章節 141: Father and Sister Duo
The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the grand hall with Rachel wasn't the grandness of the hall or the number of guests.
I had seen that at Cecilia's party just two months ago.
No, it was the stare of a particular individual—a stare that I didn't dare meet directly.
It was the King of the North, 9-circle mage, Shield of the North.
Alastor Creighton himself.
Also known as Rachel's overprotective father, who didn't seem to appreciate his teenage daughter getting close to any boy—especially if that boy was me.
I smiled awkwardly as our eyes met briefly. The man was the one who trained me during the winter break, and we were on decent terms, but that didn't mean he wouldn't take me down a notch if he felt I was getting too friendly with his daughter.
Rachel leaned in closer to me, whispering, "Relax, Arthur. He doesn't bite... usually."
I gave her a sidelong glance, trying not to look too nervous. "He doesn't have to. He just stares, and I feel my soul leaving my body."
She giggled softly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "He likes you, you know."
"Sure, in the way someone likes a persistent mosquito," I muttered under my breath.
Rachel nudged me with her elbow, her smile widening as she pulled me along towards the other guests. "Come on, let's greet some people before he comes over to interrogate you."
I sighed, putting on a more confident smile as we approached a group of guests. "Just... try to keep me out of his line of sight for a bit, alright?"
"No promises," she said with a sly grin.
The greetings were, as one would expect, annoyingly tedious. Smile, nod, repeat—it was the standard procedure, and I could almost do it in my sleep at this point.
Of course, everyone knew Rachel Creighton, the princess of the North with an extraordinary talent for light magic, but they also knew me. Not just because I was Rank 2 at Mythos Academy after nearly defeating Lucifer in the finals, but also because I'd been seen dancing with Princess Cecilia at her birthday party.
Speaking of Cecilia, I didn't have to look directly at her to know that her gaze was currently shooting metaphorical daggers at me. There was a certain fire in her eyes—one I did my absolute best to ignore.
Instead, I scanned the room and quickly found the group I was looking for: my friends from Class A, standing together, chatting, and looking about as relaxed as one could be at a high-society event like this. Beyond them, I spotted the Slatemark Academy group—they were here too, thanks to their prestigious backgrounds.
But, honestly, my gaze only lingered on one figure among them.
Elara Astoria, my favorite female character from the novel. Her soft, brown hair and gentle lavender eyes made her stand out in a way that wasn't necessarily flashy, but rather warm and welcoming—like a gentle candle in a storm of glowing chandeliers.
Beside me, I could sense Rachel stiffen ever so slightly. She turned her head slightly, pretending to be interested in something else, but I didn't miss the slight narrowing of her eyes.
"Admiring someone, are we?" she asked, her voice light but with a slight edge to it.
I blinked, caught off guard, and turned my attention back to her. "Just… remembering something," I replied, trying to sound casual.
Rachel's lips formed a tight smile. "Mm-hmm, just remember not to get too lost in it," she said, tugging at my arm. "We still have greetings to make."
I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. A jealous Rachel was a new one, and honestly, it was kind of cute.
I caught myself thinking that and immediately shook my head, trying to shove the thought aside before it got me into more trouble.
Rachel furrowed her brows, clearly not amused, before pointedly turning her gaze away from me. I could almost hear her muttering to herself.
Before I could say anything to break the awkward silence, a voice cut through from the right. "Arthur Nightingale."
My feet froze, and I turned around almost mechanically. Approaching us with an aura of unmistakable authority was Alastor Creighton, the overprotective father extraordinaire.
'Hell nah,' I thought, the instinct to turn and flee kicking in almost immediately.
I spun around—only to nearly collide directly with my master, Valerie von Lampez.
It was like colliding with a steel wall draped in velvet, and I barely stopped myself in time, my eyes widening as I looked up at her. Given her high noble status and the fact that she was one of the most powerful Immortal-ranks on the face of the planet, it made perfect sense she had been invited to Rachel's birthday banquet.
'My savior!' I thought, resisting the urge to visibly sigh in relief.
Valerie raised an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between curiosity and bemusement as she glanced at me and then over my shoulder at the advancing Alastor. Her lips twitched, and I could swear she was holding back a smile.
