The Extra's Rise-Chapter 534: Shadow (5)

The silence that followed Arthur’s casual introduction felt like it lasted forever, though it was probably only a few seconds. I watched my friends’ faces cycle through various stages of shock, disbelief, and what could only be described as starstruck awe.

Elena was the first to break.

"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You’re... you’re actually Arthur Nightingale."

"That would be me," Arthur replied with a small laugh, clearly finding their reactions amusing rather than concerning. "Though I’m just here to pick up my sister. Nothing too exciting."

Marcus had managed to retrieve his dropped tablet, but his hands were shaking as he held it. "I... we were just... I mean, we’ve been following your achievements and..."

"The Imperial Palace duel!" Elena suddenly burst out, her usual composure completely abandoned. "The bone armor technique! How did you manage to synchronize opposing magical paradigms without creating feedback loops?"

Arthur blinked in surprise. "That’s... actually a really good question. You must be in advanced theoretical magic classes."

"She is," I managed to say, finding my voice despite the surreal nature of watching my friends transform into fanboys and fangirls right in front of me.

Lydia had finally recovered enough to speak, though her usual noble composure was noticeably strained. "Mr. Nightingale, I must say, your recent diplomatic achievements have been quite remarkable. The relationship dynamics alone must require extraordinary coordination skills."

I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Lydia would bring up his romantic life.

Arthur’s expression shifted slightly, becoming more guarded. "I appreciate the interest, but I prefer to keep my personal relationships private."

"Of course, of course," Lydia said quickly, clearly embarrassed by her own boldness. "I didn’t mean to pry."

James, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly stepped forward with the determination of someone who had been building up courage. "Could I... would it be possible to get a photo? My father would never believe I met you without proof."

"Sure," Arthur agreed easily. "Though I should warn you, I’m not exactly dressed for formal photos."

"Are you kidding?" Marcus said, still looking dazed. "You could be wearing a garbage bag and it would still be the most impressive photo I’ve ever taken."

As my friends fumbled with their phones and attempted to arrange themselves for pictures, I found myself watching Arthur with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite untangle. He was being patient, kind, genuinely interested in their questions about magical theory and academy life.

He asked Elena about her family’s tech-merchant business, complimented Marcus on his insightful questions about combat theory, and even engaged Lydia in a brief discussion about noble family dynamics. With each interaction, he demonstrated the same natural charisma that had apparently conquered three princesses and countless others.

And watching it happen in real time, seeing how easily he connected with people, how naturally he made them feel valued and heard... it hurt in ways I hadn’t expected.

"Is it true that you’re dating Princess Seraphina Zenith?" Elena asked, her curiosity overcoming her usual social filters.

Arthur’s smile became more diplomatic. "Princess Seraphina is a remarkable person, and I care about her deeply. But as I mentioned, I prefer not to discuss personal relationships in detail."

"What about the Order of the Crimson Dawn?" James pressed. "The ceremony is supposed to be next month, isn’t it?"

"Assuming I can coordinate the schedule with everything else," Arthur confirmed. "Continental diplomacy involves a lot more paperwork than you might expect."

They continued asking questions—about his training regimen, his future plans, his thoughts on various magical theories. Arthur answered what he could, deflected what he couldn’t, and somehow made each of them feel like their questions were genuinely important.

I should have been proud. My brother was being everything he always was—kind, thoughtful, genuinely interested in other people. He was treating my friends with the same respect he would show to emperors or fellow heroes.

Instead, I felt sick.

"Alright," Arthur said finally, glancing at his phone, "I hate to cut this short, but we should probably head home. Mom’s expecting us for dinner, and she gets anxious when people are late."

"Of course!" Elena said quickly. "Thank you so much for talking with us. This has been... incredible."

"It was nice meeting all of you," Arthur replied warmly. "Aria’s lucky to have such thoughtful friends."

My friends began saying their goodbyes, each of them looking like they’d just experienced something life-changing. Elena hugged me tightly, whispering, "You are so lucky," in my ear. Marcus gave me a look that suggested I had somehow ascended to legendary status myself just by being related to Arthur.

Lydia and James both shook my hand formally, as if I had suddenly become worthy of noble courtesy protocols.

