Before the Storm, A Mont of Warmth
He moved forward, the quiet of his steps claiming the faint focus of the room. As he approached the couches, Fey slid toward him, her hips swaying with a cultured seductiveness that felt as effortless as breathing. She moved like silk co to life, a vision of loveliness schooled to oblige—but it was not obligation that ward her eyes when they t his.
She stooped to pour him tea, the scent rich and comforting as it drifted up.
"Your tea, my lord," she said softly, her voice a sigh, eyes cast modestly down but with an unvoiced warmth.
Leon took the cup, a thin smile. "Thank you, Fey."
She looked up at him for an instant, her mouth going up in a smile. "My pleasure, Master."
He sipped—taste earthy, soothing, familiar. The heat of the cup in his hands, but the real heat was from the room itself, from the won there, their being more stabilizing than anything else.
His gaze walked over them one by one.
Rias reclined like a scarlet queen, her figure stretched out indolently along the armrest, a single lock of hair running across her eye, her eyes smoldering. Cynthia sat rigid, calm as a still lake, her tea cup untouched in her hands, eyes vigilant and inscrutable. Aria, ever the one to catch his secrets, smiled knowingly, lips quirking up at the corners of her mouth. Syra winked teasingly at him the instant their eyes locked, while Kyra, increasingly reserved, tilted her head marginally—quiet concern hidden beneath her tranquil exterior.
But the tranquility was fleeting.
"Where were you?" Aria asked first, her voice sweetly acidic, brows furrowed ever so slightly in feigned annoyance.
"You disappeared from the banquet," Cynthia added, voice low and even, though her eyes shone with sothing gentler. "Without saying a single word."
Syra rested her chin in her hand, green eyes narrowing. "We were just about to raze the city searching for you."
Kyra nodded, voice quiet. "You made us anxious, Leon."
And you didn’t co back until now," Rias continued, arms crossed over her chest, eyes unblinking. "That’s not like you."
Stepping out from the corner of the room, Mia hesitated, her hand tightly grasped on her sleeve as she continued, "Y-Yes, Lord Leon... you also worried us."
Her voice was gentle, her worry not concealed, and it hit a chord in Leon’s heart.
He let out a sigh and scratched the back of his neck, his expression sheepish. "I... lost track of ti. Sothing unexpected ca up." He placed the teacup down with a gentle clink. "I didn’t an to worry any of you."
Across the room, silent eyes watched.
Lira, with one leg crossed over the other in elegant fashion, watched with hardly concealed amusent. Standing next to her was Tsubaki, hands clasped modestly in front of her, although a faint smile curled on her lips. The five maids—Fey now by his side, with Mira, Mona, Rui, and Lena behind them—observed with subdued fascination.
They had watched him lead armies, stand firm in the presence of kings, reduce entire halls to silent awe with a word. And here, among won who adored him without fear, Leon seed almost like a boy, being reproved like a husband who had forgotten to send word ho.
A queer sweetness filled the mont.
Although they worked for him, although they idolized him—Duke, hero of war, master—although they could see perfectly well: he loved those won. Passionately. Desperately. In a manner that stirred even their own hearts.
If anyone else had attempted to order these won around, they would have been brought low before the command even left their mouth. But Leon? He bowed his head, apologized gently, and bore his guilt like a badge of honor.
It made them smile in ways they didn’t fully understand.
"At least let us know before you disappear like that again next ti, darling," Rias said, voice low, but no longer sharp. The sharpness had llowed into sothing affectionate.
Syra frowned over the couch, lips pouting slightly. "We would’ve waited if we knew."
Kyra nodded slightly to the side of her twin, and even Cynthia appeared to unwind.
Aria’s eyes sparkled with a wicked glint. "Fortunately," she folded her arms across her chest, "Lady Natasha told us you’d been called for so urgent task by the king. So we didn’t initiate a full-scale search party."
Rias grinned next to her, leaning an elbow on the armrest. "Otherwise, we might’ve tried breaking through the palace gates ourselves.
Leon blinked, but his face was still poised, though a flicker of shock ran through him. Assignnt? Assignnt to where? The king hadn’t dispatched him anywhere.
A stillness sharpness crept into his eyes as his mind sped behind a veil of serenity. Then, like a jigsaw piece clicking into place, comprehension struck—Natasha. She must have witnessed him disappear from the banquet... probably after Sona had departed. She’d lied—effortlessly and intentionally—to hide his absence.
That woman... to this day, her allegiance never faltered.
He ntally made a silent note: She needs a reward.
A small, knowing smile touched his lips, not for the discussion at hand, but for the woman who had once again acted ahead of him.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through his reverie.
"Darling?"
Leon turned his head a fraction, blinking as if coming out of a trance. He hadn’t even noticed all his wives were now gazing at him, their curious faces full of affection, confusion, and amusent.
He exhaled, then laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry... I guess I lost my way for a second there."
"Lost?" Cynthia questioned, inclining her head, one brow arching in refined questioning.
"Lost in a mont of beauty," Leon answered smoothly, letting his eyes wander slowly around the room. "Bla ? Who could possibly think straight after seeing such heavenly won all in one room?"
His statent roused a variety of responses. Aria slid out a low chuckle, elbowing Rias with her elbow.
