Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 646: Hospitality of Serpents

Hospitality of Serpents

Footsteps lingered down the halls, their quiet hush slipping away slowly.

The doors closed.

Not slammed.

Stillness held it together. Not a splintered echo, nothing slammed shut - just the quiet weight of thick doors meeting their slots, gliding slow, almost breathed into place.

They settled.

A heavy stillness when the top meets its edge. How it fits without gaps. Not quite silence but close. Dust caught along one corner. Light dimming where fingers let go.

Firmness arrived quiet, unspoken, yet impossible to ignore.

Far off, the sound faded past the doorway.

Laughter dissolved.

A distant sound of glass touching glass faded out for good.

Stone ate the sneer of drunk lords, their idle pride vanishing into cold walls. Distance took greedy stares, silent and wide. Quiet crushed every boast, each tilt of the chin lost in gray air.

Faster than a held breath, quiet filled the space.

A hush that unsettles more than calms.

Far from blank. It holds something real, just not what you first assume.

A thick silence.

A living silence.

A single light swayed, its glow brushing the walls in slow pulses, like golden breaths catching on stone. Heat stayed behind, thick with smells tangled together - sweet smoke, cloth warmed by skin, drinks left too long, hints of closeness that refused to fade. The space held it all, quiet now, yet humming just beneath silence.

Bodies remained.

Not moving.

Not speaking.

Waiting.

There he stayed, motionless, at the spot where they walked away.

A loose grip held the chair’s carved spine, fingers slack - not placed with purpose, but caught like a breath halfway out. Stillness sat around him, though nothing said it was meant to last.

Frozen, his eyes stayed fixed on the doors.

Unblinking.

Measuring.

That grin he’d kept on for the court hadn’t slipped. It stayed fixed, like it belonged to someone else.

Not wide.

Not forced.

A hint of a smile tugs one side of his mouth - smooth, rehearsed, just right.

A grin shaped by long practice at seeming safe. It carried the weight of time, built slow through careful choices. Not sharp, never loud - just quiet enough to let others lower their guard. The sort worn by someone who knew exactly when to stay unseen. A look that lingered without asking permission.

A flicker of candlelight ran along his jaw, shaping shadows where the light fell gently across his cheeks. Eyes caught the dim glow, yet stayed tense beneath the quiet shine.

A hollow space lived behind the curve of their lips. Cold air filled where warmth should have been.

Nothing was amused.

A hush settled over the walls, as if even the air stood still.

A whisper of fabric slid through the air at his back.

A heavy pause between steps. Weight drags sideways now. Movement creeps forward without rush.

A shift so slight it never cracked the quiet - only twisted its shape.

Still facing forward, William stayed put.

It wasn’t necessary for him. He skipped it without a problem.

Something about Robert showed up like air gets heavy when weather shifts.

Not a sound.

Not a touch.

Something changed in how the air felt. The mood took a turn without warning. Not loud, just noticeable. A quiet difference settled in. It stayed that way afterward.

A shift, slight, almost missed. The atmosphere bends without warning. Not a sound, just space rearranging itself. Stillness breaks in silence. Something moves where nothing should.

A pull tipping just a fraction nearer.

Next to him, Robert moved slightly. He adjusted his position without a word.

Slowly.

Casually.

Blood soaked into the floor like it didn’t matter. Tension hung thick, yet ignored. Unspoken deals slipped through glances, unnoticed. Silent numbers ticked inside heads, shrugged off. Nothing changed, they acted. The weight remained, even when dismissed.

A quiet snap came from his elbows as Robert lifted them high. One shoulder turned first - then the second - loosening what clung there. His neck eased, tension slipping free, much like someone adjusting their coat upon arrival, not escape. Stillness followed, though danger had just passed.

His gaze drifted.

Unhurried.

Open.

Almost lazy.

Through the room it moved, skimming past golden wall brackets and heavy red drapes, then settled upon the women standing by the edges. Quietly they waited, their shapes still beneath flickering light.

Nine of them.

Set exactly where it needed to be.

Different faces.

Different body types.

Different energies.

Still tied together, though, by one clear fact on purpose

All beautiful.

Each picked on purpose.

