Two months had passed in a blur since Cecilia's birthday, and now it was Rachel's turn to celebrate her coming of age.
Rachel wasn't thrilled about her birthday itself. It was a date she had long dreaded, a painful reminder of her mother's abuse from years ago. But this year was different. This year, she was excited—nervous, even. Not because of the ceremony or the inevitable string of formalities.
No, Rachel was eagerly anticipating sothing far more personal: taking that next step with Arthur.
She knew Cecilia had already shared that mont with him, and though it still stung a little, Rachel had co to terms with it. That decision had been made after much deliberation—and a fair amount of fighting among the three girls—while Arthur had been away on his year of isolation training. In the end, Cecilia's earlier birthday and the fact that she had fallen for Arthur first made her the natural choice.
But now, it was Rachel's turn.
A flicker of worry crept into her thoughts as she considered her overprotective father and sister. They were obstacles she'd have to navigate carefully. Yet, Rachel pushed the anxiety aside. This was her mont, and she wasn't going to let anyone take it from her.
She stepped into her expansive closet, a space more akin to a showroom than a wardrobe. Rows of elegant dresses, intricate gowns, and chic modern outfits lined the walls, each reflecting her impeccable taste. Rachel moved to a hidden section at the back, tapping a panel that slid open with a quiet hiss.
She sifted through the carefully arranged garnts, finally pulling out a specific outfit she had chosen just for tonight.
Her cheeks ward as she held it up, picturing herself wearing it. The thought brought a small smile to her lips.
"He'll like this," she murmured to herself, nodding before carefully tucking the outfit back into place.
Over the past two months, she'd seen Arthur every week, yet the anticipation of eting him again never lessened. Each encounter felt fresh, charged with the sa electricity as when they'd first started growing closer.
This ti, however, she would have him entirely to herself. And that thought filled her with a mix of excitent and determination.
Rachel summoned her maids to help her prepare for the grand banquet. As the princess of the Creighton family, rulers of half the North, her coming-of-age ceremony was destined to be an affair of unmatched opulence. Every detail had to be perfect.
For her dress, Rachel chose a resplendent gown of shimring gold, its fabric catching the light like woven sunlight. It matched the radiant hue of her hair, creating an ethereal image that felt almost otherworldly. She completed the look with a delicate golden necklace and earrings, each piece adding to the aura of a living angel.
Once satisfied with her appearance, Rachel reached for her phone and called Arthur, her voice steady yet tinged with anticipation as she asked him to escort her to the hall.
Monts later, a knock ca at her door, and Arthur stepped in. He was dressed in a tailored navy-blue three-piece suit that hugged his fra perfectly. His longer black hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, a style that elevated his already striking presence. To Rachel, he looked effortlessly handso, and the sight of him made her heart skip a beat.
"Arthur," she greeted, a warm smile spreading across her lips as she felt her pulse quicken.
"Rach," he replied, his voice soft but steady, as he extended his arm toward her. She took it without hesitation, her fingers lightly resting on his, the simple gesture sending a quiet thrill through her.
In that mont, Rachel felt like the center of the universe, and with Arthur by her side, she was ready to shine. Together, they stepped out, their figures striking a picture of elegance and grace as they made their way to the banquet hall.
Soon enough, the duo encountered Alastor Creighton and Kathyln waiting for them in the corridor. The siblings stood side by side, a mirror image of one another with their silver hair and piercing blue eyes. Rachel, while sharing their striking blue gaze, inherited her golden hair from her mother, adding a unique brilliance to her appearance.
Alastor's sharp eyes t Arthur's with genuine warmth, though a hint of amusent flickered in their depths. The relationship between the two had grown remarkably close over the years, built on mutual respect and shared experiences.
"Arthur," Alastor greeted with a slight nod, his tone carrying the affection of soone who had co to regard the young man as family.
"Your Majesty," Arthur replied respectfully, though there was an ease in his manner that spoke of their comfortable relationship.
As they began walking toward the banquet hall, Arthur couldn't help but rember the rather unfortunate incident from a few months ago. The mory of Alastor walking in on him and Rachel in her bedroom—specifically, the mont when Arthur had Rachel in handcuffs—still made him feel a mixture of embarrassnt and awkwardness.
