Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 142: Royal Garden.

Royal Garden.

As Leon emerged from the imposing palace gates, a refreshing afternoon wind caressed his cheek while the sun, now tilting west, bathed the marble steps in golden light. The glazed stone walls of the great palace behind him glowed gently in its warmth. He stopped just beyond the last threshold, drawing a long, full breath.

The oppressive stillness of the royal study, the King’s hard, observant eyes, and the crushing burden of unspoken expectation—all seem to slide off Leon’s shoulders as soon as he got outside. The air is lighter now — nearly purifying, with a touch of the tangy smell of sheared hedges and far-off blooms carried in on the gardens’ wind.

For a moment, he just stood there. Then, taking a deep breath, Leon turned ever so slightly and gave one final glance back at the large palace behind him. Its imposing spires and immaculate marble shone in the light—unmoving, silent, and stoic.

Then, his mouth curled up ever so slightly.

He didn’t have to say a word—his quiet smile said it all. Steady, firm, and unshakeable.

Then, silently, he turned and walked. With every step, there fell the soft slap upon the stone path, measured and deliberate. About him, silence spread—calm, but charged with the quiet knowledge that clung in the air.

Soon after, he arrived at a familiar crossroad.

To the right: a softly curved avenue which would escort him out of the central palace grounds, toward the guest manor in the outer palace district.

To the left: the lavish stone pathway which led to the Royal Court—no doubt still abuzz with ministers and nobles at this time.

And straight ahead... a peaceful path bordered by blooming trees and dense hedges, into the tranquil interior of the Royal Garden.

He slowed, glancing towards the right—the road leading home. A fleeting desire flashed in his mind: to turn back, perhaps rest or read something in his study.

Leon stopped.

His gaze wandered onto the silent path—the one that wandered in the direction of the outer palace, to the stillness of his assigned mansion. Peaceful, comfortable... but uninteresting.

He let out a quiet breath. "If I return now... then what?" he whispered to himself.

Rias and the others remained with the princess, keeping busy assisting in preparations for the ceremony tomorrow. The mansion would be empty, therefore—silent. Lifeless. And what about him? If he returned now, he’d be a ghost haunting empty halls alone—just another lazy duke lost in vacancy.

For a moment, Nova’s face crossed his mind—her smile, her confident stride, the flash of heat and humor in her eyes.

But he emitted a soft hum and shook his head. "She’s probably too busy with her Duchess affairs and all..." His voice dropped softly off.

And for the moment, he wasn’t in the mood to duel. Or flirt. Not today.

And as to forging—or cultivating—their connection. he wasn’t in a hurry.

Something," he grumbled to himself again, a thin smile twisting his lips again, "takes time to get to its best flavor. Such as a slow-cooked meal—rich and full of meaning."

His words disappeared into the air surrounding him as thenhe approached the forked path once more—torn, not lost.

He looked to the left, in the direction of the royal court. A dead end for him at the moment; he had already spoken with the King, and there was no business to conduct there.

At last, his eyes came to rest directly ahead, where the path widened into soft, golden light. Hedges of trim greenery bordered the entrance to the royal garden, warm and inviting.

A small smile returned to his lips.

I’ve got nothing to do... might as well spend some time there.

A hazy, vivid memory flitted across his mind—one from the past Leon’s memories. How he had gone to the royal garden so many times whenever he visited the capital. The garden: spacious, serene, lovely, with a ambiance that calmed the soul. Each time this Leon saw the garden in patch of memories, he had wished to stroll along its paths, to really relish its serenity—but hitherto, he never got the opportunity.

"Well then," Leon murmured under his breath, his voice light and amused, "since I’m finally free... why not enjoy the view?"

A quiet chuckle escaped as he tucked his hands behind his back. "I’ve nowhere else to go... Why not enjoy a bit of beauty and peace?"

With that in mind, he took the direct path to the royal garden. Hands in pockets and a calm lassitude to his stride, Leon moved ahead—dazzled by sunlight, curiosity, and the hope of a moment of peace.

Leon’s boots strode in measured rhythm along the smooth stone road, the quiet tap of each pace decreasing as the palace he left grew out of sight. The imposing spires and marble columns disappeared gradually, giving way to the susurrus of leaves rustling in the wind and the gentle promise of peace that beckoned ahead.

The instant Leon set foot on the garden path, a gentle wind welcomed him—bearing with it a light, floral scent that enveloped both the air and his senses like a promise. It was warm, delicate, and sweet, with no one flower dominating the others. Simply a dainty combination of jasmine, roses in bloom, and the rich warmth of sun-kissed petals.

It stayed softly, resting in his chest like a soothing breath.

He eased his pace without thinking, his boots a softer thud on the stone as he took it in. The scent of the garden wasn’t boisterous or flashy—it was quiet, like the type of scent that lingers on someone you want to remember.

Leon took a deep breath, closing his eyes for an instant.

"...That smells good," he whispered, the words escaping under his breath.

For a moment, he just stood there, allowing the serenity of the garden to envelop him.

Then, with that same gentle smile, he walked forward again, further into the quiet.

As he strolled further, the stone walkway made a gentle turn between garden, bounded on either side by low, pruned bushed. Small garden plots started to materialize—clumps of colorful flowers among creased bushes and chiseled ornamental stones. The royal garden gradually spread out before him like a living painting.

Fountains were situated all around, each a variation in size and shape—some graceful and high, adorned with carved images of winged creatures grasping pitchers of running water, and others wide stone pools with crystalline brooks streaming from elaborate fountains. The trill of running water mingled with the songs of birds and the rustle of the breeze to create a melody of soothing music.

Here and there, stone benches were carved out under the shade of ancient trees whose heavy branches curved above. Pavilions with domed tops and silk drapes provided spots to rest, or talk. Vines heavy with blossoms climbed the pillars of the garden buildings, gently swaying in the breeze. It was a space created for something more than its beauty—it was intended for serenity.

Leon strolled slowly, steps reluctant, his eyes roving with subdued pleasure. The garden teemed with life—white lilies danced alongside clumps of Moonshade blooms, their petals glinting softly under the fading sky. Sunfire daffodils sparkled in bursts of gold, and shade-touched Nyrelle flowers curved gently in the shadows, sleeping until twilight. Ancient starwillow trees loomed overhead like sentinels, their silver-veined leaves distributing mottled light on the cobbled walkway.

As he walked around the soft bend in the path, he saw another fountain—bigger, more elegant, like something that had been set to top off the center of the garden. Water poured in ribbons from a silver statue of embracing wings, catching the air with a lyrical hum that resonated like gentle music. At its foundation, rings of roses unfurled in gentle symmetry: white as snowdrift, delicate as dawn-pink, crimson-deep as blood, and the once-in-a-lifetime violet stardusk roses—petals softly glowing, kissed by moonlight. But it was not the roses that held Leon’s attention.

It was the single individual standing by the fountain.