Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 242: The Summoning That Shook the Mansion

Chapter 242: The Summoning That Shook the Mansion

The Summoning That Shook the Mansion

Silence fell as the voice resonated through the elegant living room and beyond:

"Duke Leon Moonwalker. To the Royal Court. At once, I summon you."

The king’s voice boomed through the mansion—not borne by messenger, nor inscribed in scroll—but flung directly by his own will, unfiltered and authoritative. It resonated through the marble floors, ascended the lofty arched walls covered in silk, and lingered like silent thunder over the room.

Time stood still.

Laughter was cut off in throats.

The dainty chime of porcelain came to rest in mid-motion.

Even the quivering candlelight appeared to catch its breath.

All looked in the direction of the noise—faces white, bodies tense—as if seized by a cold shiver. The mood changed in a flash, happiness engulfed by a dense, invisible presence.

Slowly, Leon stood from his couch. A foot lingered, as though his body had not yet reached the instant. His cloak with its golden trim billowed softly behind him, and the hem of his dark cloak shook in response to the harsh stillness that served as the summons’ aftereffect. He uttered nothing, but his jaw clenched infinitesimally.

The air itself was altered. Heavy with tension, it snapped like a stormy sky.

Moments before, the living room had been radiating warmth and comfort. Rias had been bunched up on the lounge, humming softly to herself. Syra and Mia were caught up in a lighthearted game at the tea table, while Cynthia read from a novel aloud, her voice singing like music. Kyra and Aria traded good-natured jibes over who brewed better tea, and the maids, smiling and happy, flitted about carrying trays of cake and warm towels.

Now, none of that was left. The king’s voice seemed to have drained the room of color.

Each woman in the room had frozen: Rias, Cynthia, Aria, Syra, Kyra, Mia, Lira, Tsubaki... even the maids were motionless, their gazes fixed on Leon. The unease was palpable, yet subtle.

Lira took the lead. With measured elegance, she stood up from her velvet-upholstered chair. Her silver-white hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, shimmering in the light of the golden chandelier. Her cool blue eyes narrowed, and she gazed off into the distance where the voice had issued from.

"This isn’t like him," she spoke in slow voice tinged with worry. "Father only speaks by projection unless..."

.the kingdom is at risk," Tsubaki concluded softly, her voice low but unshakeable. No tremor entered her voice—just a quiet confidence that made the gravity of her words land more deeply than ever could panic.

Aria edged forward, her own posture still refined but her gaze intensifying with purpose. "Or when the royal family itself is under threat," she supplemented, her tone calm but laced.

A heavy silence fell. No one spoke. They didn’t have to. The implication hung squarely between them, bearing down on them like an impending storm.

Not even Rias, ever with a ready jest, was snappy. Her merry smile was gone, replaced by a stillness that was unusual. "So. this isn’t merely an informal invitation," she said, voice low.

The maids around her, outwardly calm, seemed strained. They were no ordinary servants—each specially chosen, trained in elegance and tact, yes, but loyalty. Most came from noble families and had held respected places previously before dedicating themselves to Leon. And of them, Aria—his former head maid, now second wife—knew best what this moment meant.

Leon exhaled slowly. His fingers, relaxed a second ago, curled briefly at his sides. "You’re right," he admitted, his voice calm but firm.

He turned his gaze from one woman to the next, lingering on Lira, whose puzzled expression was slowly giving way to quiet concern.

"I’ll go," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "I’ll deal with the king and find out what’s happening. There’s no reason any of you should have to worry."

They did not protest. Every one of them nodded silently in agreement. They knew how to know when to keep back, and this was the sort of occasion.

He offered a weak smile, attempting to clear the gloom that had come to rest in the room. His tone became slightly lighter. "Stay warm—fill this room with laughter, yes? When I return, we’ll continue as if no time has passed."

Some of them returned small smiles, the atmosphere starting to lighten.

"Now," he said with a look at the hot cups on the table, "you all go back to your tea before it goes cold. When I get back, we’ll enjoy our time appropriately. Hmph?"

That at last broke the silence. Several of them smiled quietly, tension released. The air, although still tinged with concern, started to thaw once more.

It was Rias who first allowed herself a natural laugh, a light, teasing sound, although the concern had not yet faded from her eyes.

Leon’s footsteps ceased. His face softened. "Thank you, sweetheart. Take care, you all too."

He would have walked away, but he paused next to Aria, Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra. His gaze darted to their wrists—each with a plain bracelet. To anyone else, they resembled commonplace jewelry. But in each was concealed power—a safety net for use in times of genuine peril.

