"I'm sorry for not coming to see you," Rachel said, her voice soft but steady as she stepped closer.
I tilted my head in confusion. "Hmm? Don't worry about it."
"No, I do," she insisted, and her hand lightly gripped my sleeve, halting any further argument. Her sapphire eyes met mine, and for a moment, I wondered if this was how angels apologized—earnestly, as if the fate of the universe depended on it.
"You're a good friend of mine, so… I'm sorry for behaving like that," she said. Then her face broke into a bright, radiant smile, the kind that could stop wars or melt glaciers. With her golden hair catching the light just so, she looked almost ethereal. "Please think of me as your precious friend, Arthur."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sheer sincerity in her voice. "...I do," I managed to say, though my throat felt oddly tight.
"You're the first person I can consider precious after her," I muttered under my breath, quickly turning away before I gave too much of myself away.
But of course, no moment of peace could last too long in the presence of Cecilia Slatemark.
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around my neck in a far-too-familiar hug, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement as she whispered, "Don't tell me you don't find this amusing."
"Cecilia," I said, holding my arms up awkwardly as Aria's jaw practically hit the floor.
"What are you playing at?" I muttered under my breath, keeping my voice low enough to avoid further scandalizing my poor sister.
"I told you," Cecilia murmured, her voice dripping with mischief. "I want to stun you so badly you'll be on your knees. Tell me, how close am I?"
I didn't answer. Partly because I didn't know how, and partly because acknowledging anything would just make her worse. Cecilia Slatemark had a terrifying talent for reading people, and while I wasn't easily shaken, even I found her unnerving.
"Well, I also like seeing Ray-Ray react like that," Cecilia giggled as she finally let go, winking at me. "Now, how about you become a decent host for once? Honestly, Arthur, get it together."
Her ability to be both charming and deeply annoying truly bordered on superhuman. "I'll get some drinks," I said with a sigh. "We can order food later. Come with me, Aria."
Leaving Rachel and Cecilia to their own devices, I guided my still-wide-eyed sister toward the kitchen.
"Hey, brother," Aria began as soon as we were out of earshot. "Are you dating one of them?"
"What? Of course not!" I replied, scandalized by the very idea.
"That makes sense," she said, nodding thoughtfully. "But still…"
She glanced back toward the living room, her gaze lingering on Rachel.
"What is it?" I asked, frowning.
"No, it's nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I must have seen it wrong."
I tilted my head, confused but too tired to press the issue. With a sigh, I turned back to the task at hand: fetching drinks and pretending I wasn't completely out of my depth.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Meanwhile, back in the living room, Rachel sat still as a statue, maintaining a serene expression until the kitchen door swung shut. Then, as if a dam had burst, she melted into the cushions, her composure utterly abandoned.
'He called me precious!' she thought, her grin so wide it was almost comical. She felt like she could float straight out of the apartment.
But, of course, Cecilia wasn't one to let happiness go unchecked for too long.
The serene quiet of the moment was suddenly shattered by a loud, unmistakable voice.
"I WANT HIM TO FUCK ME!" Rachel's recorded confession blared from Cecilia's phone, quiet enough so only Rachel could hear it..
Rachel froze. Her head snapped toward Cecilia, whose face was the picture of smug satisfaction.
"Hehe," Cecilia giggled, twirling a strand of her golden hair as if she hadn't just detonated a social grenade.
"Why?" Rachel hissed, her eyes narrowing into sharp, furious slits.
"You looked too happy," Cecilia replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I didn't like it."
Rachel's glare darkened, her mind working rapidly to read Cecilia's mood. Normally, the teasing princess had an air of playful chaos about her, but this was different. There was no hint of lightheartedness now—just a quiet, simmering dissatisfaction.
Rachel leaned back, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. "Looks like even you have things you don't understand, Cecilia."
For once, Cecilia didn't have a snappy retort. She just looked at Rachel, her usual confidence briefly faltering. And in that rare moment of silence, Rachel allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
"Look at that, even you can be cute when you try!" Rachel teased, leaning in to poke Cecilia's cheek with the precision of someone deliberately baiting a feral animal.
Cecilia recoiled instantly, her expression somewhere between affronted and murderous. "Don't assume I won't show Arthur the recordings I have," she hissed, folding her arms defensively as if the mere mention of her blackmail material could reassert her dominance.
"Oh, shut up," Rachel replied breezily, running a hand through her golden hair like a queen brushing off a commoner's complaint. "You're always threatening me with those recordings, but you never actually show them. And honestly? It wouldn't even matter. What's the worst that happens? I get a little embarrassed?"
Cecilia sighed dramatically, tossing her hair back with enough flair to make it clear she wasn't conceding defeat but rather tolerating Rachel's insolence—for now. "You've developed a thick skin," she muttered.
"You made me develop one," Rachel shot back confidently, her smile bright and sharp. "And let me warn you, Cecilia: I won't lose. You told me not to, didn't you? So I won't. Not to you, and not to any other girl he charms—which he absolutely will, because he's so damn charming."
Cecilia's crimson eyes narrowed, her tone turning colder. "I don't like him," she said flatly. "Carnal desire? Sure. Emotional attachment? No."
Rachel blinked, her expression unreadable for a moment before a slow, smug smile spread across her face. "Cecilia," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "how interesting. Even you have a weakness."
"What did you say?" Cecilia's voice dropped an octave, her crimson eyes glinting with dangerous intensity.
"Oh, nothing." Rachel tilted her head innocently, though the playful lilt in her voice was anything but. "Just think about it, Cecilia. Maybe you'll figure it out while we're here. And I hope you do. Because when you do, I'll be waiting. To crush you."
The air between them turned heavy, crackling with tension. Cecilia's crimson mana surged like a storm about to break, while Rachel's golden mana shimmered steadily, calm yet unyielding. The two forces clashed invisibly, chaotic energy grinding against unwavering order.
Witchcraft against Saintess. Chaos against light. Destruction against salvation.
They were so similar and yet utterly opposed. Both were princesses, both extraordinarily talented, both masters of spellcasting and the subtle art of reading people. Both were beautiful and captivating in ways that drew others to them almost without effort.
But while Cecilia thrived on chaos, bending rules and people alike to her will, Rachel existed to restore order, to heal and salvage what was broken. Where Cecilia manipulated, Rachel inspired. Where Cecilia sowed destruction, Rachel rebuilt.
The room seemed to hold its breath as the two stood there, facing each other, their personalities clashing as much as their mana. Opposites in every way, bound by circumstance and, perhaps, a begrudging respect neither of them would ever fully admit to.