

Lord Tharn moved forward with a polite bow.

Safe travels, my lord. And may the winds guide your way."

Leon gave one final nod and, with smooth efficiency, escorted each of his brides into the carriage. The door shut quietly, and a moment later the Windsteed horses came to life, hooves clattering on the cobblestones as the caravan started its stately withdrawal from the Rose Palace Inn.

Above it, the storm had at last relaxed its hold. The grey clouds which had shrouded Willow Town now grew thin as silk, merely enough to allow sunlight to break through in gentle, golden shafts. The town, washed sparkling clean by the rain, shone as if in a dream—roofs sparkling, pavements still wet, the smell of earth and rain blending in the fresh morning air.

Children waved along the roadside. Citizens stopped halfway; eyes attracted to the regal forms seen through carriage windows. Inside, Leon and his wives rode together in comfortable silence, the proximity of their bodies a muted reflection of the tempestuous night that had preceded them.

As they rode through the old gates, Leon looked back over his shoulder one last time, wistful. Before them, sunlight flashed on the horizon—Moonspire, the Moonstone Kingdom’s capital, lay ahead. Their quest moved on again.5