The Extra's Rise-Chapter 518: Mothers (3)

Going to the Eastern continent had been eventful.

Eventful in more ways than I’d thought possible.

And this conversation was proving to be one of the more challenging parts.

"Seol-ah, your father ordered this," I said, keeping my voice firm despite the way her golden eyes blazed with defiance.

"Ha, pulling out that card now?" She smacked her forehead in frustration, her black hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the window. "My home burns and you want me to leave? To abandon everything I’ve sworn to protect?"

The pain in her voice cut deeper than any blade. I could see the conflict tearing at her—duty to family warring with loyalty to her homeland, the practical wisdom of survival battling against her fierce pride. Seol-ah had never been one to retreat, even when retreat was the wisest course.

"Your home needs you alive to rebuild it," I said, stepping closer. "Not dead defending ashes."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Those ’ashes’ are where my ancestors are buried. Where my people have lived for generations. You don’t understand—"

"I understand more than you think." My voice softened, remembering the ruins I’d walked through, the families I’d helped evacuate, the children who would never see their homes again. "I’ve seen what this war has cost. What it’s taken from everyone."

She turned away, gazing out at the scarred landscape visible through the window. The Moyong family estate, once magnificent, now bore the marks of recent battles. Scorched earth where gardens had bloomed, broken walls where proud towers had stood.

"The student conscription is over," I continued. "The official justification for keeping you here has ended. Your father isn’t just protecting you—he’s being strategic. The Windward family’s protection means safety, resources, and most importantly, a future."

"A future that doesn’t include my homeland," she said bitterly.

"A future that could help you reclaim it." I moved to stand beside her, close enough to catch the familiar scent of jasmine in her hair. "The war is winding down, Seol-ah. With the Vampire Monarch dead at the Martial King’s hands, the tide has turned decisively in our favor."

She glanced at me, surprise flickering across her features. "You really believe it’s over?"

"The worst of it, yes. But that means the rebuilding phase is coming, and rebuilding requires different skills than fighting. Political connections. Economic partnerships. The kind of influence that comes from having ties to powerful Northern families."

Her shoulders sagged slightly, some of the fight going out of her. "My father’s always thinking three moves ahead."

"It’s what’s kept your family strong for centuries." I hesitated, then decided to take the leap that had been building in my chest since our dance at the banquet. "And it’s not the only reason I want you to come North with me."

She turned to face me fully, those golden eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my heart race. "Lucifer..."

"I know the timing is terrible," I said, running a hand through my blonde hair. "I know everything is complicated and uncertain. But I can’t let you leave without telling you how I feel."

The words hung between us like a bridge neither of us had dared to cross before. We’d circled around this moment for weeks—stolen glances, touches that lingered too long, conversations that carried more weight than their words suggested.

"We talked about this at the banquet," she said quietly. "The complications..."

"I know about Deia. I know it’s not simple." I took her hands in mine, marveling at how perfectly they fit despite the calluses from sword work. "But what I feel for you isn’t diminished by that. If anything, it makes me more certain."

Her breath caught. "Certain of what?"

"That love isn’t always convenient or simple. That sometimes the heart makes room for more than logic says it should." I lifted one hand to cup her cheek, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "I love you, Seol-ah. Completely. Desperately. In a way that makes me want to be worthy of the faith you place in me."

Tears gathered in her eyes, catching the light like scattered gold. "Lucifer, I—"

"You don’t have to say anything now," I said quickly. "I just needed you to know. Before we leave this place, before everything changes, I needed you to understand that you’re not just seeking sanctuary in the North. You’re coming home to someone who loves you."

She was quiet for a long moment, her gaze never leaving mine. Then, slowly, she smiled—the first real smile I’d seen from her since the evacuation orders came through.

"You magnificent, impossible man," she whispered. "Of course I love you too."

The words hit me like divine light, brilliant and warming and absolutely transformative. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so instead I did what I’d been dreaming of for weeks.

I kissed her.

Her lips were soft and warm against mine, tasting faintly of the jasmine tea she favored. She melted into me, her arms coming up to circle my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. The kiss deepened, carrying with it all the words we hadn’t said, all the moments we’d held back, all the hope for whatever complicated future we might build together.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she rested her forehead against mine.

"This doesn’t solve anything," she said, though she was smiling.

"It solves the most important thing," I replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "Everything else we can figure out together."

She laughed, the sound like music after the discord of war. "Together in the North, under your family’s protection, while I learn to navigate whatever arrangement you work out with Deia."

"If you’re willing," I said, meaning it completely.

"I’m willing to try." She pulled back enough to meet my eyes. "But I want to come back here someday. When the rebuilding is done, when it’s safe. This will always be my home."

"Then I’ll help you come back," I promised. "Whatever it takes."

Three days later, we stood on the deck of the airship that would carry us to the Northern continent, watching the Eastern landscape disappear beneath clouds and distance. Seol-ah’s hand was warm in mine, her black hair whipping in the wind as she took her last look at the land of her birth.

"No regrets?" I asked softly.

She squeezed my hand. "Ask me again in a year."

The journey North took the better part of a week, giving us time to settle into this new dynamic between us. We talked about everything and nothing—her fears about leaving, my concerns about integrating her into Northern society, the delicate balance we’d need to strike with my family’s expectations.

But mostly, we simply enjoyed being together without the constant threat of battle or separation hanging over us.

When the familiar spires of Windward City finally came into view, I felt the complex mix of emotions that always accompanied homecoming. Relief, anticipation, and a touch of anxiety about how my family would receive Seol-ah.

The airship docked at the private terminal reserved for nobility, and I helped Seol-ah gather her few belongings. She’d left with almost nothing—a single trunk of clothes and personal items, her sword, and a small jade pendant that had belonged to her grandmother.

"Ready?" I asked as the disembarkation ramp lowered.

She straightened her shoulders, every inch the daughter of a great family despite her reduced circumstances. "Ready."

We descended together, my hand at the small of her back in a gesture that was both supportive and possessive. I’d sent word ahead that I was bringing a guest, but I hadn’t been specific about who or why.

I should have been more specific.

Because standing at the bottom of the ramp, looking for all the world like they’d been waiting for hours, were two figures I hadn’t expected to see together.

My mother, Queen Helena Windward, stood with her usual regal bearing, her golden hair perfectly coiffed and her blue eyes bright with curiosity. She wore the kind of smile that suggested she knew more than she was letting on.

And beside her, looking equally poised but with an edge of something I couldn’t quite identify, stood Deia.

Her golden eyes found mine immediately, and I felt my stomach drop as I realized the complexity of the situation I’d just walked into. Her red hair was braided back in the practical style she favored, and she wore traveling clothes that suggested she’d come here specifically to meet our arrival.

"Lucifer!" my mother called, her voice carrying the warmth and authority that had ruled our household for decades. "Welcome home, darling. And you must be Seol-ah."

I felt Seol-ah tense beside me, her hand finding mine in a grip that was probably stronger than necessary. This was not how I’d planned to handle introductions.

"Mother," I managed, my voice only slightly strained. "Deia. I... wasn’t expecting you both to be here."

Deia’s smile was perfectly polite, but her eyes held a complexity of emotions I couldn’t begin to parse. "I wanted to welcome our guest properly," she said, her gaze shifting to Seol-ah with unmistakable curiosity. "After all, anyone important enough to bring home must be very special indeed."

The weight of unspoken questions and future complications settled over us like a cloud. I squeezed Seol-ah’s hand, hoping to convey reassurance I wasn’t entirely sure I felt.