Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 541: Whispers in the Wolf’s Den

Whispers in the Wolf’s Den

William placed one hand on the door, then looked over his shoulder, expression soft but chilling.

"Gentlemen," he said, voice dropping to a velvet whisper, "let’s discuss the future of our kingdom... and the boy who thinks he can rule it."

He pushed the door open.

---

The hinges let out a low sigh as the door swung inward, letting the warm light spill across the polished floor. The room inside wasn’t massive, but it carried weight—the kind of heavy, comfortable authority built over decades of power.

A long oval table sat in the center, made of dark wood with carvings of wolves running along the edges. Around it, plush couches and chairs were arranged deliberately, each one angled toward the head seat like a subtle bow. A chandelier—iron twisted with silver vines—hung above them, dripping with warm orange light. The scent of aged wine, burning oil, and old books blended in the air.

One window stood partly open, curtains swaying gently as a cool night breeze filtered in, carrying the distant scent of the city Leon now ruled.

The nobles stepped in hesitantly, eyes darting around.

William walked forward with the ease of someone returning to a throne.

He reached the head seat—high-backed, dark leather, made for a man who expected people to listen to him—and lowered himself into it with a slow, relaxed elegance. He crossed one leg over the other, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.

"Sit," he said.

Not loud.

Not forceful.

But the kind of command that left no room for negotiation.

The nobles obeyed instantly.

Viscount Renn took the seat closest to William, trying to look calm. Baron Halden settled opposite him, wiping sweat from his forehead when he thought no one noticed. Duke Selmen—the oldest among them—moved with stiff dignity, though his eyes betrayed the anxiety he attempted to hide. Two younger nobles, practically boys beside William, took the far seats, shoulders tight and backs straight.

When they were all seated, the room’s atmosphere thickened—anticipation, fear, hope, all tangled together.

William leaned back, eyes drifting lazily over them.

"Now," he murmured, "let’s hear it. Everything."

The nobles exchanged looks, waiting for one another to speak first.

William’s smile deepened.

"Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy."

Baron Halden cracked first.

"My lord... when Leon attacked the capital, we were caught off guard. None expected King Gary to fall so easily."

Renn swallowed hard. "The boy came like a storm. His forces—what little he brought—moved with precision we’ve never seen. It’s... unnatural."

Duke Selmen cleared his throat. "Magic, perhaps. Or foreign support. Regardless, the capital fell."

One of the younger nobles added quietly, "And King Gary... he’s still stuck in the Moonstone war. No one knows when he’ll return."

"Or," Renn whispered, "if he’ll return at all."

A beat of silence.

The wind pushed the curtains gently, making them flutter like dark wings.

William drummed his fingertips once on the table.

"And while all of this happened... what did the nobles do?"

Halden’s voice faltered. "We—we tried to maintain order."

Renn nodded desperately. "We held our territories, kept the people calm—"

William tilted his head.

A tiny gesture.

Enough to shut them up instantly.

"You maintained order," he repeated softly. "How noble of you."

The sarcasm was sharp enough to skin them alive.

Renn stiffened as if struck. Halden sank a little in his seat. The younger lords avoided eye contact entirely.

But William didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His stillness alone felt like the calm before a guillotine drop.

"Let’s not pretend," he said, eyes drifting from face to face. "Every one of you is here because you’re hoping this chaos... benefits you."

A heavy silence dropped over the table, suffocating.

The chandelier lights flickered.

Outside, the faint clatter of distant soldiers echoed—a reminder of Leon’s presence in the capital, of the occupation happening under the night sky.

One of the young nobles swallowed loudly.

"My lord... we simply believe that with King Gary absent, and Leon taking the throne... your position becomes vital."

Renn jumped in. "If you—Count William—stand, we stand with you. If you rise to claim power, the kingdom follows."

Duke Selmen bowed his head slightly.

"You are the shadow king of the North. With your influence... the throne isn’t far."

The words spilled too fast.

Too eager.

Bootlicking polished to perfection.

William’s expression remained unreadable.

Inside, his thoughts turned slow and calculated.

So predictable. Gary leaves for war, and his vultures come crawling to me, begging for a new sun to orbit.

If Leon weren’t here... they’d have already pledged fealty to me.

But now? They’re afraid. They want to choose the right wolf to follow. They just don’t know which one bites harder.

William inhaled softly, then exhaled through his nose.

"Continue," he said.

Baron Halden leaned forward, hands clasped. "My lord, if Gary returns... we all know he won’t forgive this. He’ll see the nobles as weak. Disloyal."

Renn nodded quickly. "He’ll punish us. Strip lands. Execute a few... perhaps more."

"And if Leon keeps the throne," Duke Selmen added, "then we must align ourselves with him. Or with the one who can challenge him."

The younger lords exchanged nervous glances.

Everyone’s eyes drifted to William.

William’s expression didn’t change, but something subtle shifted in the air—like a predator waking up.

"So," he said, "you wish to support me?"

Renn spoke immediately. "Yes, my lord."

Selmen echoed, "Without question."

The young nobles followed with frantic nods.

William’s jaw flexed once.

Then he laughed.

Soft.

Cold.

Dangerous.

The nobles flinched.

William leaned forward, elbows settling on the table, fingers interlocked as his black eyes sharpened.

"You’re all very quick to offer loyalty when you’re frightened."

Halden opened his mouth to protest, but William lifted a finger.

Silence swallowed the room again.

"I haven’t decided," he continued. "Leon is not a fool. Anyone who can take the capital with so few soldiers... deserves caution."

One young noble whispered, "He defeated Aiden’s elites too... the clash between their camps echoed all night. Even the sky burned."