Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 714 714: A King, Sixty Women, and an Absolutely Wild Night

A King, Sixty Women, and an Absolutely Wild Night

It was the second morning since Leon had sealed himself inside his personal estate.

Beyond the walls, the kingdom breathed in peace.

The sun rose slowly over Nagarath, soft gold spreading across tiled rooftops and distant watchtowers. Early light spilled across the city like warm honey, brushing the stone towers and quiet streets in gentle color. Birds stirred from the branches of courtyard trees, their soft chirping threading through the cool dawn air.

Dew clung to garden leaves, catching the sunlight in tiny sparks. Somewhere beyond the estate grounds, the distant murmur of the city began to wake—vendors opening stalls, carts creaking along stone roads, the quiet rhythm of a kingdom beginning another day.

Commander Black stood one kilometer from the estate perimeter.

His arms were folded behind his back, posture rigid, gaze sharp and unwavering as it swept the empty road leading toward the royal grounds. A small squad of elite soldiers stood behind him, equally silent.

No one was permitted closer.

Not servants.

Not officials.

Not even minor nobles seeking an audience.

The restriction had been clear.

The king was not to be disturbed.

One young soldier shifted his weight slightly, lowering his voice.

”…Commander. Has His Majesty given any word since yesterday?”

Black didnʼt even glance at him.

”No.”

The soldier hesitated. ”Should we be worried?”

Blackʼs eyes remained fixed on the distant estate walls, tall and silent against the morning light.

”If the king required help,” he said calmly, ”we would already know.”

”But… even the treasury envoy requested—”

”The king,” Black said calmly, cutting him off, ”is not to be disturbed.”

The guard swallowed and straightened.

”Yes, Commander.”

Silence returned.

Black did not question the order. Leon rarely gave commands that needed explaining.

And if the king had decided to isolate himself for two days… then there was a reason.

Inside the estate, however—

The peaceful dawn outside did not match the aftermath within.

The grand hall, once pristine and elegant, bore the unmistakable evidence of two nights without restraint. White masks were scattered across the marble floor and carpets, remnants of some forgotten formality abandoned in the chaos that followed. The air carried a heavy mixture of perfume, sweat, warm skin, and the lingering intimacy of bodies that had pushed themselves beyond exhaustion.

Couches had shifted far from their original alignment.

One velvet armrest leaned crooked where someone had clearly stumbled against it in the dark. A table near the center carpet rested at an awkward angle, one leg slightly lifted as if it had been knocked aside and forgotten.

Silk curtains hung loose where they had been pulled halfway down, the torn edges brushing the marble floor.

Several flower vases had toppled during the night. Their petals were scattered everywhere—white, crimson, violet—crushed beneath careless footsteps like soft confessions left behind.

The scent in the hall was thick.

Not unpleasant.

Just… heavy.

Warm skin. Lingering perfume. Sweat. Passion.

And beneath it all, the quiet stillness that followed absolute exhaustion.

Sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, casting long golden beams across the hall.

And there—

Across the floor, over couches, against cushions—

Bodies.

Some rested across velvet sofas, limbs loosely draped over armrests. Others slept on the thick carpets, tangled in blankets that had clearly been pulled down during the night. A few leaned against pillars or curled near the long banquet table, as if they had simply collapsed wherever their strength had given out. Some rested against one another, tangled in loose blankets. Others slept where exhaustion had claimed them, hair spilling over pillows or across the marble floor.

Soft breathing filled the vast hall.

A faint murmur escaped from one woman as she shifted slightly, brushing hair from her face in her sleep.

”…mm… Leon…”

A few stirred faintly as the sunlight crept across their skin.

Another groaned quietly, burying her face deeper into a cushion.

Someone else lazily pulled a silk sheet over her shoulders without fully waking.

The silence was intimate rather than empty.

A battlefield had its survivors.

So did this hall.

Above the broad steps, a scattered cloak covered two women curled close, strands of their hair fanning out on stone as if poured from a bottle. Resting under its edge, one woman held the other around the middle, limbs loose, chests rising in quiet rhythm. Stillness settled where breath met cold floor.

