The Extra's Rise - Chapter 378

Chapter 378: Medal for Merit (2)

The nobles stepped back, murmuring amongst themselves as I was shepherded away from the throng by the quartet. I felt a surge of relief wash over me, grateful for the timely rescue.

From across the room, I caught sight of Aria, who raised her glass in a mock toast, her eyes dancing with amusement at my predicament. She was deep in conversation with a group of young nobles, no doubt regaling them with embarrassing stories from my childhood.

The music shifted, a waltz filling the room with its lilting melody. Seraphina turned to me, her silver hair catching the glow of the chandeliers as she extended her hand. “Shall we?” Her status as the princess of Mount Hua sect, the greatest sect in the East, lent her an air of serene authority.

I nodded, taking her hand as we moved onto the dance floor. Her movements were graceful, each step precise yet effortless. We glided across the floor, her gaze meeting mine with a rare sparkle of mischief.

“You know,” she said softly, “when I first met you, I thought you were just another student. Talented, perhaps, but unremarkable.” A smile touched her lips. “I’ve never been so pleased to be wrong.”

“Is that a compliment from the Ice Princess of Mount Hua?” I teased.

Her eyes, usually so guarded, softened. “I was raised to be perfect, Arthur. To show no weakness, to need no one.” Her grip tightened almost imperceptibly. “But with you… I find myself wanting to be imperfect. To need. To feel.”

The admission hung between us, delicate and profound. I pulled her closer, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine.

“I’m still learning how to let someone in,” she whispered. “But I’m grateful it’s you teaching me.”

As the music ended, she stepped back, composure returning like a veil drawn across her face. But the warmth in her eyes remained, a silent promise meant only for me.

Rachel was next, her golden hair swept up elegantly, the soft curves of her dress moving like liquid gold. She took my hand with a grin that dared me to keep up with her as the music shifted to a livelier tune. We spun and twirled, the room blurring around us as laughter bubbled between us. She was playful yet commanding, her steps quick and full of joy.

“You’re thinking too much again,” she observed, eyes twinkling. “I can always tell.”

“A bad habit,” I admitted.

She laughed, the sound like sunshine breaking through clouds. “One of many. And yet…”

“And yet?”

Her expression turned thoughtful. “In the North, they call me the Saintess. They expect me to be divine, untouchable.” She spun under my arm, her movements fluid and natural. “But you… you make me feel human, Arthur. When I’m with you, I’m not the Saintess of the Creighton family or the Princess of the North. I’m just Rachel.”

“And that’s who I see,” I assured her. “Always.”

She smiled, her eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that took my breath away. “My father once told me I’d find someone who would see past the titles, past the power. I didn’t believe him.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Until you.”

As the dance ended, she pressed a quick, daring kiss to my cheek, her smile radiant as she stepped back.

Rose claimed the third dance, her movements flowing like water, calm and unhurried. The daughter of Marquis Springshaper carried herself with a quiet confidence that matched the gentle strength in her eyes.

“You look more relaxed now,” she observed, her voice a soothing balm. “Good. You’ve been carrying too much tension.”

I smiled ruefully. “Nothing escapes your notice, does it?”

“Very little,” she agreed, her brown eyes warm with understanding. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Unlike the others, Rose had no grand title or mystical power. Her strength lay in her steadiness, the calm center in the eye of the storm.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “my mother once told me that love isn’t about grand gestures or flowery words. It’s about finding someone who makes the ordinary extraordinary.” Her gaze met mine, steady and sure. “That’s what you do, Arthur. You transform the mundane into the magical, not with power or glory, but with your heart.”

I felt a warmth spread through me at her words. “And here I thought I was the one lucky to have found you.”

Her smile deepened, reaching her eyes. “Perhaps we found each other, at exactly the right moment. Isn’t that what matters?”

As we moved across the floor, she spoke of her feelings—how they had grown slowly, surely, like the steady turn of seasons. How she had come to love not just the hero everyone saw, but the man beneath—with all his doubts, fears, and dreams.

