The mansion’s upper floor lay out in elegant quietness—long, royal, and immersed in silent grace.
Leon walked up the sweeping staircase with slow, deliberate strides, his boots thudding softly against the polished wood. At the second floor, the corridor welcomed him with a golden, flickering warmth. Magic lamps glowed softly along the walls, their light casting delicate halos of light that danced around the intricately decorated space.
Rich red carpet, intricately woven and edged with gold, unrolled down the middle of the hallway like a royal path laid out. On either side stood tall porcelain vases at frequent intervals, each filled with fresh flowers—lilies, moon-petals, and star-like flowers plucked from the mansion gardens.
Their fragrance remained faintly in the air, a delicate flower perfume that mixed with the stillness. Above, Small chandeliers dropped from the ceiling at each arch ceiling, their crystal drops catching the lamplight in flashes—like starlight caught in mid-fall.
On either side, gorgeous dark-oak doors separated the rooms of his wives, now vacant and closed, because none of them were present. At the end of the corridor was the largest door—double-winged, dark oak adorned with golden vines and a blooming lotus engraved at its center.
Leon strode toward it at a slow pace, his boots swishing against the carpet in an even beat, his black topcoat flowing behind him like a shadow. When he came to the end of the passageway, he let out a soft sigh and brought both hands up to swing the great chamber doors wide open—
But before Leon could shove open door, the door opened inward with a sudden yank from the inside and caught him halfway through his motion. He blinked, surprised—but too late to halt. His own momentum sent him on, crashing into a figure on the other side.
In a whirl of entwined limbs and awkward physics, the two fell inward together.
"Ah—!" A startled yelp reached his ears the instant his chest hit something warm.
They fell to the floor—Leon hard, not on cool marble, but down upon a warm, surprised body. Something soft was there. Someone.
For an instant, nothing stirred.
Leon’s eyes had instinctively closed during the fall, expecting the harsh shock of stone—but what he fell upon wasn’t cold marble. It was soft.
Extremely soft—warm, fragile, unmistakably female body.
The muffled scream of a girl still lingered faintly in his head. Underneath him, he could feel the soft pressure of a breast against his chest, the touch of silky hair curling around his arm.
He let out a slow breath. Then, his eyes started to come open.
Underneath him, stretched out on the carpet, was a young woman.
Her silky black locks had spilled like an ink pool on the floor, some strands stuck to her face. Her eyes were closed tightly, brows barely furrowed, and her soft, rose-colored lips slightly open in shock. Her skin, smooth and porcelain-like in the light of the chandelier, appeared to glow. Her heart-shaped face glowed pink in a delicate flush.
Leon’s breath ceased.
One of the quiet maids of the house—soft-spoken, gentle... and now lying under him in a very compromising position.
Leon caught himself staring. Just for a second. So close, she was a work of art. She seemed almost angelic—and very, very adorable.
A strand of hair stuck to her cheek. Without hesitation, Leon reached out and slowly smoothed it aside. His fingers brushed against the shape of her cheek—warm and soft under his touch.
Mira opened her eyes to the touch. She lay there for an instant, dazed and confused, wondering where she was—before the memory hit. She had stumbled when the door burst open, caught off guard by the shove. Her eyes had closed in reflex, but now his soft fingers had awakened her.
The first thing she noticed was a pair of golden eyes—glowing, warm, and impossibly near.
That face. the jagged jawline, chiseled cheekbones, refined nose, and beautifully contoured brows. And then—that smile. The very same compelling smile she had longingly fantasized about.
The man who had begun featuring in her dreams over the last several nights.
Her heart missed a beat.
"L-Lord Leon..." she wishper in heart as she identifying the figure over her.
Leon, too, was equally shocked. Those eyes—dark, wide, and shiny with the residue of fear—grasped at some unvoiced place within him. For one second, all was stilled.
Time forgot how to pass.
For an instant, they stayed like that — golden eyes and midnight eyes suspended in soft tension, a thousand unspoken things exchanged in the silence between them. Then Leon’s weight shifted slightly against hers, warm and irrevocable, and that was enough to jar the world back into action.