Alastor had handled the situation with remarkable composure, all things considered. After the initial shock, he had simply cleared his throat, ntioned sothing about dinner being ready, and retreated with his dignity intact. But the mory of that particular father-ets-boyfriend mont would probably haunt Arthur for years to co.
"I thought you might have sothing to say about tonight," Arthur murmured to Alastor, a hint of nervous humor in his voice.
Alastor's lips twitched in what might have been suppressed laughter. "I've learned not to interrupt your... private monts with my daughter," he replied dryly. "Once was quite enough."
Rachel's face turned a spectacular shade of crimson. "Father!" she protested, though her voice held more embarrassnt than genuine anger.
"What?" Alastor asked with mock innocence. "I'm simply acknowledging that you're both adults now. Though perhaps next ti you could rember to lock the door."
Kathyln snorted with barely contained amusent, clearly enjoying her niece's mortification.
Despite the teasing, Arthur could see the genuine acceptance in Alastor's eyes. The King of the North had always been fond of Arthur, recognizing his character and potential from their first eting. That fondness had only deepened over ti, especially after Alastor had spent a month training Arthur in advanced spellcasting techniques.
During that intensive training period, Alastor had taught Arthur the secret Creighton technique, Laplace, which dramatically reduced spell casting ti. It was a mark of trust and respect that few outsiders had ever received. The fact that Arthur had mastered the technique so quickly had only increased Alastor's admiration.
"Arthur," Alastor said, his tone becoming more serious as they approached the banquet hall. "Once you reach Ascendant-rank, I'll teach you the Astraeus thod."
The offer was significant—another treasured secret of the Creighton family's magical techniques. Arthur understood the weight of such trust.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Arthur replied formally, though his gratitude was evident.
Alastor paused in his stride, fixing Arthur with a aningful look. "I think," he said slowly, "that given the circumstances and the nature of our relationship, you could call sothing less formal."
Arthur hesitated, understanding the implication but not quite daring to assu.
"Uncle would be appropriate," Alastor continued with a slight smile. "At least for now."
"Uncle," Arthur repeated, testing the word. It felt strange but right, acknowledging the family bond that had ford between them.
"Uncle will do perfectly," Alastor confird, his smile becoming more genuine. "Though I suppose after you eventually marry my daughter, you'll have to upgrade to Father."
"Father!" Rachel exclaid, though her protest was undermined by her brilliant smile and the happy flush in her cheeks.
"What? It's inevitable," Alastor said with a chuckle. "Might as well acknowledge it now."
As they continued toward the banquet hall, Arthur reflected on how much had changed. From the early days of careful formality to this mont of genuine family acceptance, his relationship with the Creighton family had evolved into sothing precious and aningful.
For Alastor, watching Arthur's growth from a promising young man into soone truly extraordinary had been remarkable. The incident in Rachel's bedroom, while awkward, had actually served to demonstrate how much Arthur cared for his daughter. The young man could have easily deflected bla or made excuses, but instead he had faced the situation with honesty and maturity.
That mont had crystallized what Alastor already knew: Arthur wasn't just talented and powerful—he was genuinely devoted to Rachel's happiness and well-being. And that devotion, combined with his other qualities, made him exactly the kind of man Alastor wanted for his daughter.
"You know," Alastor said as they reached the banquet hall doors, "I'm proud to call you family, Arthur. Both for who you are and for how happy you make Rachel."
The words carried weight that went beyond re politeness. They represented acceptance, approval, and the kind of paternal blessing that Arthur had never expected to receive so readily.
"Thank you, Uncle," Arthur replied, the title feeling more natural each ti he used it. "That ans more to than you know."
Rachel squeezed Arthur's arm, her eyes bright with happiness at seeing the two most important n in her life co together so naturally. Tonight was already shaping up to be everything she had hoped for, and they hadn't even entered the banquet hall yet.
As the doors opened to reveal the splendor of her coming-of-age celebration, Rachel knew that this birthday would be rembered not just for the ceremony or the gifts, but for the mont when Arthur truly beca part of her family in every way that mattered.
Reviews
All reviews (0)