"Smooth," she teased.
"Shaless," Syra remarked with a grin, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
Even quiet Kyra emitted a little huff of laughter behind her hand.
To his amazent, sweet quiet Mia gave a gentle smile and whispered, "But still charming."
Leon’s head swiveled in her direction. His golden eyes locked into hers, resting on her with gentle affection. He saw how she didn’t blink, not this ti. Her cheeks were flushed with pink, but her eyes remained steady. She’s transforming, he thought, delighted. Uncovering.
He smiled softly at her, a smile of gratitude. Tonight, he vowed to himself, he would carve out a peaceful mont—just for her.
I apologize," he said sincerely, sweeping his eyes over them all. "I didn’t an to alarm you."
Mia, who had been holding onto her skirt with a nervous touch, spoke at last. Her voice was low, but no longer hesitant. "We were just. worried. That’s all.
Leon faced her completely now, and what he saw caused sothing gentle to uncoil in his chest. Her dark eyes were steady, firm. She didn’t fall back into silence this ti.
"Thank you, Mia," he whispered.
Her lips quivered into a smile, and her ears turned visibly red.
Standing to the side, Lira observed the exchange in silence. A small, unidentifiable weight sat at her chest, sothing that felt strangely alien. Her fingers curled over the edge of her dress. She’s getting closer to him... The realization forced its way into her mind, and she felt a tightness in her throat. Am I. being left behind?
She let her eyes slide away before it could be seen—but soone did.
Rias, always observant, sensed the very slight flicker in her friend’s face. Her scarlet eyes went narrow, a flash of amusent dancing under her eyelashes before she leaned forward with a wicked smile.
"Left out, princess?" she taunted.
Lira tried to sound casual, throatily clearing it on a fake shrug. "Not at all, Rias."
But Leon’s golden eyes were already on her.
He’d noticed too.
His eyes stayed just a mont longer on Lira, contemplative, inscrutable—like he felt the soft flurry beneath her serenity. The other wives saw his glance too. But none of them spoke. Only the ripple of tension between them changed, as if sothing unsaid flowed between them all.
Lira’s eyes darted towards him—and for an instant, her silver-blue eyes t his. She did not blink.
Sothing silent flowed between them.
Then Rias shattered the mont. She stood up from the couch, one hand on her hip, the other sweeping behind her hair with dramatic gesture. Her eyes were flashing with a mischievous glint as she turned to Leon.
"Daddy," she said, stretching out the word, "I have sothing to say."
Leon leaned his head to one side, a single brow rising. "Go on."
The room fell into silence.
The air changed in a nearly imperceptible manner, as if everyone felt the brink of sothing approaching.
The wives looked between each other with small smirks. Whatever Rias had been hinting at previously, obviously, they all saw what she was going to do. Even Lira’s mouth curved slightly, as if awaiting the next line.
Rias’s mouth opened—
"Daddy prin—"
But the words didn’t leave it.
Before she could even complete, the world shifted.
The heat seeped from the air.
The frivolous atmosphere buckled underfoot like shattered glass.
A crushing weight descended on them all—weighty, heavy, irrefutable.
The lights dimd.
The mana in the air condensed, surrounding them like a sleeping snake uncoiling itself. It wasn’t an explosion. It was a tide—rolling through each wall, floor, and skeleton with monarchical authority.
Everyone stilled.
Leon’s body froze in an instant. His hand jerked at his side, instinct honed. He sensed it too. Sothing enormous... godlike. had fallen on them.
Then it arrived.
A voice.
Not heard, but felt.
Thunderous. Deep. Like a storm rumbling across the skies. It wasn’t sound—it was presence. And it vibrated directly into their souls.
"Duke Leon Moonwalker. Attend the Royal Court. At once, I call you."
Every word resonated, not through the air, but in them—unavoidable to ignore, unavoidable to defy.
Every one of them recognized that voice.
No questions were necessary.
Only a single man could speak throughout the kingdom without breath or interdiary and be heard in every heart like a sovereign edict.
The King.
Leon’s smile had disappeared.
His golden eyes snapped, pupils constricting into slits for a fleeting second. That voice. that command... it could be only him.
The King himself had summoned him personally.
And that never, ever happened lightly.
His jaw clenched. Behind the golden sheen of his eyes, thoughts spun swiftly. A direct command... Why now? What has changed?
Lira’s body went rigid, her breath catching.
Tsubaki straightened reflexively at her side, her hand touching the hilt of her sword.
Rias’s earlier frivolity vanished completely. Her lips parted, then snapped shut again. Aria’s violet eyes chilled with calculation. Cynthia’s face didn’t change, but her fingers flexed slightly at her side. The twins, Syra and Kyra, were calm—but even they flashed a mont of nervousness.
What does he want now, the devil?" Syra whispered to herself, suspicion edging her voice.
Slowly, Leon stood up, his tall, unyielding figure exuding an air of authority that seed ready to shatter at a mont’s notice. The robe over his shoulders fell back into place as he stepped forward.
His silence was deafening.
The gravity of the mont weighed heavily on each soul present in the room.
Even without words, they all understood: sothing was going to shift.
And the mont—interrupted as it was—had just started.
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