The twentieth birthday banquet of Rachel Creighton, princess of the North and bearer of the title of Saintess, was an event of unparalleled grandeur. The grand ballroom of the Creighton estate shimmered with light, the chandeliers scattering a cascade of gold over the assembled guests. Nobles, dignitaries, and power players from across the world gathered to honor the woman who, at just twenty years old, had surpassed all expectations, standing tall as one of the greatest light magic talents in history. High Ascendant-rank by twenty—a feat that placed her among legends.
And yet, amidst the resplendent festivities, Rachel herself felt a pang of unease.
Today wasn't just about her birthday. She knew that. Arthur had told her what he intended to do, and though she had agreed—understanding the necessity of his actions—it didn't sit comfortably in her heart.
She turned her gaze to him, walking beside her with his usual air of quiet confidence. Dressed in an impeccably tailored midnight-blue coat adorned with subtle silver embroidery, Arthur looked every bit the Guild Grandmaster—a title he had earned through sheer determination, brilliance, and unrelenting ambition. His azure eyes caught hers, and for a moment, the storm within her calmed. He smiled, soft yet assured, and she couldn't help but return it.
"Thank you for supporting me, Rachel," Arthur whispered as he gently took her hand in his, his fingers interlocking with hers.
Her heart skipped a beat. Despite her unease, she squeezed his hand in response. "I will always support you, Arthur," she replied, her voice steady. "Because I trust you."
"And I will ensure that your trust never goes to waste," he said, his tone resolute. There was no fear in his words, no hesitation. Just Arthur being Arthur—unshakable, unyielding.
Together, they stepped toward the grand doors leading into the ballroom. The attendant's voice boomed across the room as the doors swung open.
"Now entering: the princess of the Creighton family, Rachel Creighton, and the Guild Grandmaster, Arthur Nightingale!"
Guild Grandmaster.
The title still carried an almost surreal weight. Arthur had climbed to the pinnacle of the guild system, uniting fractured powers and standing above even the Twelve Great Guilds. His Noctalis had become the axis upon which industries turned, its reach extending far beyond the borders of the Slatemark Empire. Aetherite research, technology, and influence flowed through his network, a web spun with precision and foresight. Yet this empire of his hadn't come without cost.
Rachel's sapphire gaze softened. To bring Noctalis to its throne, Arthur had called upon every favor, leaned on every connection—including hers. Soldiers, resources, influence—she, Seraphina, and Cecilia had all contributed, each trusting in his vision. And true to his word, Arthur had repaid every debt in kind, his genius turning investments into dividends many times over.
The banquet hall erupted in applause as they stepped forward, hand in hand. But as Rachel began to thank the well-wishers, the atmosphere suddenly shifted.
The electric lights dimmed, and a ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Rachel froze, her gaze darting around. The chandeliers flickered, casting the room in soft hues of pink and red. Balloons, delicate and shimmering, descended from above, painting the air with a whimsical charm. The guests gasped in delight, their attention drawn upward.
And then came the sound.
A single, resonant thump.
Rachel turned, her heart pounding, and found herself staring at Arthur. He was no longer standing beside her. He was on one knee.
Her breath caught.
In his hand was a small black box. He opened it with a deft motion, revealing a ring so breathtaking it seemed to capture the very essence of light itself. A pink diamond, nestled in an intricate band of platinum, shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance.
Rachel's hands flew to her mouth as the room fell into an awed silence.
"Rachel Creighton," Arthur began, his voice steady and clear, carrying across the still room. His azure eyes locked onto hers, filled with warmth and conviction. "You have stood by me, trusted me, and believed in me even when I doubted myself. You've been my partner, my light, and my strength."
Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
"You are more than a princess. You are the North's brilliance, a Saintess who illuminates the world with her kindness and strength. And to me, you are everything."
The murmurs in the crowd rose, excitement and disbelief rippling through the room.
Arthur smiled, a soft, genuine smile that was hers alone. "Will you marry me?"
The room held its collective breath. Rachel's heart felt as though it might burst. She stared at him, the man who had defied impossibilities, and saw not just the Guild Grandmaster but her Arthur. The man who had always looked at her as if she were his entire world.
She lowered her hands and, through the tears, managed to speak. "Yes."
