The Bracelets.
The carriage ca to a gentle stop just short of the fancy silver gates of the palace grounds. The gentle creak of the door swinging open was heard like a sigh against the high-stone walls that enclosed the mansion. A soft breeze caressed, bringing with it the sll of clipped hedges, freshly polished marble, and fragrant violet roses that edged the entrance walkway.
Leon went out first, his boots thudding onto the well-oiled white stone with disciplined ease. The instant he stepped out, the slight tension of anticipation in the air gave way—as if the world outside the capital hesitated, just for a mont, to recognize him. His greatcoat billowed fractionally with the breeze, his face impassive, but his amber eyes sparkled with assessnt.
The others went out, one by one.
Last but not least were Aria, her violet dress flowing with gracious nobility, eyes as piercing as before. Cynthia followed, stately and serene, with her Black locks spilling over her shoulders like dark evening sky. Kyra and Syra erged together, their steps liquid and unnervingly in tandem, as if they both possess the sa facial feature such as long green hair and eyes. All four won carried dignified stances befitting their stations—yet what created the strange scene were the golden bracelets tightly wrapped around each of their wrists.
Plain in design but with a faint, otherworldly sheen—those bracelets did not exist anywhere in the Kingdom of Galvia.
These were Cultivation-Suppressing Bracelets, every one of which bore the uncommon power to conceal a cultivator’s actual strength so that it was one realm short of to their real cultivation. These relics unprecedented to Galvia—neither crafted by any master craftsman’s hand nor head in nay legend. These relics had been bought by Leon from the System Shop.
It had taken so blank point out of his pocket, but it was necessary.
In the capital city, where King of the Moonstone Kingdom ruled as a Monarch-level cultivator and his palace was filled with Grandmasters—to include three Great Dukes that served the kingdom—Leon is one such great duke and his own level of a Grandmaster was decent, but not outstanding. But if he was suddenly surrounded by several other Grandmaster-level cultivators, that would be questionable. Suspect questions. His wives, were their actual power to be revealed, would disrupt the appearance of equilibrium he’d so skillfully built in silence.
Power attracts notice. And notice attracts suspicion of king and others.
And suspicion... that might an destruction. Not rely death, but worse—being branded a traitor by the very throne he intended, one day, to usurp.
Not out of fear of the King.
Leon knew all about it. One day, not today, not tomorrow...but soon enough, he would ascend to the throne. He would not be governed—he would govern. But that day had not yet arrived. For the ti being, he had to wear the guise of a dutiful subordinate. He had to have the capital to regard him as a great Duke—Strong, but not dangerous in the King’s eyes. Benevolent, but not ambitious. Dedicated, but never deceitful.
Which was why, when he had originally given the bracelets to his wives, reactions had been... less than fluid.
"You ask to repress my cultivation?" Aria had demanded, raising an eyebrow. "And where in the world did you get these?"
Leon had laughed with a casual grin. "I found them in my ancestor’s treasury. Behind so ancient armor sets."
Kyra and Syra had narrowed their eyes at him with identical suspicion. Cynthia, as ever the calm one, gazed at the artifact in her hand with silent incredulity.
But ultimately, they acquiesced.
Because they trusted him. And because, like him, they knew the ga they were playing.
---------
In the here and now, Leon and his wives now faced the entrance of a mansion that was as grand as royal palaces.
A monolith of ivory stone and dark blue marble, edged in silver, the estate glimred under the late afternoon sun. Arched windows filled with golden lattice reflected the sun’s radiance. Dozens of delicately ford pillars surrounded the front, rising to a dod roof adorned with the markings of the royal crescent moon.
It was—beyond question—more lavish than Leon’s mansion in Silver City.
At its broad double doors stood two lines of royal guards. So had silver armor emblazoned with the insignia of the Moonstone Kingdom, and others—larger—wore matte black plate mail. Their faces were empty, stern. Between them was Captain Arin, his dark armor reflecting as he approached Leon with a bow of respect.
"Lord Duke," he replied, his voice sharp, "this shall be your resting mansion during your sojourn in the capital. If you have any desires or need any services, kindly report to the stationed guards. I shall attend personally if I am available."
Leon nodded once, his face serene. "Very well."
He knew the whole capital was abuzz with preparations for the Princess’s coming-of-age ceremony—a diversion he intended to capitalize on – and future agenda.