“Thank you,” I said as the music faded. “For seeing me.”

She smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. “Always.”

Finally, as the night wore on, Cecilia stepped forward, crimson eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The music slowed, turning to a romantic melody that seemed made just for us. I placed my hand on her waist, and she slid hers around my neck, drawing us close.

“The others have been monopolizing you all evening,” she said, a playful accusation in her tone. “I was beginning to think I’d need to cause a diplomatic incident to get my turn.”

I chuckled, the sound vibrating between us. “Would you have?”

“In a heartbeat,” she replied, not a trace of hesitation in her voice. Her crimson eyes held mine, unflinching and unapologetic.

We moved in perfect synchrony, the silence between us speaking volumes. The night deepened, the room alive with revelry, yet for a moment, it felt as though we were the only two people there.

“I’ve never been good at this,” she said suddenly, her voice low. “Feelings. Connections. They seemed… unnecessary. Distractions from power and ambition.”

I remained silent, sensing there was more she needed to say.

“Until you,” she continued, her voice taking on a rare vulnerability. “You made me question everything I thought I knew about strength. About myself.”

Could I have ever imagined such a moment with Cecilia? Never. Despite her calculated moves, her strategic flirtations, I’d always held a quiet distance, wary of the sociopathic edge that lurked beneath her charm. But here, now, she seemed… normal. Human, even.

“Honestly, these feelings are difficult for me,” she admitted, her gaze shifting, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen. “I don’t like being close to people. It feels… intrusive, bothersome. But you, you’re different.” Her voice dipped, almost hesitant. “From the moment I saw you, it felt like a crime to let my eyes stray.”

We moved to the rhythm, the music weaving around us like a protective barrier, keeping the world at bay as she spoke.

“I never thought love was in my story,” she said, a wistful smile gracing her lips. “When I was younger, it seemed foreign, unnecessary. But you, Arthur, you proved me wrong.”

The confession hung in the air between us, more precious for its rarity. Cecilia Slatemark didn’t open her heart easily, if at all. That she had chosen to do so with me was a gift I wouldn’t take lightly.

“I’m here,” I said simply, the words a promise. “For as long as you want me to be.”

Her smile turned playful again, though the vulnerability remained in her eyes. “Be careful making promises you can’t escape, Art. I’m not known for letting go of what’s mine.”

We continued to dance, the world around us a blur. For that moment, her mask had slipped, and beneath it, I found someone I could believe in. The warmth in her eyes was a promise, one that carried hope even amidst the storm of uncertainty that our lives had become.

As the night waned, I found myself on a balcony overlooking the imperial gardens, a moment of solitude amidst the celebration. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the warmth of the hall.

I thought about the four women who had chosen to share their hearts with me, each in her own way. Seraphina, with her carefully guarded emotions, finally learning to let someone in. Rachel, longing to be seen as herself, not just as the Saintess. Rose, finding the extraordinary in ordinary moments. And Cecilia, discovering feelings she never thought she’d have.

“Enjoying your moment of glory?” Aria’s voice broke through my thoughts as she joined me on the balcony, two glasses of champagne in hand. She offered one to me.

“Just breathing,” I replied, accepting the glass with a grateful nod.

She leaned against the railing, her gaze following mine out to the gardens. “You’ve got quite the collection of admirers in there,” she teased, but there was a serious undertone to her words. “Four exceptional women, each powerful in her own right. Most men would be overwhelmed.”

I chuckled. “Most men aren’t me.”

“No,” she agreed, her expression softening. “They’re not. Which is why they love you, I suppose.”

“I know,” I said simply. “But I’m not alone.”

Aria smiled, raising her glass in a toast. “No, you’re not. To family—both blood and chosen.”

I clinked my glass against hers, the sound crystal clear in the night air. “To family.”

Behind us, the banquet continued, a symphony of laughter, music, and the delicate dance of politics. But for that moment, standing beside my sister under the vast expanse of stars, I felt a rare sense of peace.