Chapter 89 Homecoming (5)

Words : 1381 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Aria and I stepped back into the living room, and the first thing that hit me was the palpable tension hanging in the air, thick enough to slice with a dull butter knife. I sighed inwardly. 'Of course, Cecilia and Rachel argued about something.' It was as inevitable as gravity, though significantly less useful. The two of them were like oil and water—except the oil was explosive and the water was radioactive. Cecilia sat perched on the armrest of the couch, her golden hair catching the light like a waterfall of molten gold. She looked utterly at ease, her lips curled into that ever-present smirk of hers. But there was something different, something I couldn't quite place. Her eyes didn't have the same glint of sharp malice they usually carried after one of her verbal sparring sessions. The usual storm of chaos around her was quieter, less destructive. Rachel, on the other hand, stood by the window, her arms crossed and her golden hair glowing faintly in the afternoon sunlight. She wasn't retreating like she might have before. Instead, she looked almost… bold. Her sapphire eyes met Cecilia's with an unflinching confidence, a quiet strength radiating from her that wasn't there the last time they'd had one of their little battles. 'Interesting,' I thought, my mind immediately cataloguing the changes. Cecilia's usual venom was dulled, and Rachel's usual hesitance had evaporated. Whatever had happened between them had clearly left its mark. "Well, this is cozy," I said, breaking the silence as I set the tray of drinks on the table. "Did you two settle your differences or just agree to disagree on the definition of 'orderly murder'?" Cecilia's smirk widened, and she tilted her head at me. "Oh, Arthur, we're just… bonding," she said, her voice dripping with honey and mischief. Rachel snorted softly—an actual snort, not the refined chuckle I was used to hearing from her. "Bonding, sure. If by bonding you mean Cecilia trying and failing to get under my skin." "You love it when I try," Cecilia replied, her tone casual but with the slightest edge. "Not really," Rachel said, her voice steady, her sapphire eyes sharp. She turned to me, her face softening as if she'd just remembered I existed. "Arthur, thank you for the drink." "Uh… you're welcome?" I said, surprised by how direct she was. Normally, Rachel had this air of reserved politeness, like she was afraid of offending anyone. But now, she seemed entirely in control—of herself, of the situation, maybe even of Cecilia. Aria, meanwhile, was staring at the two princesses like they were some kind of rare phenomenon, whispering to me, "What happened here? Did Rachel get possessed or something?" "No idea," I whispered back. "Maybe Cecilia annoyed her into self-actualization." Aria stifled a giggle, and Cecilia's sharp crimson eyes flicked toward us. "You two are whispering. That's rude, you know." "So is recording people without their permission," Rachel shot back without missing a beat. Cecilia froze for the briefest of moments before recovering with a laugh that was just a little too forced. "Oh, come on, Ray-Ray. You're still hung up on that? It was funny." "Funny to you," Rachel said, her tone light but firm. Then she turned to me again, her expression softening once more. "Arthur, do you think I'm funny?" It was such a straightforward, unexpected question that I almost choked on my drink. "Uh… what?" "Do you think I'm funny?" she repeated, tilting her head slightly. I glanced at Cecilia, who was watching with an expression that was somewhere between intrigued and annoyed. Rachel's boldness seemed to have thrown her off balance too. "Yeah, I guess," I said finally. "I mean, in your own way." Rachel smiled—a genuine, radiant smile that somehow managed to be both endearing and terrifying. "Thank you." Cecilia rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Saintly manipulation…" The dynamic between them had shifted, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Rachel was no longer the quiet, hesitant Saintess, and Cecilia was… less vicious, somehow. It was like the battle lines between them had blurred, and neither of them was quite sure where they stood anymore. 'Well, it seemed like Rachel had reverted to her original self,' I thought, watching her with a faint smile. She had always been the embodiment of golden retriever energy—bright, boundlessly kind, and genuinely thrilled to bring a bit of sunshine into everyone's lives. She wasn't just nice; she was the blueprint for nice, the kind of person who made you feel guilty for ever being cynical about the world. Her boundless enthusiasm was most notable around Lucifer, the so-called Second Hero in the novel. She adored him. But when it came to me? Somewhere along the way—around the mid-terms, to be specific—that boundless energy had dimmed. She became quieter, more introspective, almost hesitant. I didn't know what had caused the change, but I had a feeling it had something to do with Cecilia. Cecilia Slatemark, of course, had her own way of complicating things. She was the opposite of Rachel in every conceivable way—chaotic, sharp, and fiercely manipulative. If Rachel was a golden retriever, Cecilia was a cunning fox, always a step ahead, always ready to pounce. And yet, even Cecilia seemed… different now. Rachel and Cecilia had always been like oil and water, locked in an eternal tug-of-war, but now the dynamic between them had shifted. There was less antagonism, less venom. Not that Cecilia wasn't still teasing and sharp as ever—no, she wasn't one to let her claws dull—but there was something almost... restrained about her now. "Arthur, I have to say, you look like someone's trying to do maths in their head," Cecilia said, breaking me out of my thoughts. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "What's going on in that complicated little brain of yours?" "Nothing," I said quickly, though the slight smirk tugging at her lips told me she didn't believe a word of it. "Liar," Cecilia said, sitting up straighter, her energy shifting. But instead of her usual biting tone, there was something softer, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Fine, keep your secrets. But don't think I haven't noticed." "Noticed what?" I asked, feeling like I was walking into a trap. "Both of you," Cecilia said, gesturing between Rachel and me with an elegant wave of her hand. "Something's changed. You're different. She's different." Her voice didn't have its usual edge—it was almost contemplative. Rachel, standing by the window, didn't immediately react. Then, to my utter shock, she turned to Cecilia with a small, knowing smile. "And so are you, Cecilia." Cecilia's eyes narrowed, her confidence faltering for just a moment before she recovered. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said breezily, though her voice lacked its usual venom. S~eaʀᴄh the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Rachel just laughed, a soft, melodic sound that filled the room. "Of course you don't." I glanced between the two of them, utterly baffled. Rachel, back to her golden retriever energy but with a sharpness that wasn't there before, and Cecilia, still the queen of chaos but… muted, in a way that didn't feel like her. It was like watching two rivals spar with words, only to realize halfway through the fight that they didn't actually hate each other as much as they thought. And then, Cecilia did something that shocked me more than anything else. She leaned back, crossing her arms, and smiled—not a smirk, not her usual sharp grin, but a genuine, almost vulnerable smile. "Rachel was right, goddammit," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to catch. I blinked, utterly thrown. Whatever had happened between them, it had clearly changed them both. And for the first time in a very long while, I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Chapter 89 Homecoming (5)

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