The First Wife’s Embrace
The air in the grand sitting room was comfortable, the golden radiance of enchanted lanterns casting shadows on the fine gleaming walls of the Moonspire mansion. Leon was towering in the middle of the room, wearing his characteristically black tunic adorned with golden fringes, but it wasn’t for his stance or imperial posture that everyone’s gaze went to him—it was that the red-haired beauty was draped around him like the missing part of his broken heart, ho at last.
Rias Moonwalker—his daughter, his first wife, the very first woman he’d encountered in this world upon his arrival—was holding on for dear life into his chest. Her arms were crossed over his waist in the possessive fervor of a woman who’d waited far too long. Her face was hidden in the solid heat of his chest, her breathing tickling through the fabric. She pushed her head further into him, her little purrs resonating in the air like a happy kitty, back to her secure and cozy spot at last.
"Daddy... Daddy..." she whispered, her voice heavy with yearning, love, and a sweet, childlike happiness that ti had never eroded. "I missed you so much..."
Leon smiled, a gentle, wistful smile that went all the way to his golden eyes. He lightly patted her on the back, his big hand going up and down in calming strokes.
"Missed you too, sweetheart," he told her, his voice low, warm, and heavy with emotion.
Off to the side, Aria, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra remained standing, their eyes on the spectacle. They’d jumped from the couch as soon as Rias threw herself into Leon’s arms. None of them said a word. The emotional impact of the reunion hung in the air—so tender, so intimate, so complete.
Aria smiled quietly, having known Rias for a very long ti. She was not surprised, only quietly happy. But the others—Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra—looked at each other uncertainly, a small knot of tension curling in their hearts. They’d heard stories from Leon and Aria, always said with approval—sweet, smart, and deeply sympathetic person—but to see her in person was different. She was stunning.
More significantly, she was the first. In the harem, first wives had a unique, unsaid power. Even if the others may be older or wiser in terms of life, Rias’s seniority ant that her words were authoritative and her approval wielded unquestionable influence.
And above all, she was the first wife. First wives were accorded a special, unspoken dominance in the harem. The other won in the harem may be wiser and older in life—but as first wife, Rias enjoyed a seniority above rank. Her status lent authority to her words and her stamp of approval held incontestable weight in Leon’s harem.
After a long, quiet embrace, Rias slowly pulled back, her arms still gently wrapped around him. Leon looked down at her, drinking in every inch of her as if trying to morize her all over again.
Her crimson hair shimred like living fla, cascading down her back in silky waves. Her eyes, the sa shade of crimson, sparkled with delight—but Leon saw beyond the surface. In those eyes, he saw desire, the type only ti and geography could foster. Her skin was alabaster white, her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in a red gown that cinched tightly at her ample bust, her lush thighs visible in its high-cut slit. Her body had filled out to an ideal hourglass—curves that sang of both strength and beauty.
She smiled at him with crimson lips, like rose petals, the edges of her mouth curled in brilliant happiness. But even in smiling, Leon sensed sothing more. She yearned for him—and he, for her. She was his first of everything. His first friend, first love, first wife.
And. his daughter.
He smiled softly. She smiled back, her scarlet eyes sipping in the face she had sorely missed. His black hair still flowed in gentle, shoulder-length waves. His gold eyes had not altered—stable, warm, brimming with the love she had yearned for. Gradually, she extended her hand, her narrow fingers tracing his cheek in a soft caress, as if to be sure he was actually there, actually hers once more.
"Daddy... you got better-looking sohow," she said sweetly.
Leon chuckled, taking her hand in his and pressing it gently against his cheek. "And you’ve gotten older, sweetheart—and even lovelier."
She laughed, a bright, musical sound. "I am. But not so much as you."
They both chuckled, their voices in perfect harmony. Out of the corner of her eye, Aria smiled fondly, but Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra kept silent watch. They didn’t intrude—but their tension was unmissable.
