Future Sisters, Present Hearts
"Because I missed you."
Leon’s words caressed her ear, gentle and warm like the wind of night blowing through an open door. Nova froze. They weren’t romantic or over-the-top, but sohow, they cut deeper than she was wasn’t prepared for.
Her heart—steady even amidst the fray of combat—traded on her now.
Thump.
Thump.
The noise resonated inside her, booming and urgent, as if it were trying to tell her sothing. She was sure he would be able to hear it, but her face hardly changed at all. A faint flush spread over her cheeks, one she quickly denied.
Of course, she’d already agreed to be his wife. But that didn’t an she’d revealed her softer spots to him. She was Nova—the storm of battle, the unflinching Grandmaster realm cultivator, the type of woman who didn’t bat an eyelid when blades were out. Vulnerability? That was a luxury she rarely granted herself.
So rather than responding to his sweetness, she cocked her head and smiled, arms looping carelessly over the shoulders as if not giving a fig.
"Oh? You missed ?" she teased, voice laced with feigned suspicion. "Those won in your mansion... finally get tired of your charm and finally throw you out?"
Leon blinked, and then laughed—a rich, amused sound that vibrated through his chest, totally untroubled. Amusent danced in his gold eyes, warm and knowing. Her barb did not co as a surprise. Having shown up in the capital surrounded by several stunning won, the gossip had spread like wildfire. Whispers dogged him everywhere—of the mysterious, notorious Duke Moonwalker and the beautiful companions who turned heads wherever they went.
He’d known the gossip was genuine—Black had told him so, anyway—and half the capital was certainly abuzz. But he hadn’t given a damn.
And Nova, then? Naturally, she’d heard. As the powerful Duchess of her province, with informants in every backwater of the empire, there was no way she could have avoided hearing. But being Nova, she’d likely laughed and disbelieved it on the spot.
His smile changed—still playful, but now tinged with sothing darker, more wicked. His arms wrapped tighter around her waist, drawing her in so that she sat snugly on his lap, close enough to sense the heat of him seeping into her own skin.
"They’re not won, Nova," he whispered against her ear, his voice low and slow. "They’re my wives. And your future sisters."
She stilled.
The words struck ho more than she anticipated, slamming into her like a renegade wave. Her breath was suspended, eyes going wide—only briefly.
"Your... wives?" she repeated, incredulity seeping into her normally firm voice.
Leon saw it all—the hesitation, the change in her stance, the flash in her green eyes before she covered it up with a cold look. He smiled even wider. Oh, he’d spotted it. That elusive break in her deanor. Even a person like her—keen, experienced, and hard to get rid of—hadn’t anticipated that one.
Most people didn’t. They assud the won at his side were staff, maybe suitors, perhaps honored guests. But wives? No one in the kingdom believed that. After all, Leon Moonwalker—the charming, untouchable Duke who’d turned down every high-born proposal sent his way. The kingdom’s most elusive bachelor. secretly married?
And now?
Nova, seated in his lap, had just found out the truth.
She blinked rapidly, clearly trying to process what he’d said.
Leon smiled gently at her face, then moved in to give her nose a tease.
"Oi—!" Nova’s forehead creased as she automatically wriggled her nose and swatted at his hand. "What’s that for?"
"You zoned out into so strange place," Leon said feigning innocence. "Thought I’d snap you out of it."
Nova glared at him a beat longer before she scoffed and shook her head, smiling. "Tch... I was just... surprised. You were the most stubborn bachelor in the whole kingdom. And now you’re married? That’s so serious news."
Her eyes narrowed a little—half teasing, half contemplative. "When you said wives... I thought I was hearing things. I an, from all I’ve known or heard of you, Duke Leon Moonwalker was still, the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor. And now you’re telling you already have multiple wives?"
Leon’s smile lost a little bit of its brightness—not altogether, just softened around the edges.
He knew why she stared at him that way. All of them thought he was unmarried. And until recently, they weren’t mistaken.
The old Leon never let himself accept love. Not after he discovered the reality about his condition—an ailnt no healer, mage, or alchemist could ever heal. It was simpler, he’d believed, to keep people away than to bring them near only to lose them.
