The Extra's Rise-Chapter 363: Winter Break (3)

Suspiciously, all four girls claimed exhaustion almost simultaneously after the grand tour of the penthouse.

"I'm absolutely drained from the journey," Cecilia announced with a dramatic sigh that didn't quite match her energetic demeanor.

"The altitude change is quite taxing," Seraphina added, despite the fact that we'd been at roughly the same elevation at Mythos Academy.

Rachel nodded earnestly. "Travel fatigue is a genuine physiological response."

Even Rose, usually the most honest of the four, murmured something about "needing to rest before dinner."

Their synchronized desire for "rest" raised every red flag in my mental arsenal. These were the same girls who could train for six hours straight or dance through royal galas until dawn without showing a hint of fatigue. Yet a three-hour car ride had supposedly exhausted them?

Unfortunately, their tactical retreat presented a logistical challenge. Although my family's penthouse was spacious by any reasonable standard—spanning two floors with panoramic views of the city—it wasn't designed to accommodate a royal entourage. With five bedrooms total (the master suite, my room, Aria's room, and two guest rooms), the math was simple and unforgiving.

"We'll need to share rooms," I pointed out, expecting at least token resistance from young women accustomed to private suites larger than most apartments.

"Well, alright," Cecilia sighed with suspicious acceptance. "A small price to pay."

The three other girls nodded in agreement as if sharing accommodations was the most natural thing in the world—a reaction so out of character that I nearly checked for mind-control spells. Princesses and nobility, who normally required private quarters with specific amenities, were suddenly amenable to roommates?

"So how do we divide?" Seraphina asked, her ice-blue eyes calculating something I couldn't quite decipher.

"I think Rachel should be with Cecilia," Rose suggested, her tone gentle but with an undercurrent of strategic purpose that wasn't lost on me.

Rachel's head snapped up, sapphire eyes widening in genuine alarm. "What? No! I don't deserve this punishment."

"Don't be like this, Ray-Ray," Cecilia cooed, using the nickname that never failed to make Rachel wince. "We'll have so much fun." Her crimson eyes gleamed with mischief as she seized Rachel's wrist and physically began tugging her toward one of the guest rooms.

Rachel shot me a pleading look over her shoulder that would have melted stone. I pretended not to notice—choosing between Cecilia and Rachel in any capacity was a losing proposition.

"Come along, Rose," Seraphina said with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. "I'm sure we'll find our accommodations quite adequate."

The four girls waved goodbye as Aria, barely containing her amusement, led them to their respective rooms. Her expression as she passed me communicated clearly: This is better than any reality show.

Left suddenly alone, I made my way to the kitchen where my parents were preparing dinner. The familiar scent of my mother's signature roast and my father's experimental sauce wafted through the air—normalcy that felt increasingly precious given the four potential diplomatic incidents currently settling into our guest rooms.

"So," I said, sliding onto one of the kitchen island stools, "you've met my four friends now."

My mother looked up from the vegetables she was arranging, a proud smile illuminating her face. "Yes, and what lovely friends you've made at Mythos, Arthur. Two princesses last time, and now four distinguished young ladies all at once."

"Alice," my father interjected, his brow furrowed as he stirred his sauce with more vigor than necessary, "this is a bit more of an issue than you're acknowledging."

My mother shot him a pointed look that I recognized all too well—the silent communication of a couple who'd been together long enough to have entire arguments without a word.

"Come now, Douglas," she replied, setting down her knife. "At this rate, won't we have many adorable grandchildren to spoil? Think of the possibilities."

I choked on the water I'd just sipped, coughing violently as my mother patted my back with maternal efficiency.

"I mean, look how lovely they all are," she continued as if she hadn't just casually suggested I was cultivating a harem rather than friendships. "Each with such striking features—what unique combinations they could create!"

"Mother," I managed weakly, once I could breathe again.

"Just imagine," she persisted, eyes gleaming with a disturbing matchmaking fervor. "Little ones with crimson, sapphire, ice-blue, or warm brown eyes... With black, auburn, golden, or silver hair... The genetic diversity alone is fascinating!"

My father shot me a sympathetic glance. "Alice, perhaps we shouldn't speculate about our son's future family planning over dinner prep."

"Oh, I'm just thinking ahead," my mother replied with a casual wave that belied the calculating gleam in her eyes. "It's not every day your son brings home four exceptional young women who clearly adore him."

"They have security details, don't they?" Aria asked as she slid into her chair, eyes bright with mischief. "I noticed the unmarked cars down the street."

"Yes, though not in the penthouse itself," I confirmed with a sigh. "Their status requires certain... precautions."

My father's expression grew more serious. "I understand you all grew close when you were in that coma, Arthur, but this situation seems..." He trailed off, clearly searching for a diplomatic word.

"Complicated?" I offered.

"Entertaining," Aria corrected with a grin. "Do you have any idea how popular you've become? Every girl at Slatemark Academy asks me about you. I could set you up with dozens of admirers if you're interested."

"Absolutely not," I replied firmly.

"Yes, I suppose your schedule is quite full with the current four," Aria giggled, clearly relishing my discomfort.

'You could handle more,' Luna commented in my mind, her spectral voice tinged with amusement.

I ignored her, focusing instead on my water glass with sudden intensity.

"Let's change the subject," my father suggested, mercifully steering the conversation away from my complicated love life—or lack thereof, depending on how one viewed the situation. "What are your plans for the remainder of winter break, Arthur?"

I straightened slightly, grateful for the redirect. "After this week, I'll begin specialized training under the Martial King. Then I'm scheduled to formally receive the Medal for Merit from the Slatemark Empire and the Star of Valor from the Western Continent for my... contributions."

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

My words sounded hollow even to my own ears. "Contributions" hardly captured the reality of what had transpired—the bloodshed, the difficult choices, the lives lost and saved. But those weren't topics for the dinner table.

"Two of the highest civilian military honors at sixteen," Aria said, her teasing tone temporarily replaced with something like genuine respect. "It's unprecedented. Father, didn't you say the last person to receive both was General Hawthorne, and that was after three decades of service?"

My father nodded, his expression a complex mixture of pride and concern. "Your trajectory is rather extraordinary, Arthur. Though I must admit, your mother and I worry about the attention it brings. These honors typically come with significant public ceremonies."

"Well, I have to get used to it for the future," I said with a small smile.

Once the dishes were done and my parents retired to their study, I went to my room.

I pushed open my bedroom door, already mentally prepared to sleep—

—and froze in the doorway.

My bedroom, my private sanctuary, had been invaded.

Cecilia lounged on my bed, propped against my pillows in a crimson silk nightgown that would have given the academy prefects a collective heart attack. Rachel sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed in a more modest but equally striking sapphire nightdress, sorting through what appeared to be my childhood photo albums. Seraphina stood by my bookshelf, examining my collection in a silver-gray nightgown that shimmered with her slightest movement. And Rose, sweet, supposedly sensible Rose, sat at my desk chair in a delicate rose-gold nightdress, apparently reading my journal.

Four pairs of eyes turned to me as the door swung fully open.

"Arthur," Cecilia purred, patting the spot beside her on the bed. "We've been waiting for you."

The door clicked shut behind me with a finality that sounded suspiciously like my fate being sealed.