Aria had known Rias for ages and wasn’t nervous. But the other three had just heard of her—and seeing her, realizing the power she possessed, rearranged everything. She was younger, but her position was unassailable. In any decent harem, the first wife’s blessing ca above all else.
As they dazed, Rias turned her head—and saw the others. Her eyes landed on Aria first, and she smiled.
"Sister Aria!" she exclaid, striding over and embracing her tightly. "I missed you so much."
Aria blinked at the unexpected hug, but smiled and hugged her in return. "I missed you too, sister Rias."
Breaking out of the hug a little, Rias smiled broadly at Aria. "You’ve beco even more beautiful," she told her, her eyes sparkling with playful teasing. "Looks like Daddy has been taking very good care of you."
Aria colored slightly at the complint. "Yes, He... takes good care of ."
"Oh?" Rias’s eyes twinkled with mirth at Aria’s forthright response—sothing she hadn’t quite anticipated. She smiled and teased lightly, "Appears Sister Aria has beco brazen!"
"I guess so," Aria said with a brief smile.
Rias giggled, chard. "Can’t wait to discover how much more you’ve changed. But—I need to et so new faces."
Aria just nodded, a smile of understanding flickering on her lips. Rias turned to Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra next. The three stood up straight at once as she drew near, a flash of nervousness crossing their features. They all curtsied nervously—even Syra, who was normally so cheeky and outspoken.
Rias grinned at their seriousness. "So, I guess you three are my daddy’s loves—or wives?"
"Yes, Lady Rias," the three said in one voice.
Rias crossed her arms, a smile mischievous. "You can lift your heads? I don’t feel like having a conversation with bent faces for nothing."
As they raised their eyes, Rias looked closely at each of them—Cynthia’s serene deanor, Kyra’s steady unyielding presence, and Syra’s familiar warmth with a touch of nervousness. She nodded in satisfaction. "You all want to remain with my daddy’s side?
Yes," Cynthia replied firmly, with nodding agreent from Kyra and Syra.
Rias smiled kindly, then asked, "Can you introduce yourselves first? I didn’t even know your nas."
Imdiately, the three looked at one another, realizing they’d forgotten to introduce themselves correctly—not just to Rias, but also forgot to do it in front of Aria. Aria’s eyes grew a bit wide, as she also picked up on the mistake.
Cynthia moved forward with elegance. "I’m Cynthia. This is Kyra, and that one is Syra."
Rias nodded with a smile. "Nice to et you, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra."
"We’re glad to et you too," the three said in chorus.
A second smile from Rias, and then her eyes suddenly went cold. The warmth was replaced by an icy, piercing stare. A quiet tension filled the room.
Leon’s golden eyes flashed with interest. Aria’s smile softened ever so slightly. Neither one broke in—they knew Rias too well: how calculating and astute she was. So, for the ti being, they decided not to intervene.
Rias’s said her voice plumted to a chill, unflinching calm. "Then let ask a question."
The room went deathly still.
"Suppose that your life would certainly end... unless you gave up sothing special in order to live... and that special thing... was my daddy—" she stopped, allowing the burden of her words to linger, "—would you allow yourself to die... or give him up?"
The inquiry sent a shiver down the room. Aria moved toward the two of them but halted when Leon softly took her hand in his. She looked at him, and he ever so slightly nodded his head—telling her to allow Rias to proceed.
Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra stood still, the gravity of the situation dawning on them. They understood that this was a test.
Cynthia was the first to answer, her voice steady and unwavering. "I would rather choose death than sacrifice my husband."
Kyra nodded firmly. "If it ca to that, I’d choose death over betraying him."
Syra, ever bold and defiant, lifted her chin with fierce determination. "I’d choose neither. I’d find a way to destroy whatever forced into that choice."
Rias’s eyes sparked first with surprise, then fell into contentnt. "Hmm. I’m satisfied with all your answers," she said, her eyes lingering on Syra. She gestured to her with a small, smug smile. "But yours, Syra. your answer was particularly fine."