Mira’s breath caught. Heat rushed to her face as the softness of her body pressed under the solid warmth of his. Embarrassment bloomed like wildfire in her chest.
Her heart thudded wildly.
"L-Lo... Lord...?" she whispered, barely able to find her voice.
Leon blinked, drawn out of his daze by her trembling voice. "Hmm?" he murmured.
Mira averted her eyes, her voice barely a whisper and trembled. "Y-you’re still... o-on top of me..."
Leon’s face changed to one of surprise, then, catching sight of where they were, a flush of embarrassment crept over his features. "Ah—sorry!"
He got up hastily, then held out his hand. Mira hesitated, stunned, and he lifted her to her feet. Her legs trembled a bit, but she remained standing. The instant her soles made contact with the marble once more, she could still sense the residual heat of his body, now only a step away.
"I did not mean to fall on you," Leon replied, his tone soft with a hint of laughter. "You opened the door from the inside at the exact moment I pushed it from the outside. Very. bad timing."
"N-no, no, it’s my fault, Lord," Mira spoke out rashly, dropping her head. "I opened it too fast... I—I apologize! I should have been more cautious—I did not expect anyone to—"
Leon chuckled as she stammered.
"Nevertheless, I should have been careful as well. No need to apologize, then," he said, cocking his head to one side with a little, crooked smile. "We’re even, okay?"
She blinked, discomfited. "Even...?"
She had never heard a lord apologize to a maid. Ever, in her whole life.
The man in front of her was strong—possibly even deadly—but his smile was so weakening, and his words contained not an iota of pride.
Mira gazed up at him, her heart pounding in a manner she couldn’t understand. No lord, no noble, had ever treated a humble servant in this manner—kindly, respectfully. It was unreal—like a dream.
A strange warmth spread quietly in her chest.
Leon looked at her with quiet amusement, then relaxed his tone, softening the subject, "By the way, Mira. what were you doing here?
Her eyes fell demurely to the floor. "I—I was come to clean your room, my lord."
Leon looked around. The room was tidy. The bedsheets had been changed with neat precision, their soft folds crisply tucked in. A vase by the window contained a fresh arrangement of flowers, a splash of color against the sun golden light entering from window. A quiet floral fragrance lingered in the air, fresh and soothing.
All shone with unobtrusive care—polished, set out, and ready with thoughtful attention.
He swung round to her again, smiling.
"It’s perfect. Thank you, Mira."
Mira shook her head hastily, hands fluttering nervously.
"P-please don’t thank me, my Lord. It’s my job. I simply did what’s required..."
But Leon gave a soft nod, his smile easy and warm.
"Then you’ve done it well."
That smile—it brightened his face. Charming, soft, and in some way personal.
Mira’s heart skipped a beat. A flutter of her chest surprised her. Her cheeks flushed, the color spreading with haste as she dropped her eyes, blushing. She held on to the corner of her apron, suddenly becoming shy under his watchful eyes.
A gentle silence fell between them—a little too awkward. Leon and Mira remained speechless.
Leon, still looking at her, smiled faintly. There was something soft in his eyes, amused yet gentle, as if he didn’t mind the pause at all.
Mira, clearly still flustered, couldn’t take the silence any longer. She gave a quick bow. "If you’ll e-excuse me, my lord," she stammered. "My work here is finished—I’ll head downstairs to help the others prepare dinner."
Leon felt she wanted out—maybe because she didn’t want to be in this embarrassing moment any longer. He didn’t hinder her.
She bowed once more, then spun on her heel to make a swift departure, her footsteps almost running. In her haste, she stumbled over her own feet, her face still rosy pink. Her black hair flowed behind her like a ribbon as she vanished into the hallway.
Leon released a soft laugh at her accidents, rubbing the back of his neck.
"One mishap after another since I came back home to this mansion," he breathed. "What a lovely coincidence today proved to be."
Smiling to himself still, he entered and quietly shut the door behind him. He then turned and unbuttoned his collar, strolling across the chamber to the private bath at the far end, the sweet aroma of jasmine still floating in the air behind him.