Supreme Spouse System.

The Queen Who Desired to Be Heard

And her eyes, however, said something entirely different: a combination of vulnerability, a weak glint of warmth, and something unsaid that neither of them was willing to say yet.

Leon noticed it all—the blush, the flash in her eyes—and a tiny, knowing smile crept at the edges of his mouth. He shook his head gently, as if impressed by the sudden tenderness between them.

It’s not the original Leon. he thought. Even I, who’ve inherited all of his memories and passion for her, can’t help but feel something too.

"And the way she stared at me just now. perhaps she has feelings for me as well."

He smiled, and stepping slowly toward her, his eyes softened. Sona remained with her back to him—maybe attempting to compose herself, to conceal the lingering flush on her cheeks—but he was still able to notice the way her shoulders ebbed and flowed with each breath, a little too rapid, a little too irregular.

Leon’s hand raised—not to her hair, not exactly—but to the slender butterfly-shaped hairpin, blue and shining like glass in sunlight, holding only precariously to the locks of her silver-white hair. It was slipping away.

His hand acted instinctively—slow, cautious—reaching towards the pin, catching it just before it dropped.

And when his fingers passed through her hair—she stopped in mid-air.

A fine shiver coursed through her before she spun on her heel, eyes wide, breath caught in her throat.

"L-Leon... w-what are you doing?" Sona spoke in a whisper, hardly steady. It was not trembling with fear, but with something gentler. Something warm and unsure.

Leon stopped, her response cracking a tiny, cautious smile on his face. Then, carefully, he raised his hand—holding the silver-blue butterfly hairpin that had slipped out of her head and now lay in the palm of his hand.

When Sona’s eyes traced the motion of his hand and caught sight of the dainty blue butterfly-shaped hairpin in his hand, she blinked, taken aback. Automatically, her fingers rose, patting the nape of her head—only to discover that the pin was missing.

Leon smiled softly at the adorable confusion on her face. "Relax," he replied with a casual smile. "I was saving your hairpin from falling, Sona."

Sona blinked, lips parting in slight surprise, caught off guard by the action, shocked by softness in his voice. —and more by her own response. Blushing, pink spreading across her face, embarrassment running into something much more complex.

Leon smiled once more, taking a step forward. Her heart pounded faster. He wasn’t hurrying but walking the distance with his usual laid-back ease. But she didn’t budge. She couldn’t.

He lifted his unoccupied hand and carefully pushed a stray silver-white strand of hair back behind her ear. The back of his fingers skimmed against her skin—warm, gentle. Taking his other hand, he re-clamped the pin back in place, pushing it securely back behind her hair.

The intimacy between them was wordless... but real.

Sona could see the fine lines of his face, the gentleness in his eyes. She could catch the understated, male fragrance he wore—sandalwood notes, delicate florals, something distinctive about him. Her breath caught.

It was simply them for a moment.

This intimate... after all those years.

Her throat constricted. He was closer than he’d been in years. Each time they ran into each other at banquets, in the court halls, or palace gardens, Leon had stood distant. Formal. Courteous. She’d said it to him more than once, "You don’t have to be so formal with me." But he’d never actually changed.

A corner of her had always wondered... always hoped —perhaps someday he would be like himself around her again and treat her as he used to. And today... here, in the garden’s quietness, where no eyes could see, it seemed that the world had granted her unspoken dream.

She yearned to cling to the moment, yet still... years of estrangement do not melt away in time. The heat in her chest was suffocating.

As Leon pins the pin in position, he pauses a second longer, their eyes locking. And then, with a soft smile, steps back—a little. Just enough that she can breathe.

Sona could feel the distance at once. A weird hollowness had formed in her chest, as if something was left too abruptly behind. She didn’t know why it hurt.

Leon picked up the glance in her eyes, but she quickly covered it. He smirked internally, but said nothing. Instead, he whispered gently:

"Sona."

She jerked up, caught off guard from her reverie. "Hm...? Y-yes?" Her voice barely passed her lips.

Leon smiled weakly. as he inclined his head. "A while back... when you spoke of the singing rose and the silent beauty who no one pays attention to—were you talking about yourself?"

Sona was frozen for a breath. Then, a low chuckle slipped from her lips. "Perhaps," she breathed.

Leon’s eyes gentled. "Is it. because of the king’s new secretary?" he asked, speaking softly, his eyes intent on hers.

She jerked, just a little—but enough that he noticed. He had hit the target.

She took a moment to collect herself, smiling at him with half her mouth. "How did you guess?"

"Sometimes I forget," she whispered to herself, "how good you are at reading what is not said."

Sona chuckled and turned aside for a moment, her voice subdued now. "I lost interest in his decisions a long time ago... who he has around him." Her voice lowered. "And yet. sometimes..."

She stopped. Then looked up into his eyes with a sorrowful, almost vulnerable smile.

"Because... Sometimes, Leon... I just want someone to hear me. Just listen. Not as a Queen. Not even as a mother. Not as a wife. Just as a woman. I have my daughter, yes—but even she doesn’t know everything I carry."

Leon’s lips parted. "Sona, I—"

But she smiled softly, silencing him before he could go on. "Don’t ask anything more, Leon. Please."

Their eyes met—hers blue, still, begging.

After a moment, Leon let the air out slowly. "Alright. As you wish, Sona."

She smiled—gently this time. "Thank you, Leon. For today... for hearing me. Now, I should go. My daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony tomorrow, and I have responsibilities—as a good mother, of course."

She faced away, steps silent against the stone, poised to leave.

But before she takes few steps, he called out after her.

"Sona... wait a moment."

She stopped.

Turned.

And the garden waited in suspense again