The three exhaled their relief, bowing slightly. "We’re happy you enjoyed our answers, Lady Rias."
But Rias raised a finger, her tone now sharp but affectionate. "If you’re going to be my daddy’s wives or lovers... don’t call Lady. That formality isn’t needed in family. Call ’Sister Rias.’"
The three froze, stunned by her words—by her inclusion of them as family. If she said that, it ant they had the first wife’s approval.
Then, slowly, tentative smiles crept onto their faces.
"...Sister Rias," they said in unison, their tones a bit uncertain but genuine.
Rias smiled, pleased. But she did not get to say anything again as she was engulfed by arms from behind. She didn’t need to turn around—she knew that hug.
Leon laid his head on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned back against him, a happy sigh escaping her lips.
You got so really great won, daddy," she said, smiling
Leon laughed, kissing her cheek. "My taste in won has always been the best.
Laughter spread across the room, light and sincere. Aria, Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra laughed along, their grins only increasing as the ice between them dissipated. Even Rias’s normally stoic face relaxed into joy. Leon observed them, his own grin expanding, though a hint of nervousness remained—worrying what his sweet Rias would really do. But now, seeing her carefree, he felt relief flood over him.
It was then that a new presence erged in the room. Fey entered softly, blushing across her cheeks as she stopped to look at the cozy scene before her. A soft gasp escaped her mouth.
At once, all heads turned toward the hallway—where Fey stood, blushing brightly. Her maid uniform was tightly clung her body highlight her hourglass body curves, her cheeks red as her eyes landed on Leon’s intimate pose with the new woman.
Rias raised a curious eyebrow at Leon, silently asking, who is she?
Leon t her gaze and smiled softly. "She’s the maid-in-charge during our stay, dear."
"Ah, I see," Rias whispered, her eyes scanning Fey head to foot.
Leon yelled out, "Fey."
She was brought back to reality, and her whole body beca conscious of all the staring faces. Hastily straightening, she curtsied apologetically. "L-Lord Duke! I ca to... tell you that dinner is served," she stamred, trying to maintain her calm.
Leon blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. He looked out through the high living room window. The sky had darkened to a rich navy, moonlight dripping gently through the panes as magical lanterns lit up the halls.
A soft smile crossed his lips as he recognized how ti had passed—imrsed in reunion with Rias and his wives, he had not even realized.
Turning back to Fey, he spoke warmly, "Thank you, Fey."
Then, turning to his wives, he put in with a warm smile, "Let’s eat, everyone. Let’s go."
The won smiled. They accompanied him to the dining room—a handso room with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and a large polished table in the center. Velvet chairs lined the walls, golden place settings shimring under soft light.
Leon occupied the central seat. Rias sat to his right, with Aria beside her. To his left were Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra.
Fey and four other maids entered with steaming plates: roasted duck in berry glaze, honeyed vegetables, cheese pies baked, and silver jugs of magical wine. The room was filled with the heavenly scent.
Leon spoon-fed all his won adoringly—daintily placing tender morsels on their plates, sotis right into their mouths. His wives showed love in return, feeding him likewise, laughter and gentle banter skipping across the table.
Rias felt sothing in Syra that was familiar—untad, hot-blooded, and free-spirited, as she was herself. A smiling smile played about her mouth as eyes shone with subtle pleasure. She leaned just a little forward, whispering with a mischievous smile,
"You and I... we’re very much alike. We’ll get along perfectly, Sister Syra."
Syra grinned. "I was thinking the sa sister Rias."
And so, the heartfelt dinner continued—longer than expected. The night outside deepened, but within the walls of the mansion, warmth, laughter, and bonds old and new wrapped around them like a protective cloak.
For Leon who watched with quite smile, happiness was this. Not the opulence of his mansion or his authority, but simple pleasure of being among those he loves.
User Comments
0 comments from readers