Robert took his time.

A starving man does not stand in that path.

Far from how someone greedy would take it.

Ah, yet there it was - much like someone glancing over items long known to matter, quietly weighing which one pulls hardest into view.

A slight bend appeared on his mouth.

Almost like a grin. Not quite reaching warmth.

Laughter came easy when buying things felt pointless.

"You wouldn’t mind, Lord William," Robert said, voice smooth, light, almost conversational, "if I stayed here tonight and... enjoyed myself?"

A soft hush settled just ahead of those closing syllables.

Intentional.

Heavy with implication.

Something shifted in his gaze when he looked once more.

Not devouring.

Not hurried.

Assessing.

Measuring.

Balance shifts when feelings carry weight like stone. Bodies tip just the same.

A sudden hush fell across the group when he looked her way. Her fingers clenched softly at her sides, folding into fists without thought. Long strands of dark hair slipped forward as she dipped her head, shadows hiding the flicker in her eyes. Breathing slowed. A pause, thin and quiet, settled between them.

A second figure stood motionless, silver-white strands falling across fair skin at the base of her neck. Her jaw stayed high, spine straight, yet tension curled through fingertips gripping the dress. Fabric strained under quiet pressure.

A woman with red hair like blood looked at Robert. Her eyes were deep, almost black. She did not look away.

No blush.

No submission.

No challenge, either.

Just stillness.

Poised.

Calm can be dangerous. Stillness hides risk.

Robert noticed.

He would have done it, naturally.

A faint pull tugged one side of his lips, like storing a note deep inside. Not now - just maybe when it mattered.

After a pause, William stayed quiet.

No visible tightening.

No outward tension.

A slight tilt broke the stillness. His neck moved like something waking up.

Fuzzy edges. Never guarded.

A bit only. Over toward Robert’s expression went his look.

Down next. Up after that. Back again.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Not at all, Prince Robert," William said calmly.

A calm sound filled his words, a slow steady rhythm without rush. Still, just beneath, a thin edge waited.

His eyes glinted.

"It would be my honor."

A quiet warmth spread across Robert’s face, his lips lifting at the edges like dawn breaking over still water. The shape of his grin deepened, shaped by something soft but sure inside him.

He went on talking, voice loose and light, like it was just a chat about clouds instead of what bodies crave when given free rein.

"And don’t waste your breath choosing."

A single snap came when he raised one hand. The sound broke the quiet without warning.

Soft.

Precise.

A hush came first, then the noise - tiny, yet heavy. It sat in the air like something meant to be noticed.

"I already selected the best for you."

A quiet change moved among the women standing there.

Quiet instead. Without show. Barely noticeable.

Shoulders straightened.

Breaths caught.

A glance darted left, quick but sharp. Then stillness - watching angles, weighing odds.

A few women tensed slightly, caught off guard.

Over there, William pointed at the distant doorway.

"A private chamber has been prepared. Warm bath. Fresh clothes. Wine. Food."

A single sound settled where it always belonged, fitting quiet as dust on an old shelf. Not sudden, never forced - more like roots finding cracks they knew by heart.

Something caught his eye, not stuck there, just picked out of the moment. It moved past without pause, yet settled somewhere quiet inside.

The black-haired beauty.

The girl with green hair stood quietly nearby.

"Those two will accompany you."

The dark-haired lady paused, then took a breath before closing her throat around the lump.

A flicker passed behind her eyes before they dipped down. The color in her hair caught the light just as she looked away.

Neither spoke.

A little lift in Robert’s eyebrows showed surprise. Suddenly, his face changed just enough to notice.

Then he chuckled.

Low. Amused.

A noise that comes from agreement, instead of laughter.

"You are very generous, Count."

One slow shake of the head came from William.

A small motion.

"It’s just my hospitality."

A pause hung between them while Robert kept his eyes fixed on the man. Then he looked away.

Without doubt. Without care.

A stillness settles, like one hunter studying the shape of another’s trap.

A silence neither of them could name moved across the room. It settled before words had a chance.

Then Robert nodded. "Then I will enjoy the night."

A slight tilt of William’s head came first. He said, "Go ahead."