Read!!!

There was no softness in it. No hesitation.

Just a demand.

Silence followed again—but it wasn’t empty anymore.

It was filled with expectation. Pressure.

Behind them, even the maids—Fey, Rui, Lena, Mona, Mira, Lilyn—stood stiff, their usual composure cracked just enough to show unease. None of them spoke, but their eyes said enough. They understood what a blood contract meant. And they understood what it could take away.

Mira’s fingers tightened slightly around her sleeve.

Lena glanced at Rui, who gave the smallest shake of her head—don’t speak. Not now.

Chloe shifted subtly, her gaze flicking toward Ronan.

Something about this—

It didn’t feel right.

Ronan noticed. Of course he did.

His expression had already hardened, the earlier ease gone completely. His posture straightened—not out of habit, but instinct.

Very serious.

Black and Johny mirrored it without thinking. Shoulders squared. Backs straight. Eyes forward.

They knew this kind of moment.

This was not casual.

This was—

A decision.

Leon watched them.

All of them.

Not interrupting. Not defending.

Just watching.

His gaze moved slowly—from Rias... to Aria... to Cynthia... lingering for a fraction longer on Syra and Nova... then softer, quieter, over Kyra... and finally, past them all, to the ones who hadn’t spoken.

He let the silence stretch.

Let the weight settle deeper.

Let them feel it.

Only when the tension had tightened enough to almost snap—

Then— He raised his hand slightly.

A small, calm gesture.

"Easy... easy."

His voice was smooth.

Controlled.

The room quieted again.

Not because they agreed.

But because they knew—

He was about to speak.

Leon leaned back into the throne.

Relaxed.

Almost lazy.

But his eyes—

Were anything but.

He let the silence stretch just a little longer, watching them. Measuring. Letting the tension settle into their bones until even breathing felt louder than it should.

Then—

"This blood contract..."

He said slowly.

"...ensures that none of you disobey my orders."

It hit.

Hard.

The reaction was instant.

"What?"

Heels clicked under Rias as she moved ahead, each step cutting through the quiet. Gone now - the playful spark that often lit her red gaze - now bare nerves showed instead.

"...What did you just say?"

A hush slipped through Syra’s thoughts when her mouth opened, just slightly. Her breath came quick - sharp, almost startled - like frost cracking underfoot. Eyes widened, not all at once but in slow pulses, catching light like water rippling after a stone drops.

"...You’re joking."

Not playful now - her voice carried something else. Looking for a way past him, maybe even a gap where his story slipped.

Stillness held her body, yet her eyes turned sharper, fixing on him as if drawn by unseen force.

"No... he’s not."

A whisper, but firm. It lands different - denser, like stone dropped in still water. Not louder, just deeper.

Faster now, Nova moved ahead. Stone echoed under her boots when she halted near the throne - only a few paces away. Her shoulders stayed tight.

"What kind of nonsense is that?"

Out of nowhere, her words sliced the air, sharp with irritation. Yet under that surface tension hid a quieter feeling. A kind of restlessness stayed behind.

Stillness held him. The voice meant nothing. Neither did the threat.

A flicker of worry crossed Cynthia’s face. She never showed fear.

"...Husband."

Quiet filled the space where shouting might have been. No volume required. Then - a breath before saying husband, as if testing the floor beneath her feet. That word came slow, picked with care. Her hands twitched by her hips, just once. A tiny split in how she normally held everything together.

Hesitating just slightly, she watched Leon walk away - her gaze fixed not because she expected clarity, but needing proof things weren’t as they seemed.

Behind them -

A flicker crossed Ronan’s jaw, small but sharp. Not quite a flinch - more like his body had already said no before his mind caught up.

Tension tightened Black’s jaw, a quiet crunch cutting through the stillness. Silence cracked under the pressure of grinding molars.

A heavy breath escaped Johny as he pulled his fingers across his skin, then dropped his arm. His palm slid from forehead to chin, ending in a limp hang at his side.

"My king..."

Every syllable Ronan uttered seemed measured, as if precision mattered more than speed. A calm tone held his sentences together - yet something tense simmered underneath.

"...this is unnecessary."

Without pausing, Black spoke. The edge in his voice made each word land sharper.

"...And dangerous."

Still air escaped Johny’s lips while he tipped his head just a fraction. His eyes moved, light but unsure, skimming faces till they landed again on Leon.

"...For trust."

Sound faded fast. Not a trace left behind. Thick silence took hold. True. Unavoidable.

Last thing anyone expected - silence from Leon. Stillness followed. Not a word came out. He just stayed put.

No sharp glance.

No cold dismissal.

Stillness held its ground. Not a single ripple showed.

There he stayed, unmoving. Just standing. Quiet in his place.

Then -

A single finger rose into the air.

Just one.

Fresh pages appeared where old ones had been.

A hush came before - just a flicker at the corners. Air changed after that. Something old began to rise, not rushing, yet moving with purpose. The scroll felt it next, wrapped in gentle loops, calm rather than fierce... measured instead. Exact.

Cynthia’s gaze tightened just a bit.

She whispered the words softly, nearly lost in thought. The phrase hung in the air like a secret meant only for her ears.

Out of the silence, words started to take shape.

Typed instead of scribbled -

but etched.

Writing lit up the surface, one mark at a time - slow, sure, alive with quiet energy. A hush carried it forward, barely there, like breath just out of reach.

Each contract -

Different.

Yet matching in purpose.

A step forward came before he noticed, his gaze moving across the lines as they stilled. The shapes held still at last.

Folded across his chest, Black’s arms stayed locked. Still, a slight tilt forward brought him nearer to the words.

A soft whistle slipped out between Johny’s lips, quiet but clear.

"...You’re serious..."

Leon’s voice finally broke the silence.

"Read."

That was all he said.

No explanation.

No justification.

Just one word.

And somehow—it carried more weight than any speech could have.

One by one—

They did.

Ronan moved first.

His eyes tracked the text carefully, sharp and methodical. At first, nothing changed. Then—his brow furrowed. A faint crease formed between his eyes.

"...Wait..." he muttered under his breath.

Black grabbed his own parchment next, scanning it faster, more aggressively. His expression hardened with every line, the tension in his jaw tightening further.

Johny read last—but he didn’t rush. His usual ease was gone, replaced with a rare seriousness. Halfway through, he stopped... then went back to reread a section.

"...No... that can’t be right..." he whispered.