The Extra's Rise-Chapter 764: The Courtship War (3)

Standing in the Springshaper gardens with three very different men waiting for my response, I felt the familiar sensation of being caught between forces far larger than myself. This wasn’t just about choosing who to spend an afternoon with—everyone present understood that my decision would signal something significant about my preferences and potentially reshape the entire social dynamic surrounding the potential engagement that had been discussed between my family and the royal house.

I looked at each of them in turn, trying to process the complex emotions their presence stirred within me.

Prince Valerian stood with the confident bearing that had always characterized his public appearances, his handsome features arranged in that charming smile that had made him legendary among the Empire’s social elite. He was everything a prince should be—powerful, charismatic, politically astute. Yet something about the way he positioned himself beside me, as if my acceptance of his invitation was a foregone conclusion, made me feel more like a possession than a person being courted.

Jack Blazespout radiated a different kind of appeal entirely. Where Valerian commanded through royal authority, Jack charmed through genuine charisma and the hint of exciting danger that always seemed to surround him. His dark eyes held an intensity that was both thrilling and slightly unsettling, as if he saw things in me that I didn’t even know existed. But there was something about his smile that never quite reached his eyes, a calculation behind his charm that my instincts warned me to be cautious about.

And then there was Arthur Nightingale.

The Guild Grandmaster stood with quiet confidence that didn’t need to prove itself through displays of power or charm. Where the others had positioned themselves to subtly claim territory, Arthur simply waited for my decision with the kind of patience that suggested he genuinely cared about my preferences rather than his own strategic objectives. His blue eyes held warmth and intelligence, but more importantly, they held respect—for me as a person rather than as a prize to be won.

"I think," I said carefully, aware that everyone within earshot was listening to my words, "I would enjoy continuing that conversation from the New Year’s Ball. Grandmaster Nightingale, would you care to show me the estate’s herb gardens? I’ve heard they have some fascinating medicinal varieties."

The relief in Arthur’s expression was immediate and genuine, while the reactions from Valerian and Jack were telling in their own ways. Valerian’s charming mask slipped just enough to reveal a flash of possessive irritation before he recovered his composure. Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was recalculating something he had previously taken for granted.

"Of course, Lady Elara," Arthur replied with obvious pleasure. "I’d be honored."

As we walked away from the group toward the more secluded section of the gardens where the Springshaper family cultivated their famous medicinal herbs, I felt some of the tension leaving my shoulders. There was something about Arthur’s presence that made me feel genuinely comfortable in a way that I rarely experienced in formal social settings.

"Thank you," I said quietly once we were out of immediate earshot of the other guests.

"For what?" Arthur asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.

"For not assuming my answer," I replied honestly. "For actually waiting to hear what I wanted rather than simply expecting me to comply with your wishes."

Arthur stopped walking and turned to face me fully, his expression serious despite the gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Elara, may I be completely honest with you about something?"

The use of my first name was bold for someone I had met formally only once before, but somehow it felt natural rather than presumptuous. "Please do."

"I have no interest in courting someone who doesn’t want to be courted," he said simply. "Whatever develops between us—friendship, something more, or nothing at all—it has to be because you choose it freely. Not because of political pressure, social expectations, or anyone else’s agenda."

The sincerity in his voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. When was the last time someone had spoken to me about my own choices as if they actually mattered?

"That’s... refreshing," I admitted, then found myself adding more candidly than I usually spoke to relative strangers, "Most people seem to assume they know what’s best for me without ever asking what I actually want."

"And what do you want?" Arthur asked, his tone making it clear that he was asking about far more than just our afternoon plans.

The question caught me off guard because it was so rare for anyone to ask it seriously. I found myself considering not just the polite answer I was supposed to give, but what I actually felt.

"I want to matter," I said finally, surprised by my own honesty. "Not as a political alliance or a social trophy or a way to achieve someone else’s goals. I want to be seen as myself, for who I actually am rather than who people think I should be."

