Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 261: The Queen, The Spy, and The Man Between [Part-2]

Chapter 261: The Queen, The Spy, and The Man Between [Part-2]

The Queen, The Spy, and The Man Between [Part-2]

"...Why did you bring her?"

Sona’s voice whispered softly, tinged with doubt. She wasn’t mad—merely uncertain. Her eyes darted between Leon and the woman standing next to him—Natasha—whose presence even now roused tension in her breast.

Leon stood his ground, his eyes remaining calm, his voice subdued but firm. A small, reassuring smile played on his lips—one that always managed to ease her fears.

"I brought her because I trust her," he told her softly. "And I want you to trust her too. Not for me... but for yourself."

Sona blinked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as he took a step or two closer.

"If anything goes wrong while I’m away... if Vellore makes a move—I need someone at your side who won’t even think about not keeping you safe. Someone who’ll fight for you like I would."

His words fell into the room like a solemn vow.

The words struck her harder than she had anticipated.

Sona glanced away for a moment, thoughts crossing her face. The thought still unnerved her—but it wasn’t about Natasha. It was about faith... and fear. About the threat closing in with every passing day.

Sona’s chest moved with a soft breath. Her heart stirred—softly, agonizingly. He had planned so far ahead, even in preparing for war... even knowing she couldn’t stand openly by him. She pressed her lip against her teeth, her voice catching on something like wonder.

"You planned all this... for me?"

She said no more, but the soft light in her eyes expressed everything. The manner in which she regarded him, the way her fingers brushed against the edge of her sleeve—as if anchoring herself to the present moment—spoke volumes.

But there was one thing she could not get over.

She cocked her head, green eyes narrowing a fraction as she regarded Natasha. There was no anger in them, only interest—seated with the soft suspicion of a female attempting to see something through another.

Then... why do you want to assist Leon?" Sona ventured. "As he explained... you were a spy for Vellore to guard your sister. If indeed you wanted protection or power, you could have seduced the King and gained his favor. Why him?"

Natasha’s smirk relaxed once, her black eyes darting toward Leon.

A half-amused sigh slipped past her lips. "I did think about that," she confessed. "But that king..." She gave a tiny scoffing shake of her head. "He’s a fool. Entitled, shortsighted... and really, not worth the perfume."

Sona widened her eyes at the candor.

Natasha refocused on her, shrugging as if it was no concern—but her next statement was slower, more considered.

"But only when I met Leon...". She was under her breath now, "I fell. Hard. For his charm. Deadly charm, actually.". Her smile was sharp again, but there was some warmth underlying it. "And then he enslaved me."

Leon groaned in the background, but she held up a hand as if she were recounting an old tale at a tavern.

"And now? I remain because we all desire the same thing.".

She looked at Sona, then at Leon, a unusual sincerity in her tone.

"To witness the King topple. Both Vellore and Moonstone better than that. And we have already a new king before us now—do we not, Lady Sona?"

Natasha’s words hung in the air like scent that has not yet faded, heavy with multiple meanings.

Leon did not reply at once. He merely arched an eyebrow, his face inscrutable—yet the glint of amusement dancing in his golden eyes betrayed him. For once, he could not help himself. Natasha was cleverer than most credited her with being.

Sona’s lips twisted into a small, knowing smile. "You are correct... Lady Natasha."

That one response, measured and considered, carried greater authority than any royal edict.

Natasha’s smile broadened. Her head cocked slightly so that a few dark hairs fell over her cheek, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"And to ensure he—" she moved her hand lightly toward Leon with a teasing flick of her fingers "—lives long enough to get it done.

Silence ensued, but it was not empty. It was filled with unspoken realities and changing allegiances, a silence that fell deep into the marrow of the bones. The candle flame danced between them, casting long shadows on stone walls. War threatened on the horizon, but in this tiny room, only one reality was true—their pact was no longer an ephemeral notion, but something real and tangible.

Finally, Sona exhaled, softly but heavily—like something long-repressed had at last relaxed in her. Her grip tightened about Leon’s fingers, as if she drew strength from his being. Her gaze, steady and soft, met his—not Natasha’s—as she spoke, her voice imbued with quiet weight of conviction.

Sona looked away for an instant, the flash of doubt dancing across her face. The idea still bothered her. But it wasn’t Natasha alone. It was more than that—trust, fear, the insidious possibility that it all came apart at the seams.

When she met Leon’s eyes once more, something in them had altered. There was no flat-out approval in their depths—but something had changed. A quiet understanding flowed between them, the sort that did not require a word.

And when she met his steady, unwavering stare—so full of calm, of belief—she found the answer she’d been searching for.

"So now... I’ll trust you. Because Leon does."

Natasha’s gaze lingered on Sona a moment longer before she gave a slight, approving nod. There was a flicker of something behind her smirk—not mockery, but respect.

"Smart woman," she said smoothly. "You’ll need that sharpness when the real game begins."

Leon let out a gentle breath, the edges of his mouth refining into a subtle smile. His gold eyes danced between the two women, amused as they were.

"That went better than I expected."

Natasha laughed, pushing a lock of black hair behind her shoulder with carefree ease.

"Of course it did. I’m irresistible."

Not waiting for an answer, she swung around to Leon, her stance angling into a drama queen half-bow, one hand slung across her chest. "And now, my work here is accomplished, my lord. I shall be going." Leon observed her mini-skit with that same relaxed tranquility. She could be infuriating—but never boring. "Go on, then, Natasha," he told her, his voice tinged with amusement.

She turned on her heel with a flick of her skirt and marched toward the door, her boots thudding softly against the rich rug. But just as she reached the door, she hesitated—because of course she did. A quick flicker of mischief in her tone led her to call back over her shoulder:

"Now then... I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your evening. Don’t make too much noise—walls echo in this palace."

Sona’s whole face flushed a deep red. "W-What!"

But before she could shoot back, Natasha disappeared in a flash of shadow, melting into the corridor like smoke, the door closing softly behind her. She was gone—nearly as if she never existed in the first place.

Leon’s low laugh filled the silence. "She doesn’t hold back, does she?"

Sona, still flushed, pressed her palm against her cheek and glared at the now-empty doorway. "She’s the worst," she grumbled, but the animosity in her voice lessened almost at once.

Her eyes came back to him, and in their look was something subdued... something gentle. Her fury dissipated into warmth, into the pain of separation that hung unspoken between them.

"I’m glad you came," she breathed.

Leon raised a hand, stroking his thumb over her cheek. "I would have regretted it every day if I hadn’t."

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was filled. Filled with all the things they’d never said, all the things they might never have the chance to. War loomed on the horizon. The world beyond was already shifting. But here, in the warm golden light of the room, it didn’t matter.

Here, they weren’t Queen and Duke. Just Leon and Sona.

He bent down and kissed her forehead, his lips staying an extra second more than was necessary.

"Let’s make what time we have... ours."

And while the dance of candlelight flickered against the stone walls, the two of them approached one another, closing off the threatening fear outside the palace. For a single evening, they submitted to each other—two hearts grasping closely in the peaceful before the tempest.