The Extra's Rise-Chapter 498: Lumiaren City (4)

The remainder of the banquet proceeded with slightly less of Sun’s grandstanding. As the final course was served—delicate pastries filled with sweetened mountain berry cream—he rose to deliver what could only be described as a speech to himself, thinly disguised as a farewell.

"And so," he concluded after twenty minutes of uninterrupted self-congratulation, "I leave Lumiaren in capable if inexperienced hands. I have no doubt that my sister will maintain what I have built here, and perhaps, with time and proper guidance, even add modest improvements of her own."

Seraphina rose then, her movement fluid and graceful. The light caught in her silver hair and the pale blue silk of her robes, creating an ethereal effect that made several of the assembled officials straighten unconsciously in their seats.

"Brother," she said, her voice carrying easily across the pavilion without seeming raised, "your contributions to Lumiaren’s reclamation will not be forgotten. Mount Hua thanks you for preparing the ground upon which we will now build."

The subtle emphasis on "preparing" wasn’t lost on Sun, whose smile tightened almost imperceptibly. She had just relegated his entire effort to preliminary work, and done it with such diplomatic grace that he couldn’t object without seeming petty.

"Hwaeryun awaits your talents," she continued. "May your journey be swift and your service there as... memorable as it has been here."

A perfect non-compliment, wrapped in courtesy. I hid my smile behind my goblet as several of the city officials exchanged glances, clearly reassessing the young woman who would now be governing them.

As the evening concluded and guests began to depart, Sun made a point of personally bidding farewell to each important official, clasping hands and speaking in tones just loud enough to ensure everyone heard his promises to "keep an eye on things from afar" and "remain available for guidance should difficulties arise."

Finally, as the last of the guests filtered out, Sun approached us at the head table. His smile was perfect, practiced, and didn’t reach his eyes.

"Sister," he said, taking Seraphina’s hand and bowing over it with theatrical formality. "I entrust my city to your care."

"Our city," she corrected gently, "belongs to its people. But I will ensure it prospers."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained the smile. Turning to me, he extended his hand. "Arthur. Do take care of my sister. She has... much to learn about leadership."

I clasped his hand firmly, perhaps a touch more firmly than strictly necessary. "I have complete faith in her abilities. After all, she’s been leading effectively on the battlefield while others coordinated from behind."

The barb landed. Sun’s smile became downright glacial as he withdrew his hand. "Until we meet again," he said, managing to make it sound vaguely like a threat before turning in a swirl of expensive fabric and departing, his personal guards falling in behind him.

We watched until he had disappeared through the pavilion’s grand archway.

"Well," I said quietly, "that was..."

"Exhausting," Seraphina finished, the perfect posture she’d maintained all evening softening slightly as she exhaled.

After bidding goodnight to the remaining officials and ensuring the elders were satisfied with the security arrangements, we finally made our way back to the central pavilion that would serve as Seraphina’s residence.

The master chambers were a welcome refuge after the political theater of the evening. Spacious but comfortable, with windows overlooking the city below, it felt like stepping out of a formal portrait and back into our own skin. Lumiaren glowed in the moonlight, the pale stone capturing and reflecting the light in ways that made the name fitting.

"Beautiful city," I said quietly, moving to stand beside Seraphina at the window.

She nodded, her expression thoughtful as she gazed at the terraced buildings. "Strange to finally see it after hearing so much about it."

I remained silent as she moved away from the window and began removing the jade pins from her hair, each one carefully placed on a lacquered tray. Her silver hair fell in waves down her back, freed from its formal arrangement. She removed the outer robe next, the pale blue silk carefully folded and laid across a wooden stand.

"Help me with this?" she asked, gesturing to the complex fastenings of the second layer.

I moved behind her, fingers working to undo the intricate closures. There was something intensely intimate about this.

Layer by layer, the formal attire was removed until she wore only the simple white under-robe. The moonlight filtering through the windows turned her silver hair luminous, and I was struck again by how seamlessly she moved between her many roles.

"Are you just going to stand there?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"Maybe," I replied. "The view is rather nice."

A hint of color touched her cheeks, visible even in the dim light. She changed into simpler sleeping clothes, though the tension of the day remained evident in the set of her shoulders.

I gave in to the impulse I’d been fighting all evening. I crossed the room and scooped her up, one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her back.

"Arthur!" she protested, though her arms moved to encircle my neck.

"You’ve been on your feet all day," I said, carrying her to the large bed that dominated one wall of the chamber. "Playing princess, commanding troops, intimidating locals, and outmaneuvering Sun. You deserve a rest."