Arthur’s expression grew thoughtful as we continued walking through the herb gardens, the fragrant scent of medicinal plants creating a peaceful atmosphere that encouraged genuine conversation.

"Tell me about yourself, then," he said. "Not Lady Elara Astoria, daughter of the Archduke. Just Elara. What do you care about? What makes you happy? What keeps you awake at night thinking?"

The questions were so different from the usual social pleasantries that I found myself actually pausing to consider them seriously. When was the last time someone had asked me about my thoughts rather than my opinions on acceptable social topics?

"I care about healing," I said slowly, thinking through my response. "Not just the magical healing that everyone expects from someone with my abilities, but understanding why people hurt each other and how to prevent that pain in the first place. I spend a lot of time thinking about how much suffering could be avoided if people just... listened to each other more."

"That’s remarkably wise for someone who’s supposedly naive," Arthur observed with obvious respect.

"People mistake kindness for ignorance," I replied, feeling more comfortable than I had in months. "They assume that because I prefer to see the best in people, I’m blind to their flaws. But understanding someone’s potential for goodness doesn’t mean ignoring their capacity for harm."

Arthur stopped walking and turned to study my face with an intensity that would have been unsettling from anyone else. From him, it felt like being truly seen for the first time in years.

"You’re not at all what I expected," he said quietly.

"What did you expect?" I asked, genuinely curious about his answer.

"Someone more... fragile, I suppose. Your reputation focuses so much on your gentleness and purity that I thought you might be sheltered to the point of helplessness. But you’re not fragile at all, are you? You’re strong in ways that most people don’t even recognize as strength."

The accurate assessment made my chest tighten with emotion I wasn’t prepared for. "No one has ever described me that way before."

"Then they haven’t been paying attention," Arthur replied with such conviction that I found myself believing him.

We settled on a bench near a particularly beautiful section of the herb garden, where the afternoon sunlight filtered through carefully cultivated flowering vines to create a sense of peaceful seclusion. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt genuinely relaxed in the company of someone outside my immediate family.

"May I ask you something?" I said, emboldened by the easy atmosphere between us.

"Anything," Arthur replied without hesitation.

"Why are you interested in me?" The question came out more vulnerably than I had intended, but I found I genuinely wanted to know. "You could court anyone—you’re powerful, accomplished, internationally respected. You don’t need a political alliance with my family. So why..."

"Because," Arthur said with the same careful honesty he had shown throughout our conversation, "you’re the most genuinely good person I’ve ever met. Not perfect—no one is—but fundamentally decent in a way that’s rare in our world. And because when I look at you, I don’t see a political opportunity or a social prize. I see someone worth knowing for her own sake."

The warmth spreading through my chest at his words was both wonderful and terrifying. I had never felt anything quite like it before—this combination of safety and excitement, comfort and possibility.

"Arthur," I said softly, testing how his name felt on my lips, "I should warn you about something."

"What?" he asked, though his tone suggested he was prepared to hear almost anything.

"There have been discussions about a potential engagement between my family and Prince Valerian," I said, the words feeling heavy and constraining. "It’s not finalized, but the political pressure is... significant. Whatever this is between us, it can’t be simple."

"I know," Arthur replied quietly. "And I want you to know that I understand the complications. But Elara, I also want you to know that you deserve to have a choice in your own future. You deserve better than being trapped in arrangements that don’t consider your happiness."

The gentle conviction in his voice made something inside me recognize a truth I had been trying to ignore for months. I did deserve a choice. I deserved to be considered as more than just a political alliance. I deserved to have my feelings matter in decisions about my own life.

"Thank you," I whispered, meaning it more deeply than he could possibly know.

"For what this time?" Arthur asked with gentle humor.

"For seeing me," I replied simply. "For the first time in my life, I feel like someone actually sees me."

As we sat together in the peaceful garden, I found myself thinking that whatever complications lay ahead, this moment of genuine connection was worth treasuring. Arthur Nightingale might not be able to offer me the simple life I had once imagined, but he was offering something far more precious—the chance to be myself without apology.

For now, that was enough.

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