Chapter 236: Passing the Test
"Mr. Raul. Do you have soone you like?"
Usually, when soone asked that question, there was an assumption behind it. A subtext. A reason.
Arkai and Roarke, having navigated the treacherous waters of noble social circles their entire lives, knew this implicitly. The one asking the question either had a crush on the person being asked... or was checking their availability for soone else.
So, with the coldness of eternal black ice piercing his back like a thousand tiny daggers, Roarke chuckled.
He knew he was in danger.
"Why?" His voice was remarkably steady, given the circumstances. He even managed a casual shrug. "Your friends want to know if I’m available or sothing?"
A pause. A beat.
"I am, by the way. Available. And I’m about to get rich." He puffed up slightly, pride flickering through the tension. "This month. I can buy all the ice creams and milk tea on dates." A grin. "Advertise ."
The cold ice behind him, the brooding, wrathful presence of Arkai Dawnoro, was about to dump more cash than necessary on him this month. At least he’d be well-compensated for whatever fresh hell this conversation was about to beco.
"Are you sure you don’t have soone you like?" Cecilia asked again.
Roarke felt beads of sweat rolling down his back.
Could it be... was she actually, genuinely asking if he was available? For her?
The thought was almost funny. Almost. Beneath the humor, a very real fear took root.
He was going to die.
She might actually get him killed.
He should have lied. Should have said he already had soone—
"Not even Sienna?" Cecilia’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "The prettiest girl in the north?"
Both Roarke and Arkai paused.
Cecilia looked unblinkingly at Roarke, her sea-glass eyes trying to look deeper, to see past the surface, to find sothing. Her expression was the most casual thing in the world, as if she were asking about the weather, about lunch plans, about anything other than the woman who had tried to destroy her brother.
But rather than blush. Rather than flinch. Rather than give away anything at all—
Roarke’s face went pale.
It was the pale of horror.
"Sssssh—" He hissed, ducking his head, his eyes wide with genuine panic. "You really are trying to get
killed, huh?!"
He shook his head frantically, his hands coming up in a gesture of pure denial.
"Are you crazy? Liking Arkai’s sister?" His voice was low, urgent, absolutely sincere. "She’s sixteen! Bruh, she’s a child. And she’s my boss’s sister—that’s just stupid!"
Cecilia blinked.
Huh.
Then, with a smile as bright as sunlight breaking through dark clouds after a storm, Cecilia bead at him. Gentle. Warm. Radiant.
She reached out and tapped his shoulder proudly, like a teacher praising a student who had finally understood a difficult lesson.
"Good." Her voice was warm, approving. "You pass."
Roarke’s face imdiately drained of all color.
All of it. Completely. He went from healthy, living human to parchnt-white in the span of a single heartbeat. What could this an?! What did he just pass?!
Was it—was it because he didn’t like Sienna—he passed as her potential boyfriend or sothing?!
He was going to be so dead.
Soooooooooooooooooo corpse-adjacent.
So dead that dead things would look at him and say "dude, that’s too dead."
"Miss Araceli..." His voice ca out strangled, barely a whisper. "I think you’d have a good career as an assassin. You know. Soone who can kill without getting blood on their own hands."
Cecilia shook her head slowly, her smile never wavering.
"Not ." Her eyes t his as she shrugged. "You could be."
What.
Roarke’s brain short-circuited.
In the real world, after everything, after Sienna, after the banishnt, Roarke Raul had beco an assassin. A formidable one. A killer of good leaders, paid in blood and gold.
But here, in this world, he was just Arkai’s right-hand man. Just a guy who organized files and followed his best friend and had absolutely no idea what this terrifying woman was talking about.
Cecilia turned away.
"Mr. Raul." Her voice floated back over her shoulder, light and casual. "I’ve finished checking everything. You’ve seen
check everything, right?"
Roarke nodded chanically. He had. She had been thorough.
"Since nothing’s wrong and nothing will go wrong, I’ll return to my dorm to sleep." A wave, still not looking back. "See you tomorrow!"
Her figure disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the conference’s chaos, leaving Roarke standing frozen in place.
"No." The word escaped him, barely audible. "See you never again!"
He grasped his chest, feeling his heart pound against his palm, and cried internally.
Alright. Goodbye, world.
Roarke stared at the space where Cecilia had disappeared, accepting his fate with the resignation of a man who had lived a good life and was prepared to et its end.
He had never thought he’d be this young when it happened. Eighteen was far too early to die. But here he was, standing in the middle of a magic conference, waiting for his best friend to murder him over a woman he hadn’t even tried to pursue.
If he was going to die, at least he’d have preferences about the disposal.
When he felt the presence of Arkai Dawnoro reach his side, he was ready. The cold, brooding energy settled next to him. But he had to be the first to speak. Had to get his final wishes out before the killing blow.
"Listen, man." His voice was steady, resigned. "The ground up north is frozen solid. Don’t try to pry it open with shovels and break grave diggers’ backs just to bury my body, alright?"
"And if you bury , my body would probably just mummify anyway. The soil, the temperature... it’s gross. So make sure to just cremate ." A pause. "And throw the ashes into a lake. Sowhere pretty. With fish, maybe."
In the middle of his ramble, Roarke finally looked at the man beside him.
Arkai’s eyes were complicated.
Not murderous. Not wrathful. Just... complicated. Layers of emotion Roarke couldn’t parse.
"Brother...?" Roarke waved a hand in front of his face. "You still there?"
Arkai blinked. Turned to him. His eyes narrowed in disgust.
"Sending you around her was not a good idea." His voice was low, thoughtful. "She might just use you to gain more crucial information about ."
"BRUH!" Roarke clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp with the force of his frustration. "THIS IS WHY I WANT YOU TO TELL
EVERYTHING! ALL THE NECESSARY INFO!"
Arkai didn’t react.
He let Roarke be mad. His mind was elsewhere, still circling the question Cecilia had asked.
About Sienna?
What did that an? What was she trying to uncover?
Was she just gauging the dynamics of the people around him? Testing loyalty, seeing who might side with Sienna in case of confrontation? Was she looking for a traitor, soone who would protect his sister, enable her, hide her?
The thought was chilling.
Because if she was looking for traitors, she was looking for people who would choose Sienna over him. People who might help her, cover for her, enable the nightmare she had tried to create.
And if she found them—
All Arkai knew was that Cecilia Araceli was infinitely more unpredictable than he had ever imagined.
A woman who thought of everything, from all possible angles. A woman who would test, prod and provoke to get every information necessary.
All in all... a woman who made his heart race and his hands shake and his mind obsess in ways he couldn’t control.
He didn’t know what she was planning.
He didn’t know what she wanted.
But he knew...
That his knees were weak now.
Kneeling would get him at the perfect height to have his head crushed between those thighs—FUCK, BRAIN—
His monologue was cool just now—prefrontal cortex, do your job properly!
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