"It’s my duty," she replied automatically, but the words lacked their usual conviction.

"And this is mine," I countered, settling onto the bed with her in my lap.

She relaxed against me gradually, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. The scent of night-blooming flowers from the hanging gardens outside mingled with the subtle fragrance she always carried—something clean and faintly sweet, like mountain air after a spring rain.

"You’re impossible," she murmured, but there was no heat in the words.

"I prefer ’determined,’" I replied, my lips finding the curve of her jaw.

Seraphina’s hand came up to cup my cheek, turning my face toward hers. "Stubborn," she countered.

My mouth moved higher, deliberately brushing the sensitive tip of her ear. "Effective."

The effect was immediate and gratifying. Seraphina’s entire body tensed, a small gasp escaping her lips as her fingers tightened on my shoulders.

"Elven ears," I noted, brushing my thumb along the delicate point, "are rather sensitive."

"You—you know they are," she managed, her voice strained. "It’s not... fair."

I leaned closer, my breath warm against the sensitive skin. "Who said anything about fair?"

She turned in my lap, facing me with eyes that somehow managed to be both dazed and sharp. The moonlight caught in her silver hair, framing her face with a soft glow that emphasized the delicate angles of her half-elven features.

"Two can play this game, Arthur," she said, and there was a note in her voice I hadn’t heard before—something between a challenge and a promise.

Her hands moved to my chest, pushing me back against the headboard. She settled more firmly in my lap, her silver hair falling around us like a curtain that closed out the rest of the world, leaving only this moment, this breath, this heartbeat.

Seraphina leaned forward, her lips meeting mine with surprising intensity. There was nothing of the formal Princess of Mount Hua in this kiss—only Seraphina, with all her carefully controlled passion finally breaking free. When she finally pulled back, we were both breathing harder.

"Not fair indeed," I murmured, my hands settling at her waist.

A rare smile curved her lips, transforming her face from merely beautiful to breathtaking. "I learn quickly."

My thumb traced small circles at her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric. "We should probably rest. Big day tomorrow."

"Probably," she agreed, making no move to leave my lap. Instead, her fingers traced the line of my jaw with deliberate slowness.

I couldn’t resist. I turned my head slightly and captured the tip of her finger between my teeth, biting gently.

Her eyes widened, that lovely flush returning to her cheeks. "Arthur..."

I released her finger but maintained eye contact. "Yes, princess?"

She made a frustrated sound, half growl and half sigh. "You’re impossible."

"You mentioned that already," I pointed out, enjoying the play of emotions across her usually controlled features. "Running out of adjectives?"

Instead of answering, she kissed me again, harder this time. Her body pressed against mine, familiar yet somehow new in this moonlit chamber.

I leaned forward, my lips finding the sensitive point of her ear once more. "Now, about these ears..."

Her body shivered against me, her composure dissolving beneath the focused attention. Small, breathless sounds escaped her lips as I continued exploring this particular weakness, alternating between gentle breaths and light touches, learning what made her gasp and what made her melt.

After about fifteen minutes, I pulled back to look at her—cheeks flushed, breathing uneven, silver hair tumbled around her shoulders. In that moment, with her guard completely lowered, she looked almost vulnerable and impossibly precious.

"You should take a shower," I suggested with deliberate casualness.

Her eyes narrowed, though the effect was somewhat undermined by her breathlessness. "You’re terrible," she informed me.

I grinned. "Strategic," I corrected, and pulled her back into my arms.

She settled against me with a soft sigh, her head tucked beneath my chin. We stayed that way for a long while, the silence comfortable between us, broken only by the distant sounds of the city settling into night and the steady rhythm of our breathing gradually synchronizing.

Eventually, she did take that shower, and I took mine after her. When I emerged, she was already in bed, her silver hair spread across the pillow, gleaming in the moonlight that streamed through the windows.

I slid in beside her, and she immediately shifted closer, seeking my warmth. Her head found its place on my shoulder, her arm draped across my chest, her legs tangling with mine.

"We should sleep," she murmured, though her fingers traced patterns on my skin that suggested sleep wasn’t her immediate priority.

"We should," I agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She tilted her face up, capturing my lips in a slower, gentler kiss than before. When she pulled back, her eyes were heavy-lidded but still alert. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what?"

"Being here. Being you." She settled back against me. "For making this place feel like somewhere I belong."

I tightened my arm around her, understanding the weight of those words from someone who had always existed between worlds—not fully elven, not fully human, caught between Mount Hua’s traditions and the modern world’s demands.

"Always," I promised.