Supreme Spouse System.

Queen Sona [Part -2]

Leon stepped quietly into the heart of the palace garden. The stone under his boots felt cool, and the air was tinged with roses and fresh earth. Leaves rustled gently above, and the soft murmur of a nearby fountain colored the silence with peace.

And there—just ahead, standing alone near a blooming rose bush—was Queen Sona.

Her back remained to him, silver-white hair cascading down like wisps of moonlight, reflecting softly with the pinkish hue of evening. A hand stroked the bloom of a rose, fingers tracing as if to learn the shape of it. She appeared peaceful... but unresponsive. Unresponsive in a manner that had Leon freezing in his step.

She hadn’t felt him.

That itself seemed out of place.

He squinted a little, watching her at short range. For all her royal elegance and dignified aura, Sona wasn’t merely an ornamental queen —she was a Grandmaster Realm cultivator. Not nearly as strong as him, but still no pushover. And powerful enough that even the slightest agitation in her environment should have registered.

Sneaking up on a person at that level?

Almost impossible.

Unless... they had let her. Or simply been too engrossed in thought to pay attention.

And yet, she hadn’t moved. Hadn’t breathed. Hadn’t responded.

Leon’s eyes narrowed fractionally. If she had felt him and let him this close, she would’ve done something to him when he got close to her. A look, a word, some faint passing glance of awareness. But there was nothing.

So it had to be the other option.

She was preoccupied—deeply. Distracted in a way that did not fit the Sona of his memory.

And that was what tugged at his interest.

Of the fragmentary memories passed down through the first Leon, he remembered her as fearless. Vivacious. The type of woman who wore her heart like sunlight—open and bright, unwilling to hide in dark brooding. She resented thinking too much, had always been one to react first and think afterward.

But there she stood. still, far away.

It disturbed something in him.

What could trouble her so deeply. seriously that she wouldn’t even sense his arrival?

He waited a breath, then quietly cleared his throat. Just enough to disturb the silence.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," he said, voice calm, formally warm.

His words rippled through the garden like a pebble dropped in still water.

The result was immediate.

Sona startled.

Not with a start, not dramatically—but with a soft breath, a shift in her shoulders, like someone waking slowly. Her hand paused above the rose, and she turned toward the sound, eyes clouded with surprise and quiet confusion.

Her eyes locked with his.

And in that instant—blue against gold—the world fell silent around them.

Leon stood stock-still.

He had caught glimpses of her through someone else’s memories, but those had been hazy, faded depictions smudged by time and yearning. Nothing—nothing—had readied him for the truth of her.

Sona. She posed under the light of morning like a vision stepped out of a dream.

5’8 feet tall, poised and graceful, her mere presence commanding the air around her. Her white skin was smooth and had a soft, natural radiance, unmoved by harshness, and bordered a small heart-shaped face. High cheekbones, a fine, queenly nose, and her lips full and tempting with a soft rose color—all blended into a sort of loveliness that did not bellow, but quietly took hold. Her pale blue eyes, set in soft arched brows, glimmered like ice pools, deep and unfathomable.

Long, silver-white hair fell in waves down her back, catching the sun in soft halos. A black blouse clung to her ample curves, precisely molded to the contours of her breasts and tiny waist. Below, a high-waist white gown clung to her wide hips and toned thighs with elegant precision, her golden embroidery glinting gown shining like morning dew. Effortless yet sensual, Sona radiated noble beauty—every movement a mixture of power, poise, and irresistible femininity.

Leon sensed something in his chest move—then change. A faint shudder in the heart, like the reverberation of a song long past.

He had known many beautiful women. His wives—each of them, divine beauties in her own way. Rias’s bold with little childish edge, Aria’s gentle warmth, Syra’s bold magnetism, Kyra’s quiet depth, Cynthia’s cold elegance. Nova—fierce and radiant, like flame wrapped in steel. Even Natasha, the king personal secretary he’d met in the royal study, held a poise and sophistication that lingered in the mind.

But Sona... her beauty was different.

There was something more underneath. Something not quite on the surface. A kind of pull—soft, nearly ghostly. She wasn’t attempting to enchant... and still she did. Complete.

He stood there for a long moment, snagged not only by her loveliness, but by the strange pain she brought out in him. A part of him—his or maybe the old Leon’s—felt that she was something precious... and just out of reach.

And then, with Leon frozen in place—nearly windless—

While Sona had already spun around towards the voice that had summoned her, her eyes actually fell on the person standing just behind her.

A man.

Not a stranger—never a stranger. Her breath caught softly as eyes locked with his.

Leon Moonwalker.

The name resonated in her heart, not from title but from memory—deep, personal, and uncorrupted by time. Her childhood companion. The lad who once laughed in the shade of starlit trees, heard her thought without criticism, looked at her as if she were something greater than a noble’s daughter.

The friend she never wished to distance herself from.

But time had done what time does best—it took apart hearts that had once beat as one. It was duty, destiny, and the unkind tide of things that had torn them apart, leaving silence where there had been connection.

And yet... here he was.

He was different.

No—he looked better.

Her lips parted just enough, eyes widening by a fraction as she assessed him. The Leon she knew was already good-looking, already charismatic in his innate confidence. But the man standing in front of her now exuded a different quality.

