The sun had fully risen now.
Its golden glow bathed the entire capital of Moonspire in warm brilliance, casting long, soft shadows across the white marble streets and gilded rooftops. Rays of morning light spilled over the royal palace walls like liquid gold, illuminating every part of the grand structure. Within its vast grounds, nestled amidst trimmed bushes and silent fountains, stood the spacious guest mansion where Leon and his wives resided for the grand event.
This palace, a majestic combination of beauty and power, stood tall with high pillars, expansive balconies, and intricate stone engravings. Outside, the garden was in full bloom with dew-kissed new flowers whose colors were brightened by the early light of morning.
Life inside was also beginning to stir.
The large dining room was softly alive with soft footsteps, the muted ring of ceramic, and the soft rustle of uniforms. There were five women—five women, each lovely in her own unique way—who glided with precision as they arranged the breakfast table.
Fey went ahead, the head maid for the duration of Leon’s visit. Her quiet black eyes radiated authority, and her straight black hair reached down to her shoulders, shining in the morning light. Her body was impossible to ignore—her small maid uniform hugged her full bust, and her muscular thighs and rounded hips swept forward in a fluid, natural motion. Her pointed cheekbones bracketed a knowing smile, attesting to a balance of class and self-control.
Beside her, Mira wore a softer face but was equally mesmerizing. She smiled softly as she set the cutlery, her placid black eyes unwavering. She had a plumper body, with broad hips and a playful rhythm to her step. And her blouse teetered at every breath to spill open.
Lena held the flower arrangements gently. Her heart-shaped face and shiny black hair pulled back into twin tails created a cute appearance, but her body screamed otherwise—wide hips, powerful thighs, and a bust bursting out of her blouse. While her face remained serene, her physique was anything but normal.
Rui and Mona were the youngest maids but equally as captivating. Both sported sleek black hair and lean but curvy figures that could not be ignored. Rui was athletic and darted from task to task, her keen eyes watchful and her firm figure defined beneath her garments. Mona, the youngest of them all, sang softly while polishing dishes, her bright eyes and happy naivety equal to the fullness of her figure.
They all sported similar striking features—black hair that shone, deep black eyes, and luminous skin. Although they were maids, they were so rare in their beauty that they might have been taken for noble daughters.
They walked soundlessly and precisely, setting out silverware, straightening plates, and placing fresh white lilies in crystal glasses. The room was filled with the soft aroma of spiced bread and honey tea sweetness.
Then came the soft tread of footsteps close by.
From the great staircase at the hall’s far end, a figure started to descend—step by step, slowly, with a quiet authority. Her silky purple hair cascaded down her back, catching the morning sun. Her bright purple eyes glowed softly in the sun. She had on a beautiful white and lavender gown, woven with silver threads that glimmered with every movement. A dainty purple-and-white hairpin kept her hair back, while delicate gold bracelets encircled her thin wrists. Although her adornments were plain, her presence was rich in elegance.
Aria, Leon’s second wife, sported a lovely, delicate smile that brightened her face.
She was followed by Cynthia, who gracefully stepped down in quiet confidence herself, no less beautiful. Her white and royal blue ball gown was adorned with golden lace patterns that caught the light. Her dark midnight-black hair shone, complemented by the sapphire-blue sparkle of a hairpin. Dainty golden bracelets encircled her wrists as her calm demeanor and observant eyes swept across the room.
Following them were Syra and Kyra, twin sisters who contrasted their beauty. Syra had a brilliant golden gown to match the golden hairpin that rested in her lengthy green hair. Her bracelets softly jingled as she mincingly strolled. To her side was Kyra, who glided in a rich forest-green gown that complemented her own fair skin perfectly. She had a forest-green lotus pin secure in her hair and her serene eyes radiating warmly as she trailed behind.
The four women came into the living room like gods from heaven descending upon the clouds.
When they approached the dining area, Fey and the rest of the maids immediately faced them, lowered their heads, and addressed them as a whole, "Good morning, Lady Aria, Lady Cynthia, Lady Syra, and Lady Kyra."
Fey’s ringing voice initiated the greeting, and the rest of the maids followed, repeating her phrase in one whole harmony.
Aria smiled and, in her soft, peaceful voice, said, "Good morning to you all." She said it on behalf of the others too. Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra just nodded their heads with friendly smiles in return.
Fey and the rest of the maids then lifted their heads respectfully, and Aria, Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra sat at the table.
The four women sat down around the extended dining table, with the head chair and the one directly to its right remaining unoccupied—reserved without fail for Leon and his first wife, Rias.
Syra glanced toward the empty space and grinned playfully, resting her chin on her hand. "Seems like our darling and big sister Rias had a very heavy and intense night. They still look like they’re recovering from it."
Aria let out soft chuckle. "Honestly, that doesn’t surprise me at all."
Cynthia smiled knowingly, her eyes twinkling. Kyra, more courageous than after since her first night with Leon, still blushed slightly at this type of conversation. She wasn’t quite accustomed to such frank talk, her fingers nervously stroking her cheek.
"I have a thought," Cynthia suggested with a soft smile, looking at the others. "Let’s go wake them up in their bedrooms. We could all have breakfast together... and perhaps a little fun afterwards."
Syra’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Now you’re talking my language —A hot, naughty morning with our darling after breakfast—sounds absolutely perfect!"
The women shared warm, knowing glances, a spark of mischief and playful desire danced in their eyes.
Aria’s head leaned to one side, she smiled "I like that. Sister Cynthia, Sister Syra—you two always have the best ideas. Let’s do it."
But before the four women could rise from their chairs, the soft sound of another pair of footsteps creaked down the sweeping staircase.
Their eyes went directly to the source, observing as a new person descended in lithe ease. She was clad in a red flowing gown that clung to every inch with dignified flair. Her hair, a river of red silk, waved with gentle strands. Nestled in her locks was a red-and-white lotus pin, and her crimson eyes blazed softly in the sunlight. Her heart-shaped face was rosy-lipped, with skin aglow as if touched by morning’s own light.
Rias—Leon’s first wife, his daughter, and the woman whom he had fallen in love with before everyone else.