The mood was too intense.
Seo—of all people—was never the type to corner with such a question.
She’d always been the quiet one, the indifferent one.
But now... she was trembling, staring right at , eyes brimming with tears she probably didn’t even notice falling.
"Please... like as well, Riley."
Her voice lingered in the air, fragile yet unyielding, and I found myself at a loss.
Was she always like this, deep down? Had I simply been too blind to see it?
I thought I’d been clear about my feelings, in my own way.
I thought she understood—But the way her voice cracked, the desperation in her tone, the sight of those falling tears... it hit harder than I expected.
Had I been too dismissive of her feelings?
Maybe.
Seo wasn’t just a friend to .
I’d told myself that for so long, but the truth was—every boundary we crossed, every little mont we shared—it all blurred that line until it barely even existed anymore.
We held hands without hesitation, shared secrets without fear, leaned on each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To , that was us.
And maybe that was the problem.
I treated everything with Seo as natural, inevitable—so natural that I stopped realizing what those gestures might an to her. Or rather... what they already ant.
Of course I wasn’t an idiot. I saw her interest. I felt it.
And if I was being honest, I mirrored it more tis than I’d like to admit.
But I hadn’t said it outright. I hadn’t given her the words she deserved.
Why?
Because in my mind... we were already together.
I didn’t think I needed to say it.
But now, looking at her tear-streaked face, I realized just how wrong I’d been.
I sighed inwardly and gently cupped her cheek with my right hand, brushing away the tear that slid down her pale skin.
Her eyes trembled as they t mine, and for a brief mont, she looked so small, so fragile, that I almost forgot this was the sa Seo who always carried herself with that cold, indifferent air.
She lowered her head, shoulders slightly hunched, as though embarrassed by what she had just said.
To anyone else, the absence of expression on her face would’ve made it look like she was even sadder.
But I knew better.
I smiled faintly.
I was probably the only one in this entire world who could see past her frozen deanor—the only one who understood that beneath it all, Seo was just... Seo.
Maybe that was why we fit together so naturally, why being around her felt so comfortable.
For a mont, I almost chuckled and reached out to squeeze her cheek, tempted to tease her for how uncharacteristically cute she was acting.
But I stopped myself. I knew just how much effort she was putting in right now.
This wasn’t a ti for jokes.
So instead, I tilted her chin back up with my hand, making her look at again.
"I like you, Seo," I said softly. "I thought I already made that clear last ti."
Her eyes widened in surprise, as though she hadn’t expected to say it so directly. But almost imdiately, she shook her head, stubbornly rejecting my words.
"It’s not that..." she whispered. Her voice quivered faintly, betraying more emotion than her face ever could. "The ’like’ I want is different."
"...Different?"
She clenched her hands, fingers twitching slightly, before finally raising her gaze back to mine. This ti, her eyes carried a tender light I’d never seen before, fragile yet burning with sothing real.
"I want a like... similar to them. No—more than that."
My breath caught.
Her words lingered between us like an unshakable weight, and when I looked at her again, it wasn’t the Seo I was used to.
She wasn’t distant, detached, or indifferent. She was raw. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
Shit.
Why is she so cute right now?
My heart hamred violently in my chest, beating faster with every second that passed.
The more I looked at her, the harder it beca to resist. I didn’t want her to cry anymore.
I didn’t want her to doubt herself.
Before I knew it, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly, warmly, as if I could shield her from everything else in the world.
She stiffened in surprise for a second, her body tensing against mine, but then... she lted into the embrace.
Slowly, softly, she wrapped her arms around as well.
And in that quiet, fragile mont, I felt her heartbeat against mine.
"Haha..."
A chuckle slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
"Riley?" Seo’s soft voice rose from against my chest, confusion clear in her tone.
"It’s nothing," I murmured, resting my chin lightly on her head. "Just... let charge up for a while."
She tilted her head ever so slightly, puzzled by my words, but she didn’t push.
She just stayed there, still and quiet, letting hold her.
People were staring from every angle, whispers spreading like wildfire through the crowd, but for once, I didn’t care.
"Seo..."
"Hnn?"
"Can I take what you said earlier... as your confession?"
For a mont, she froze. Her body stiffened slightly against mine before she slowly nodded, her forehead brushing my chest. "Yes..." she whispered.
Even for her, that small admission must’ve taken everything she had. I couldn’t help but smile.