A girl by the window slept upright, leaning on the wall, her head tipped backward, light from the sun touching her skin.

A slight movement came from the woman as she adjusted herself on the couch. A soft groan slipped out, barely audible. Her face pressed deep into the cushion, hiding away.

”…Gods… my legs…”

A sound came softly from close by, low and drowsy, rising up near the ground.

”You were the one who said you could keep up…”

A giggle slipped out from a person on the far side of the space.

”None of us could keep up.”

Half hidden under a silk drape, another woman stirred, her eyelid lifting just enough to catch the morning light. Sunlight crept across her face as she lay still, only one eye peeking at the brightening sky. The fabric pooled around her while warmth touched her skin, pulling her gently awake.

Light spilled slow onto the cold marble, then crawled toward the mess of crumpled fabric. Shoulders caught its glow first - damp, half-exposed - followed by strands of unbound hair fanned out like broken threads. What stayed behind filled the space: empty glasses, one shoe under the chair, quiet where noise had been king.

Her eyes flickered open and shut, struggling to lock onto anything clear. A loose piece of hair got shoved aside by her fingers.

”Is… is it morning already?”

Out of her throat slipped a whispery sound, thin like old paper - this was how tiredness sounds after long nights spent wide awake, laughter burning through the hours instead of rest.

A sound came from the left, a woman sighing deep in her sleep. Her eyelids stayed shut tight while the noise slipped out. It wasnʼt loud, just heavy breath turning into complaint. The air felt thick when it happened. No one turned their head. She lay still, caught in some unseen pull beneath awareness. A moment passed like that - quiet again, except for what lingered after.

”Donʼt say that word…”

Some people moved when they heard it.

A shift came from someone on a cushion. Into the pillow went another face, burying it further. From the far side of the hall crept a soft laugh.

Already morning? came the mumble from under the blanket. Not fair, that felt like

A hand lifted slow, fingers splaying across sunlit skin. Whoever pulls that curtain more will vanish - no warning

Laughter, soft like breath on glass, slipped between the walls then vanished back into stillness. Quiet returned slow, as if tired from even that small moment of sound.

Half-open silk curtains framed the room where party chaos lingered in the air. Cushions scattered far from their usual spots marked paths of wild movement. The smooth floor served as bed now, holding still figures worn out by too much joy. A feastʼs echo lived on in crumpled fabric and quiet breaths.

Few among the staff, probably mopping floors after dark, seemed to have stopped bothering with this spot altogether.

Few dared to step forward, too tired even to speak up about the events behind those closed doors.

Females without clothes rested across the ground, spread out like those left after a clash of desire.

A single woman rested her face against someone elseʼs shoulder, eyes closed. Over near the window, one stretched out flat on top, surrounded by soft mounds of fabric, air moving quiet through her nose.

Golden rays touched cheeks first, then drifted toward tangled strands above shoulders. Sun spilled slowly, catching edges where warmth met cool shadow beneath chins. Light moved like breath - gentle, uneven, alive against forehead curves. It pooled behind ears before slipping down necks in thin, quiet streams.

Falling fast, crimson strands covered part of the cushion, glowing like flame. Close by, silver caught the light, shifting with every small movement. Then black twisted into green, purple bled into blue, and blonde wove through them all, mixing without order. By now, the whole room seemed to breathe color, spread wide over cold marble and soft velvet.

Half-lidded, she stirred - long strands of silver spilling across the pillow. A mumble followed, thick with sleep, syllables dragging like stones.

”If anyone asks… me to walk straight today, I will fall.”

A sharp pain hit when she moved her legs, making her sink into the cushions and let out a soft groan. She froze, breath caught, eyes closing for just a second.

A sound came from close by, a faint snort escaping someone.

”Same here,” sanother woman said, rubbing her face with both hands before peeking out from behind a curtain of dark hair. Her cheeks were flushed even now. ”Last night His Majesty was… a little too enthusiastic.”

The third woman let out a breathy laugh.

”A little?”