Arin added, "One other thing, Lord Duke."
Leon looked at him, slightly interested.
"His Majesty has directed that you take a rest day today. He will see you tomorrow. When the ti is right, I will personally take you to His Majesty."
A beat elapsed, and Leon nodded softly. "I see. I will wait for you to co."
As a crown subject, Leon had deliberately co to the capital to pay a visit to the King—a gesture of courtesy, etiquette, and careful maneuvering. But now that the King himself was opting to see him the next day, Leon experienced a soft aura of relief. He could breathe for now.
Arin bowed once more. "Then my task here is done. I ask your permission to leave, Lord Duke."
"Granted," Leon replied, then hesitated. "Ah, wait—Captain Arin."
Arin turned back; eyebrows raised.
Leon smiled slightly. "You know my daughter, Rias. Where is she?"
Arin’s eyes flicked montarily with surprise. "Yes, naturally. Young Miss Rias is presently helping the Princess choose her dress for the ceremony."
Aria inquired, "She doesn’t know we’ve co?"
Arin replied calmly, "She is aware of your arrival, Lady."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "And yet she’s not here?"
"She intends to visit once she has finished helping the Princess," Arin explained. "Her presence is great help to the Princess today."
Leon nodded slowly, his smile lingering. "Very well."
Arin bowed one final ti. "Please do not thank , Lord Duke. This is my duty." With that, he turned and strode off with his guards in tow, their figures disappearing down the path like fading silhouettes.
Leon watched them go before glancing at his second-in-command. "Black, see to it our guards are settled. Assign rotations. This place is unfamiliar."
Black saluted crisply. "Don’t worry, my lord. I’ll handle everything."
Leon next addressed his wives. "Shall we?"
They nodded and followed by his side, the soft clinks of their boots and heels ringing over the highly polished stone as they walked towards the large doors. The gate guards bowed low as they went through.
Within, the mansion was nothing less than magnificent.
A huge entry way welcod them, its lofty ceiling having been rendered into a mural of moons and stars. Golden chandeliers dangled like hovering suns, their fire burning softly. Silk coverings graced the walls. Blue rose vases towered in each corner. It all echoed with refinent—of elegance, of power, of wealth.
They soon walked into the living room, a roomy chamber with velvet sofas, glass coffee tables, and a silver fireplace at the opposite end. A balcony overlooked an enclosed garden filled with violet blooms.
Enjoying the view, footsteps sounded from the hallway.
She walked in from behind the door.
She had long dark hair that glistened like ink in sunlight, kept back with a silver ribbon. Her eyes were big and deep black, set into thick eyelashes. She had a black-and-white maid’s uniform on—tight with a short skirt that showed smooth, pale thighs. Her body was curvy, with full breasts that jiggled a little as she bowed.
"My Lord," she replied, her voice all sweetness and honey. "Welco. I am Fey, your head maid. I shall be seeing to your needs while you are here." Leon’s eyes lingered a fraction of a beat too long on her breasts before he realized his mistake and looked away. His wives caught it. Aria elevated an amused brow, and Syra elbowed him softly. He cleared his throat and smiled with aplomb.
Fey moved aside, and behind her stood four more maids—each one as beautiful as the last. All shared identical black hair, differing lengths and styles, and seductive curves that were highlighted by their uniforms. Cherry lips, gentle smiles, and shining eyes—each radiated a subtle sensuality.
When the maids caught sight of Leon, they literally ca to a standstill.
Their cheeks blushed. So gave each other furtive glances. One ca close to tripping, managing just in ti to catch herself.
It was obvious they had never seen a man like him.
Leon’s aura, even suppressed, held a weight—his golden eyes and sculpted face radiated presence and subtle command.
The wives smirked knowingly, shaking their heads.
"I..." Fey quickly composed herself. "My apologies, my lord. These are my colleagues—Mira, Lena, Rui, and Mona. We’re honored to serve you."
Leon gave a slight nod. "We’re in your care, then."
Fey bowed again. "The pleasure is ours."
As all of them settled onto the velvet couches, Leon spoke to her. "Fey. Get us so tea, will you?"
"Of course, my lord," she replied with a fluid bow. "Imdiately."
While the maids vanished into the kitchen, Leon relaxed back into the pillows’ softness. His wives clustered around him, the tension of travel slowly dissipating.
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