Reluctantly, I loosened my arms, letting her go just enough to see her face again.
She didn’t et my gaze directly, her eyes darting down and away as though she wanted to stay buried in my arms forever.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing just past her ear. My voice was quiet, but firm.
"I love you, Seo."
Her body trembled faintly at my words. Then she squird, fidgeting like a child caught in sothing mischievous.
"O-Oh... ye-yes. I love you as well, Riley..."
And then it happened—sothing I thought I’d never see.
The faintest flicker of emotion spread across her face, a soft pink blush dusting her cheeks.
For the first ti in all the years I’d known her, Seo was showing an expression she couldn’t hide.
"T-Then does that an?" she stamred.
"Yes," I said gently.
Her eyes brightened, lips parting as if she was about to say sothing profound—
"We’re going to make babies now?"
"Yes, we’re going to make bab—e-excuse ?"
"I-I may be inexperienced, but please take care of ... and our future child, dear..."
That last word—dear—rolled off her tongue so naturally, so tenderly, it felt as though she had been calling that for years.
"Seo..." I rubbed at my temple, torn between laughter and exasperation. "You do understand what we are now, right?"
She tilted her head, innocent as ever.
"Obviously...?" Then she smiled faintly, as if recalling so secret plan. "Although all my attempts until now may have failed... I’m sure if I hold your hand while in bed this ti, I’ll definitely get pregnant. Don’t worry, dear. Grandpa-the clan head I an and big sister Bom always praise for having a body perfect for baby-making. I’m certain I can bear you a healthy child soon..."
I stared at her, utterly dumbfounded, while she looked at with an expression so pure it was almost painful.
Seo, my Seo...
You are way too innocent.
...
It was already late afternoon.
The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the city in warm orange hues that stretched across the cobbled streets as I walked on my own.
"Wait, Seo... I think you’re under so misunderstanding again."
"Misunderstanding? But aren’t we together now?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then it’s fine if we sleep together tonight, right?" she asked so bluntly that my heart nearly skipped a beat.
"It’s not like we couldn’t, but—"
"Then I’ll see you later."
Before I could finish, Seo had already released , a faint flush blooming on her otherwise expressionless face.
Then, just like that, her figure blurred and disappeared into the crowd with an elegance that would put even assassins to sha.
"...And I’m supposed to be the ascended one here."
I sighed.
I guess girls really do possess godlike powers once they set their minds on sothing.
Not the destructive kind... but the kind that throws my entire world into chaos.
Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside.
Seo was... Seo. I’d have to deal with whatever "preparations" she had in mind tonight. For now, I had other responsibilities.
eting Rose and Seo randomly today had already turned my plans upside down.
I’d broken promises, made new ones, and entangled myself further in ways I hadn’t even thought possible in just a single day.
Knowing Rose, she would no doubt try to cling to the mont we were alone, demanding her share of attention after her supposed generosity earlier.
And at night... well, I had no doubt Seo would co knocking.
I had to at least let Alice and Snow know I’d returned before the rumors reached the first.
Besides, I needed Alice for more than just smoothing out misunderstandings.
My ascension was still new, unstable, and difficult to properly asure.
Training with her would be the most efficient way to not only stabilize my current prowess but also understand how much of my authorities I could truly wield.
She was practically an ascended herself, her connection to her domain deeper than anyone else’s I’d t.
Explaining everything, though... that would be tricky.
From the outside, my words might sound like a jumbled ss of excuses, half-truths, or even plain madness.
But Alice was different.
She had always been sharp, perceptive, and... patient with .
If there was anyone who would understand—even if she teased for it—it would be her.
"Rember, Han... our authority is not perfect. There will co a ti when your lies will have to bow down to the inevitable truth. You are the last among your countless failures... let it be the last."
The goddess’s words echoed into my mind.
I inhaled, then exhaled slowly, steadying my breath.
Yes, I may have beco an ascended. But even then... it wouldn’t be enough. Not yet.
I was still nothing more than a newborn among the many who had long since carved their places in this realm.
An infant standing in the shadows of giants.
My hands were unrefined, my authorities untempered, my very existence still unstable.
There was still so much room to grow.
So much left to confront.
And so much to lose if I wasn’t careful.
Liyana.
Erebil.
Their nas alone were enough to tighten the pressure in my chest.
The future with them was still grim—dark, uncertain, lined with despair.
