Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 120: Junior Sorceress Melisa Blackflame, Part Six

{Armia}

Armia was nervous as she made her way to Headmistress Eliana’s office, her mind racing with possibilities.

[What could she want with me?] Armia wondered, her hands tightening into fists. [I haven’t done anything wrong... have I?]

She’d been summoned out of the blue, with no explanation given, and the uncertainty was driving her mad.

As she reached Eliana’s door, Armia took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

[... I mean, come on. It’s not like I’m about to get expelled or anything. Relax.]

She raised her hand to knock, but before she could, the door swung open, revealing the headmistress herself.

"Ah, Miss Duskscale," Eliana said, her piercing eyes fixing on Armia with an intensity that made the young darian want to squirm. "Please, come in."

Armia nodded, stepping into the office with her head held high. She was determined to face whatever this was with dignity and grace, befitting a proper lady.

But as she crossed the threshold, Armia’s eyes widened in surprise. Sitting in one of the plush armchairs in front of Eliana’s desk was none other than General Neal Ironheart himself.

Armia’s eyes opened widely.

[... OH!] She realized. [THE OFFER! From the letter!]

In all honesty, she’d almost pushed that matter entirely from her mind due to the recent news of her presentation; the one with Isabella.

Simultaneously, she both calmed down and started panicking.

He stood as she entered, his imposing figure towering over her. Armia couldn’t help but feel a flicker of intimidation, even as she tried to maintain her composure.

"Miss Duskscale," Neal said, his voice deep and resonant. "Thank you for coming."

Armia nodded, her throat suddenly dry. She glanced at Eliana, hoping for some kind of explanation, but the headmistress’s expression was unreadable.

"General Ironheart has requested a private audience with you," Eliana said, her tone crisp and businesslike. "I’ll leave you two to discuss whatever matters you need to."

Armia’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The headmistress, leaving her own office so that Neal could speak with Armia alone?

[What in the seven hells is going on?] she thought, her mind reeling.

New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on ƒгeewebnovёl.com.

But Eliana seemed unfazed by the unusual request. She simply nodded at Neal, then at Armia, before sweeping out of the room with a swish of her robes.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Armia alone with the imposing general. For a long moment, Armia just stared at him.

He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his own back.

"I apologize for not coming to see you sooner," Neal said finally, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I know my letter must have left you with a lot of questions."

Armia swallowed hard, trying to find her voice.

"It’s... it’s fine," she said. "I understand that you’re a busy man, General."

Neal’s lips twitched, as if he found something amusing about her response. But he didn’t comment on it, instead gesturing for her to take a seat in the chair opposite him.

Armia did so, perching on the edge of the cushion with her back straight. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some kind of test, that every move she made was being judged and evaluated.

"So," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Uh, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Neal leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he fixed her with an intense, searching gaze.

"I’ll be direct, Miss Duskscale," he said, his voice low and serious. "I’m here to make you an offer. I..."

He inhaled slowly.

"I’d like it if you’d marry me."

"..."

Armia’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock.

Of all the things she’d expected Neal to say, that had been the last on her list.

"M-marry you?" Armia sputtered, disbelief flooding her heart. "I... I don’t understand."

Neal leaned back in his chair, his expression calm and collected.

"I know it must come as a surprise," he said, his voice gentle. "But hear me out, Miss Duskscale. Your actions at the gala were nothing short of heroic. You saved countless lives that night, including the king’s."

Armia shook her head, a flush rising to her cheeks.

"I didn’t do much," she said, her voice small. "It was Melisa who saved the king, not me. I just... I just did what anyone would have done."

Neal’s lips curved into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Miss Duskscale," he said, his tone firm but kind. "Taking down that assassin was just as important as what your friend did. Without you, Melisa’s victory would have been short-lived."

It was still hard for Armia herself to see it that way, but, well, she wasn’t going to start debating it.

"I... I suppose you’re right," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "But still, I don’t understand what that has to do with... with marriage."

Neal’s expression turned serious, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her shiver.

"I couldn’t help but feel like your deeds were going to go unrewarded," he said, his voice low and earnest. "And then I remembered something you said, back at the gala. About how you wanted to become a noblewoman."

Armia’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Explore more at novelbuddy

She’d almost forgotten about that conversation, about the way she’d confessed her deepest desire to this man she barely knew.

"I... I did say that," she admitted, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "But I never thought..."

"That it could actually happen?" Neal finished for her, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Well, Miss Duskscale, I’m here to tell you that it can. Marrying me would be the single easiest way for you to achieve that goal. It would be done in an instant."

Armia’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

"But... but why me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you want to marry someone like me?"

Neal’s expression softened, his eyes filling with a warmth that made Armia’s stomach flutter.

"Well, for starters, you’re unlike any other woman I’ve met in this city. In more ways than one," he shamelessly stated with a shrug. "You’re brave, and strong, and kind. And..."

He paused, his gaze flickering over her face with an intensity that made her shiver.

"And because I’m not getting any younger," he said, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "My hair is more white than grey these days, and I have no children to carry on my legacy. Marrying you... it would be a win-win situation as far as I can see, Miss Duskscale. You would get the nobility you’ve always dreamed of, and I..."

He trailed off, his eyes darkening with something that made Armia’s breath catch in her throat.

"And you would get kids?" she finished for him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Through... Through me?"

Neal nodded, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Exactly," he said, his voice low and rough. "It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement, Miss Duskscale. One that could change both of our lives for the better."

Armia’s mind was reeling.

She couldn’t deny the appeal of Neal’s offer, couldn’t ignore the way her heart raced at the thought of becoming a Lady.

But...

[Like this? Is this how I want to do it?]

She wasn’t exactly too sure about that. Not that she disliked Neal, as a person, but...

[It doesn’t feel right.]

And yet, he hadn’t lied.

Marrying him would be the single easiest way to achieve everything Armia ever wanted.

"I... I need time to think about this," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It’s... it’s a lot to take in."

Neal nodded, rising from his chair with some grace.

"Of course," he said, his voice gentle. "Take all the time you need, Miss Duskscale. I don’t expect an answer right away."

He crossed the room, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor. As he reached the door, he paused, turning back to look at her with a little smile.

"But don’t take too long," he said, his voice low and full of promise. "I’m a patient man, Miss Duskscale, but even I have my limits."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Armia alone with her racing thoughts and the memory of his intense, smoldering gaze.

She sat there for a long moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Marriage... to General Neal Ironheart.

[What would it be like?] she wondered, her mind conjuring up images of herself draped in fine silks and jewels, standing at Neal’s side as his wife and partner. [To be a Lady, to have the respect and admiration of everyone around me?]

It was a heady thought, one that made her heart race and her palms sweat.

But, the way to achieve it...

Armia wasn’t exactly in love with the idea.