"See you tomorrow," I managed to say, forcing a smile as they walked away, still talking excitedly among themselves.

Arthur and I began walking toward where he’d parked his car, a sleek model that probably cost more than most people’s annual salaries.

"Your friends seem nice," he said conversationally. "Elena especially has a good grasp of magical theory. She should consider advanced research tracks."

"Yeah, she’s really smart," I replied, though my voice sounded flat even to my own ears.

Arthur glanced at me as he unlocked the car. "Everything okay? You seem... quiet."

I slid into the passenger seat, surrounded by luxury that felt as natural to Arthur as breathing. The car’s AI greeted us both by name, adjusting temperature and music preferences automatically based on our profiles. fгeewebnovёl.com

"I’m fine," I lied, staring out the window as we pulled into Avalon’s traffic.

But I wasn’t fine. I was drowning in a mixture of gratitude and resentment that made me hate myself more with each passing moment.

Arthur had come to pick me up. He didn’t have to—I could have taken public transport or called a ride service. He had chosen to spend his time, his incredibly valuable and important time, on something as mundane as giving his sister a ride home.

That should have made me happy. It did make me happy, somewhere beneath all the other emotions churning in my chest.

But watching him interact with my friends, seeing how easily he commanded their respect and admiration, witnessing firsthand the casual way he discussed continental politics and romantic relationships with royalty... it drove home just how vast the gap between us had become.

Elena had called me lucky. They all thought I was lucky, having Arthur as a brother. And they were right—I was incredibly fortunate to have someone who loved me, who worried about me, who would take time out of his legendary schedule to make sure I got home safely.

So why did it hurt so much?

The traffic moved slowly through the commercial district, giving me too much time to think. Arthur hummed quietly along with the music, occasionally pointing out new buildings or commenting on the city’s development projects. Normal brother conversation, the kind I had always treasured.

But now I couldn’t stop thinking about the way my friends had looked at him. The reverence, the awe, the barely contained excitement at being in his presence. I thought about how naturally he had answered their questions, how easily he had made them feel important and valued.

I thought about how I would never inspire that kind of reaction in anyone.

The jealousy was like acid in my stomach, burning and impossible to ignore. I knew it was wrong, knew it was unfair to Arthur who had never been anything but supportive and loving. He couldn’t help being exceptional any more than I could help being ordinary.

But knowing something was irrational didn’t make it hurt less.

"Aria?" Arthur’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been staring out that window for ten minutes without saying anything."

"Just tired," I said, still not looking at him. "Long day at the academy."

I could feel him glancing at me, probably trying to decide whether to push the issue. Arthur had always been perceptive about other people’s emotions, another one of his many gifts.

"Did something happen today? With your friends, or classes, or...?"

"No, nothing happened." The words came out sharper than I intended. "Everything’s fine. Everything’s always fine."

The car fell silent except for the soft hum of the electric engine and the distant sounds of city traffic. I immediately regretted my tone, but I didn’t know how to fix it without explaining feelings I couldn’t even fully understand myself.

How could I tell him that his kindness made me feel worse about myself? That his success highlighted my failures? That every achievement he earned felt like proof of everything I wasn’t?

How could I explain that I loved him and resented him in equal measure, and that the contradiction was tearing me apart?

The rest of the drive passed in uncomfortable quiet. Arthur tried a few more times to start conversation, but I gave short answers and eventually he stopped trying. I could sense his confusion and concern, which only made the guilt heavier.

By the time we pulled into our building’s underground garage, I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of my own emotions. The contrast between Arthur’s casual handling of his legendary status and my struggle with basic social situations seemed to embody everything wrong with my life.

We rode the elevator to our floor in silence, the tension thick enough to cut. When we reached our penthouse, Arthur opened the door and held it for me—another small kindness that somehow felt like a reminder of all the ways he was better than me.

"We’re home," Arthur called as we entered.

Mom appeared from the kitchen almost immediately, her face brightening when she saw us. "How was your day, sweetie?" she asked me, then paused, clearly picking up on the atmosphere between Arthur and me.

Her expression shifted into that particular parental awareness that suggested she had noticed something was wrong and was already formulating plans to address it.

"Aria," she said after a moment, "could I talk to you for a minute? In private?"