But for the first ti... my chances weren’t zero.
For the first ti, I had a chance...
...
At the top floor of the Heavenly Hall.
The Student Council’s Office.
The late afternoon sunlight spilled in through the towering crystal windows, illuminating the spotless marble floor and the gilded edges of the grand chamber.
From here, one could see almost the entire sprawl of the academy city below—a miniature empire pulsing with life and ambition.
Most students, at this hour, were scattered in their respective paths.
Juniors and second-years deep within the labyrinthine dungeon examinations.
Third-years sharpening their blades and honing their magic, preparing for the leap to seniority.
And the fourth-years—their final days already upon them—busy weaving the last threads of their legacy before stepping out into the wider world.
Everyone was busy.
Everyone had their own burdens.
But if there was one person in this academy whose workload and responsibilities rivaled—even surpassed—the suffocating strain Principal Leilah herself endured in overseeing the entire city-large institution... it was the council president.
The one whose authority rivaled even that of the academic heads.
The one who carried not just the weight of her peers, but of the entire academy’s order upon her shoulders.
Snow Luvinitia White Germonia.
The First Princess.
Crown Princess of Germonia.
And the immovable student council president, whose presence alone demanded both reverence and fear.
And at this very mont, she sat at her desk, her slender fingers gliding over a mountain of parchnt and crystal tablets, her expression as composed as it was unreadable.
The sun bathed her in a golden glow, as though the heavens themselves bent to highlight her sovereignty.
Her quill didn’t pause.
Her gaze didn’t waver.
She was the epito of beauty, even now, despite the faint shadows beneath her eyes that betrayed her lack of rest.
A soft sigh escaped her lips from ti to ti, delicate yet heavy, like she was letting go of more than just breath.
"Should I even bother running for presidency again this sester?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, carrying both weariness and conviction.
Right now, the office was silent, save for the scratching of her quill and the occasional shuffle of papers.
Alone, she could finally give voice to thoughts she would never allow others to hear.
But almost as soon as the words left her lips, she shook her head, dismissing them.
Such grievances were unbefitting.
As the future empress, her burdens would one day far exceed this mountain of parchnt and ceaseless duty.
If anything, this was rely the beginning—a trial ant to sharpen her for the throne.
She wasn’t truly complaining. Working tirelessly was second nature to her. Yet, the truth lingered, bitter and undeniable.
She was being overworked.
And worse—she was being robbed of the little ti she longed to spend with him.
Riley.
Unlike her co-fiancées, she couldn’t simply slip away to his side whenever she pleased. Responsibility tethered her down, binding her like chains.
A certain quiet unfairness gnawed at her heart.
"...I suppose I should be glad he’s been away for a while at least," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else, her lips curling faintly in resignation.
"Hoh... so you’re glad I’m not around?"
"Hii—haa!"
Her startled cry broke halfway, her voice catching in her throat as her entire body froze.
The warmth of a familiar breath grazed her ear, and before she even turned, she knew.
That voice.
That presence.
That unmistakable calm arrogance.
Her wide eyes spun around—and there he was. Riley.
"You’re back...?"
His smile was as casual as ever, his tone infuriatingly calm. "Haha, sorry if I surprised you."
As he stepped closer, her brows knitted together, composure returning to her features.
She wanted to scold him, to reclaim control of the mont.
"You could’ve used the front door, you know—"
But the words never finished.
A soft, overwhelming warmth pressed against her lips.
Her eyes widened for a heartbeat before fluttering shut, instinctively matching his rhythm.
His kiss was sudden yet steady, familiar yet electrifying, carrying with it all the ti they had lost apart.
Her lips parted without resistance, a small sound slipping from her throat— "hn~"—as his tongue t hers, claiming and entwining.
The office, the papers, the responsibilities—all of it blurred away, replaced by the simple reality of his presence.
The kiss stretched on, lingering, a string of stolen seconds that neither wanted to let go of.
And when at last their lips parted, a thin trail of saliva connected them, glimring in the late afternoon light.
Her chest rose and fell faster than she’d like, her face touched with a faint crimson she quickly tried to mask.
"...What are you doing?" Snow asked, voice steadier than her pounding heart betrayed.
Riley tilted his head, feigning innocence. "You like long kisses, don’t you?"
For a mont, she stared at him, caught between exasperation and warmth.
And then—she smiled. Softly
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