Black shoulder-length hair defined a face that had honed to maturity, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and golden eyes that were serene and piercingly clear—like sunlight glinting on still water. His very stance gave off quiet strength, earthy and confident.

Sona blinked slowly, suspended in the moment, suspended in him.

And although he didn’t say anything yet, his eyes never left her face—keen, thoughtful, as though seeing her for the first time again.

Time stood still.

For a breath.

For more than a moment.They stood in silence, locked in a gaze that held years between it. Just the two of them, under the soft sky and blooming roses.

Then, as if the world remembered itself, a breeze swept across the garden, brushing strands of silver across her cheek.

The spell broke.

The magic was shattered.

Her heart thudded suddenly.

Awkwardness hit him—he was staring. Staring. And she... had been too.

A pale flush spread on her cheeks.

She regained control quickly. Chin rising a fraction, spine aligning with practiced poise. But the soft cough still slipped from her lips.

"Cough~! .Leon," she breathed, voice low soft—regulated, but not detached.

It was that voice—her voice—that brought him back.

Leon blinked, almost surprised. She’d spoken his name—and just like that, something inside him stirred again.

She was watching him—truly watching. And he’d been caught.

He cleared his throat, recovering just enough.

"Ahem... Your Majesty," he said, dipping his head with formal grace. "Forgive the intrusion."

His tone was calm, respectful, but beneath it, there was a warmth—something only she might notice.

Sona’s lips curved gently. In quite a sweet smile. Her tone was soft—quietly sincere..

"Leon... it’s all right. Lift your head."

Leon did as he was told, raising his eyes to meet hers.

She regarded him—not as queen to subject, but as woman to someone known. Someone she once laughed with beneath mutual skies.

"Leon," she repeated, her voice still gentle, yet now overlaid with something underneath—an old affection, a muffled ache. "How many times do I have to tell you? You’re my friend. So don’t be so obsequious in front of me... and don’t address me as ’Your Majesty.’ Just... call me Sona."

Her voice was soft, but in the manner of speaking, there was weight—something personal, something she’d probably spoken about many times. A bridge she’d stretched toward, without knowing if it would ever be crossed.

Leon blinked in surprise. A flash of it ran through his eyes before something else awakened.

A memory flashed back—he recalled how, each time he saw her after she became the Queen, he had always kept his distance from her. And each time, Sona had asked him kindly to stop. She had wished him to be normal with her, to speak to her like before... to simply call her by her name.

But he never did.

Leon smiled faintly, bordering on apology.

Your Majesty... I apologize, but—" he shook his head with a gentle laugh, "don’t you feel it just doesn’t feel right?"

Sona’s smile paled, but only a little, to be replaced by something more solemn—something more earnest.

"Leon," she murmured, her voice dropping into something stronger, more sincere. "I’ve always said it, and I’ll say it again. You are my friend. You’ve always been. So please... don’t use ’Your Majesty.’ Not when we’re alone. Not like this."

She stopped, and for an instant, something vulnerable flared behind her icy blue eyes.

"If it’s hard for you... then at least treat me normally when it’s just the two of us. Call me by my name. Sona."

Leon looked at her for a moment—really looked—and saw it.

Hope.

Faint, fragile, but unmistakable.

A small smile crept across his lips again, softer this time. He gave a short nod and murmured,

"Alright... Sona."

Her eyes lit up just a little. That quiet hope bloomed into something warmer.

She smiled, really smiled.

"That’s better," she breathed, and for an instant, her composure dissolved into something much more human.

Leon didn’t respond beyond that, but his eyes stayed on hers with a curious serenity, as if some old pain had eased into something tolerable.

Then, just disjointing the moment ever so, Sona asked,

"By the way, Leon... what are you doing here?"

Leon breathed lightly and shrugged casually. "Nothing, really. I came to see the King. After the meeting, I thought I’d take a stroll in the royal garden. for some peace. So, I’m here."

Sona nodded slowly, her eyes steady. "I see. That makes sense."

Her tone was even, but something quiet seethed underneath it—quiet and impossible to pin down.

Then awkward silence descended upon both.

Thus, Leon interrupts the silence

He had paused for a second before he looked at her with an air of uncertainty.

"By the way, Sona..." he started gently, his tone softer than usual.

She turned back to face him, a curious twinkle in her eyes. "Hmm?"

He hesitated, as if to reconsider the question. But he went ahead anyway.

"...What are you doing here? Alone, I mean... in the garden."

The question itself was easy, practically offhand—but something about it seemed weightier after it lingered.

Sona’s face changed.

It wasn’t overt, but Leon caught it—how her lashes dipped just a little, how her lips opened slightly as if she was taken aback. Her position remained the same, but the atmosphere around her shifted.

As if by a sudden coolness in the air.

And Leon could sense that too. A subtle tightness, a soft pressure that wasn’t there before. Not aggressive—just... quieter. More personal.

For one fleeting moment, she said nothing. Her gaze veered off, floating to the roses as her fingers stroked one of the petals softly.

And Leon remained quiet, understanding then that perhaps she hadn’t been here for peace... but to get away from something else.