He had loved twice in his lifeti.
The first one was Sona—refined, fierce, and full of passion. But she had wedded the king, and Leon had released her without a word. It wasn’t her fault. He never even inford her of his condition.
The second... was a childhood girlfriend. Warm, obstinate, and gentle. She had been present in the most still monts of his life, always out of reach. When he understood the reality of his condition, he had pushed her away too—without reason, without farewell. Years had brought her face to blur in his mind. Not only hers—but his mother’s face, as well.
It was odd. His inherited recollections, the ones that ca from old Leon, had beco indistinct around her face. As though sothing—soone—was keeping them from view. Or perhaps... waiting for the proper mont to show them.
His father’s face was sharp in his mind—serious, proud, unshakeable.
But his mother?
Only a silhouette now. A gentle, lovely outline shrouded in darkness.
Only a silhouette now. A gentle, lovely outline shrouded in darkness.
Once, he’d questioned the system on it—why parts of his inherited mory seed broken up, far away, nearly. sealed off.
And the system had replied in its typical flat, uncaring voice:
[Host, this is your new life. So mories are for you to find anew by yourselves. It is your path—so I do not intervene.]
So he dropped it.
Or at least, attempted to.
And now, in the present... he sighed—soft, nearly undetectable.
His gold-colored eyes, normally bright with mischief, lost their luster by just a fraction as he gazed beyond the mont.
Beyond Nova.
Beyond the room.
Stretching for sothing in his head that was just beyond reach—mories that refused to coalesce. But his gut told him that they did count. That hidden sowhere in that haze was sothing that was connected to his future.
Sothing significant.
"Leon?"
His thoughts broke like glass.
The soft pressure against his cheek surprised him. He blinked, snapped sharply back to the mont. His eyes darted down—and locked.
Her hands.
Nova’s hands were across his face. Her thumbs stroked just below his eyes. A bit rough from years of fighting, but so gentle with tenderness it caused his chest to constrict.
He blinked at her once more.
Nova’s face was near, her green eyes locked on him, seeking. Her brow was slightly creased, her tone soft, full of concern.
"Are you okay?"
Leon blinked again. Then again.
She was always aggressive. Always acerbic. Always a fight freak.
But in this instant—with her body twisted into his lap, her heat molded into him, her ink-black hair spilling over her shoulder, and her touch surprisingly gentle—she seed heartbreakingly and lovely woman.
But in her eyes... he saw concern.
Leon blinked and frowned slightly, confused by the shift in her expression, and asked, a bit amused, a bit touched, "...You’re worried?"
He reached up and gently took the hand she’d placed on his cheek, holding it there.
Nova didn’t pull away. Her cheeks flushed from the intimacy, but she scoffed, rolling her eyes like she could shrug it off.
"Hmph. You just went all quiet and looked like soone punched your soul. It’s not like I care or anything," she grumbled.
Her voice was softer than normal. Her eyes stayed on his a mont longer.
And Leon, gazing at her—not the warrior, not the battle freak, but simply Nova—felt sothing rise up in his chest.
A slow, real smile crept across his face. "You’re really cute when you try to act tough," he whispered.
She blinked. "H-Hah?! Try? I don’t try—I am tough!" she stuttered, her voice breaking, even as a huge smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
Leon laughed at her ruffled response. Before she could push him away or hurl another coback, he firm grip of his hand lightly over hers—the one still on his face—and administered a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"I’m okay," he said softly, golden eyes eting hers. "Especially now that I’m with you."
Nova opened her mouth... but no words ca.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes dropped. Her fingers twitched slightly in his grasp. And then—just barely—she smiled.
"Tch... Idiot," she whispered, the faintest curve on her lips.
Moonlight spilled through the open window behind them, spreading a soft light over the space. The air between them stilled, as if even ti had waited to see what would unfold.
Her warmth against his, her leg against his, her sll wild and soft—like rain on steel and fire in the wind.
Leon’s fingertips lay lightly on her waist, yet every inch of him vibrated with the closeness of her.
She hadn’t yet withdrawn her hand.
And Leon—his heart was racing.
But for once, it wasn’t in fight.
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