CHAPTER 360: THE WEIGHT OF HER PLEA

The Weight of Her Plea

Then Mia’s voice tore through it, shrill and incredulous.

"Wh... WHATTTTTT!"

The noise shattered!the air, jagged as splintering glass, shattering off the walls until there was only a dense silence between them, weighing them down.

Leon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His throat constricted, and instead, he just looked away—refusing to meet her gaze.

Mia’s eyes blazed into him. Wide. Empty. Shock drained her face, but beneath it, something shook—fear, denial, frantic hope all crashing into one another within her.

She swallowed slowly, made herself speak, and her voice returned—lower, more stable, though the shake within it betrayed her.

"Leo... Leon... what are you talking about? W-what do you mean you have to... to sleep with my unconscious mom?"

Her voice cracked halfway, unnatural and jagged, with nerves she couldn’t conceal.

Leon’s chest expanded and contracted. He took a long, trembling breath, then sat down on the bed beside her. The mattress sagged, and for an instant there was only the sound of his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears. He planted his hands together, finding his balance, before finally speaking—his voice low, ponderous, weighed down by his decision.

"Mia," he breathed, a near-sigh. "I recognize that what I’ve said sounds like thunderbolts to your ears. It should. It sounds wrong, it sounds intolerable. But this. this is the only way I have."

Mia’s mouth opened, but nothing emerged. Her fists clenched in her lap. Finally, a shattered protest escaped.

"But...!"

Leon silenced her softly, firmly.

"Mia. Trust me. I do not want this. I do not wish for it, not in this way. But as your husband, as a man who loves you above all... I want to do this only if you tell me to.".

"And don’t believe I’d disregard your mother’s testament either. Even if she is comatose now... I have means. I can wake her up sufficiently, take her to a state where she hears me, understands me. I’ll tell her everything, the truth, and she will choose—accept or reject my treatment. I will not impose it on her. Never."

Mia glared at him. Her eyes flashed with turmoil—anger, confusion, fervent hope. She took a deep breath, her chest lifting as if attempting to anchor the tempest within. She looked away for a moment, towards her mother’s still, white form recumbent. The thin chest lifted weakly, her complexion washed pale like porcelain.

Mia’s words shook as she continued, not meeting his gaze.

"Leon... just tell me one thing."

Leon spun toward her in an instant. "What is it?"

She faced him again, finally meeting his gaze. Her pupils dilated, shining.

"How certain are you that you can cure my mother?"

Leon paused. Just for a moment. His lips compressed into a thin line—brief uncertainty flickering. But then—

[System voice in his head] Bro. Tell her. Tell her you’re 100% sure.

His eyes widened faintly at the unexpected push, but then his heart steadied. He drew in a sharp breath, forcing the fear out, and let a smile curve his lips. A confident, almost defiant smile.

"Hundred percent, my love. I’m sure."

Mia blinked. Her throat bobbed. He radiated a confidence that felt unshakable, and for a moment her heart wavered.

She gazed at him... and then away again. Her head slowly shook, her eyes falling into the hollowness of the room. A deep sigh escaped her lips.

"Leon... you know..." She was softer now, faraway, as if peeling away a memory. "When I was young, my mother was already so frail. I recall what the maids spoke secretly in the mansion.". I was three when it occurred—an age too young to comprehend—but I recall that day she suddenly fell. I didn’t know what death was, but I could feel it suffocating her. I wailed and wailed, asking for her voice back, but she wouldn’t wake up.

Her shoulders shook slightly.

"And when I looked at my father... all I had was his cold stare. His selfish desires. Never did I ever see him embrace my mother. Never did he ever care for her the way I wanted him to."

Leon’s fists clenched on his knees. Each word pounded into him like slivers of glass.

Mia took another harsh breath, forcing the words out.

My maternal grandfather... the ex-Duke of Starlight... he knew she was fragile. He knew her body would not hold. He was ill himself, hit by some odd disease. So before he died, he arranged for her to be married to my father Edric, thinking she would be protected. And he made sure she was guarded, looked after. But. after I was born, her body weakened further.". She fell into unconsciousness... and no one, no healer, no alchemist, no scholar could ever tell why.

Her lips trembled.

"I tried... I tried so many. I pleaded. But every time, nothing. I lost hope."

Leon’s chest squeezed in agony. He wanted to say something, but her voice drowned out his thoughts.

"I questioned the maids. They said to me... my mother was a woman of great spirit. With her brittle body, yet kind, courageous. She wished to nurture, to become strong... but her body never permitted. Still, she never lost that determination. Never."

Mia’s eyes were shiny now, tearful. She wiped hastily but the tears continued to force their way through.

"You know, Leon..." She swallowed, forcing a wry smile through trembling lips. "All my life, I’ve only ever truly wanted two people. My mother... and you. That’s all. Just those two. If it means saving her, I’ll do anything."

She turned fully to him, her eyes raw, burning, pleading.

"So if you’re one hundred percent sure... then heal her, Leon. Please. Whatever it takes... just heal her."

Her voice broke. Finally, her tears slipped down her face as her hands extended, clasped over each other, as in a prayer—begging on her knees before him.

Leon’s heart pounded. Seeing her kneeling soul destroyed something within him. He acted on instinct—taking her hands, pulling them into his own, holding fast.

"Mia. Don’t. Don’t you ever fold your hands in front of me. You’re not a supplicant. You are my wife. My partner. You don’t beg me—you command me. You do have that right. Right, unadulterated right over me."

Her tears pricked harder, glimmering like glass in the flame of torches.

But still, she spoke, shattered and obstinate. "Even so... for this, for my mother... Leon, I... I want to beg."

Leon’s throat constricted. He couldn’t stand it. He jerked her into his arms, holding her tight against him. His voice trembled, but his hold was tight.

"You don’t have to beg. I will heal her, Mia. I promise it. I will heal her a hundred percent. No matter what it costs."

Mia nodded against his chest, her body shaking, her breath hitching on sobs.

And in his heart, Leon promised himself silently—he would never let this promise be broken. Not now, not ever.