"Running into trouble already, Arthur?" she asked, her voice calm but with a hint of amusement that only I could catch.
I chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ah, you know, just enjoying the festivities… and avoiding any, uh, protective fathers."
Rachel looked between Valerie and me, her confusion evident. Alastor, however, continued his approach, his expression caught between annoyance and that deadly serious demeanor of a father inspecting a boy getting a little too close to his daughter.
"Lord Creighton," Valerie greeted him, her smile polite and oh-so-perfectly timed to serve as a buffer between us. "It's been a while."
Alastor paused, giving her a nod of acknowledgment. "Lady Lampez. Yes, indeed. I wasn't expecting to see you here." He glanced at me and then at Rachel, his brow furrowing.
"Arthur, I see you've made yourself at home in this hall," Valerie commented lightly, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"Yes, Lady Lampez," I responded, my tone as respectful as I could muster while mentally sending her my gratitude for the timely intervention. "Just trying to make sure I don't step on anyone's toes." I shot a quick glance at Alastor, who didn't look all that convinced.
"Is that so?" Alastor finally said, his voice a blend of skepticism and sternness.
Suddenly, the music for the first dance began playing.
'Perfect!' I thought, wasting no time as I grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.
The first dance was traditionally between the birthday girl and whoever she chose, and I wasn't planning to let that opportunity slip by.
"Sorry, Lucifer!" I thought with a mischievous grin.
Yes, Lucifer Windward was supposed to be the one dancing with Rachel in the novel. But now? Now it was going to be me.
Rachel looked up at me in surprise, her eyes widening for a moment before a smile tugged at her lips. Together, we took our positions, assuming the proper dancing stance.
Across the hall, I could see Alastor Creighton glaring at me, his expression one of both disbelief and frustration. It was as if he was telepathically promising a "chat" later.
'Yeah, thanks, but no thanks,' I thought.
However, something else caught my eye—a new glare, unfamiliar yet equally intense.
I turned slightly, and my gaze landed on a silver-haired girl with striking blue eyes. She stood among the crowd, her stare unwavering and, quite frankly, chilling. She looked like an older version of Rachel, except for her silver hair, which instantly gave away her identity.
Rachel's older sister. Kathyln Creighton, the 7-circle mage, was glaring daggers at me.
'Great, just what I needed—another overprotective sibling.'
I looked down at Rachel, giving her a lighthearted smile. "Looks like we have an audience."
Rachel blinked, confusion clear on her face. "What do you mean?"
I gestured subtly with my head, indicating her sister. Rachel turned to look and immediately let out a small groan.
"Of course..." she muttered under her breath, clearly exasperated. "Kathy always finds a reason to judge."
"Well, we might as well give them a show, right?" I said, giving her a playful wink.
Rachel laughed, though a hint of nervousness was still there. "You better be good, Arthur. I don't want to mess this up with all these eyes on us."
I grinned. "You doubt me? I'm practically a dance prodigy."
She rolled her eyes. "You always think too highly of yourself."
The music swelled, and we began to move, my steps guiding Rachel as we gracefully flowed across the dance floor. The moment seemed surreal, with the audience watching, whispers trailing in our wake, and two pairs of eyes glaring—one from her father, and one from her sister.
As we danced, I glanced at Rachel, her focus entirely on our movements, her cheeks flushed with a mix of nervousness and excitement. I decided to lighten the mood.
"By the way, Rachel," I said in a low voice, just enough for her to hear. "Between your dad and your sister, who do you think hates me more?"
Rachel stifled a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she looked up at me. "Oh, definitely Kathy. My father is just... well, protective. Kathy, on the other hand, she's competitive, and she thinks you're stealing my limelight."
I pretended to gasp dramatically. "Stealing your limelight? I could never. I'm simply here to support the star of the night."
She shook her head, amused. "You're impossible."
"And yet, here you are, dancing with me."
Rachel looked away, a small smile on her lips. "Yeah, here I am."
As we moved to the rhythm, I couldn't help but think of how differently things were unfolding compared to the novel. In the original story, Lucifer was supposed to be here, holding Rachel, making her smile, while I watched from the sidelines.
But now, I was here, rewriting the story. And for better or worse, I intended to keep doing just that.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票