Their gazes met his, and nothing needed to be said.

They understood.

If something went beyond diplomacy—if steel had to be drawn or lives be protected—the bracelets would come off. Their true power, hidden until now, would be released.

All of them nodded the slightest bit.

And maybe without even knowing it, each one’s hand crept just a little closer to the bracelet on her wrist.

Leon walked away finally, for the door.

Just as he did, Rias spoke out behind him, her voice surprisingly gentle.

"Daddy... take care."

He paused.

Glancing back over his shoulder without turning completely, he gave a warm, firm smile that expressed both affection and assurance.

"Thank you, honey. You all have fun. I’ll see you soon."

And with it, he moved out of the living room. His greatcoat billowed behind him, golden thread glinting in the light as he walked. Every step was purposeful, unhurried. Back in the room, laughter and heat dissipated, leaving only silence again.

Outside, the world remained unchanged.

Birds continued to sing in the distance, their songs weaving through summer air. Guards patrolled along their regular beats with practiced rhythm. The flowers of the mansion still bloomed—vivid colors, haughty against stone walls.

But when Leon drew nearer to the central palace, change started to show itself.

At first, just suggestions—faint changes in mood. A few nobles wandered in the same general direction, feet quick, faces tight with worry. A single extra guard at a gate. A group of viscount-level nobles murmuring to one another, robes flowing behind them as they strode with intent.

Then there were more of them.

Barons, counts, and lords—some wearing hastily donned formal attire, others in court finery, but none in celebratory garb. Some accompanied by private retinue, some by battle armor—scarred breastplates and crested pauldrons revealing their military heritage. These were no empty nobles called for show. They arrived because something momentous had stirred the kingdom’s heart.

Every one of the men who had gone past Leon bowed to him. Some made low bows, others stiffly inclined heads. None of them spoke, however. The gravity of the summons hung over them like a storm cloud.

Leon, as unreadable as ever, nodded briefly in response. His stance was upright, stride measured, his cloak flapping lightly down his back behind him in the morning wind.

This is not concerning me alone, he gritted. The king would not call in half the titled court for my sake.

He arrived at the enormous main gate of the central palace—and was immediately struck by the contrast.

Where before the entrance had been closely guarded, with scroll checks and names called aloud, the security now had been virtually abandoned. Nobody demanded credentials. No questions. No hesitations. The whole noble throng was being pushed through without obstructions.

Leon couldn’t prevent a dry grin creeping past his lips.

Half an hour ago, I was sneaking out of this place. and now I’m strolling back in—right alongside half the kingdom.

The irony was bitter in his mouth.

He passed the gates and entered the heart palace, walking along the royal road leading to the center of the court. The smooth stone under his boots shone with the light of morning. His thoughts, however, were not at peace.

Why summon everyone now? he thought. Is this related to what Natasha shared with me? The Vellore strike? But that was not supposed to be a week from now.

The timing was wrong.

Something else was going on.

Something unexpected.

The Royal Court Hall towered before them—towers tall proud against the horizon, banners streaming high above in biting blue and silver. The front glimmered in white marble, gold-veined, and fine carvings of drakes, lilies, and the royal seal on its massive frame. Power, legacy, and the burden of history spoke from every inch.

At the foot of the sweeping staircase stood two lines of royal guards—jet-black ceremonial armor, spear held upright, helmet shining like a mirror. Leon moved between them, and their movements were synchronized and in unison. They dipped their heads ever so slightly in a synchronized bow.

"Greeting, Duke Lord Moonwalker," they spoke in perfect unison.

Leon gave a brief nod, maintaining his stride.

His boots drummed gently against the marble stairs, every step ringing into the spreading silence that ringed the court. Even as the crowd thickened, there had been a curious quiet—a unspoken tension.

He climbed the last of the stairs and stepped into the entrance hall.

It was grand.

A rich blue carpet ran from the door to the opposite end, surrounded by tall white columns intricately carved with images of the founding of the kingdom. Delicate crystal chandeliers dangled from the arched ceiling, casting refracted sunlight into faint patterns on the gleaming floors. This air was thick, hallowed. This was no mere hallway—this was the path to power.

And at the very end... loomed the double doors of the Royal Court.

Thick. Silent. Closed.

On the other side of them was the king.

And whatever reason had brought the nobles of the Moonstone Kingdom here, without warning, under the same roof.

Leon breathed out, slow and steady.

He raised his hand.

And then, he opened the door.