The room exploded into applause and cheers, but Rachel hardly noticed. Arthur slipped the ring onto her finger, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. Before she could say another word, he pulled her into an embrace, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.
"I love you," he whispered against her hair, his voice so soft that only she could hear.
Rachel clung to him, her tears soaking into his coat. "I love you too, Arthur."
The cheers of the crowd echoed around them, but for Rachel, the world had narrowed to this moment, this man, and the promise they had just made.
In that instant, as Arthur held her close, Rachel's doubts melted away. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she knew they would face them together.
As Arthur gently released Rachel from their embrace, her gaze dropped to the ring now adorning her finger. It shimmered with a quiet brilliance, catching the light like a captured star. She turned her hand slowly, studying it with growing fondness. But as her mana flared instinctively, she paused, sensing the artifact's faint hum of power.
'Historic-grade,' she realized, her sapphire eyes widening in awe. The artifact's abilities were subtle but profound: healing its wearer in times of danger, alerting a linked artifact in emergencies, and conjuring a protective bubble strong enough to fend off even a mid-tier Ascendant-ranker. Simple, yes, but elegantly effective—just like the man who had given it to her.
Arthur, ever perceptive, caught her expression and offered a lopsided grin. "I thought it might be useful," he said lightly, as though he hadn't just given her something priceless.
Rachel's lips curled into a smile as she shook her head fondly. "Always thinking ahead," she murmured, her voice warm.
Before she could say more, the sound of approaching heels drew her attention. Turning, she saw two familiar figures stepping into the center of the hall. Cecilia and Seraphina.
Cecilia's emerald eyes sparkled with mischief, though there was a flicker of something softer beneath as her gaze fell on the ring. "Well, well," she drawled, her voice lilting. "I see you've started without us."
Seraphina, quieter as ever, offered Rachel a gentle nod before her silver eyes shifted to Arthur. There was no teasing in her expression, only quiet expectation.
Arthur straightened, the weight of the moment settling over him once more. The cheers and murmurs from the crowd still swirled around them, but he tuned it all out as he turned his attention fully to the two women before him.
Cecilia folded her arms, though her playful demeanor couldn't mask the faint longing in her gaze as it flicked to Rachel's ring. "So," she said, her tone airy but her intent clear, "what's next, Grandmaster? Are you planning to leave us out of the festivities?"
Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not at all," he replied, his voice steady and warm. Then, to the astonishment of the onlookers, he dropped to one knee once more.
The hall fell silent again, the weight of the moment pulling all attention toward the trio. Arthur, now kneeling before Cecilia and Seraphina, reached into his coat and produced two more small boxes. The crowd gasped, whispers rippling through the room like waves across a still lake.
Cecilia blinked, her teasing demeanor faltering for a moment as genuine surprise crossed her face. Seraphina, though composed, seemed to hold her breath.
Arthur looked up at them, his azure eyes filled with the same unwavering confidence he had shown Rachel just moments before. But there was more this time—an unspoken understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the unique bond he shared with each of them.
"Cecilia Slatemark," he began, his voice clear and steady, "you have been my partner in crime, my fiercest ally, and my greatest challenger. Your strength, your brilliance, and your fire have pushed me to become better every step of the way."
Cecilia's lips parted slightly, her usual sharp wit momentarily failing her.
Arthur turned his gaze to Seraphina. "And Seraphina Zenith," he continued, his tone softening, "you've been my compass, my calm amidst the storm. Your wisdom, your patience, and your quiet strength have been a light in my darkest moments."
The crowd watched in stunned silence as Arthur opened the boxes, revealing two equally stunning rings, each unique yet no less radiant than Rachel's. Cecilia's ring bore a brilliant green emerald, encased in a twisting band of gold that shimmered like sunlight on water. Seraphina's was adorned with a silver moonstone, its surface catching the light in a way that seemed almost ethereal.
"These rings," Arthur said, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment, "are more than a promise. They're a vow. To stand by you, to honor you, and to walk beside you—always."
Cecilia's gaze softened, her playful mask slipping entirely. "You really know how to leave a girl speechless," she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically tender.
Seraphina's silver eyes shimmered, and for a moment, it seemed as though she might cry. But instead, she simply nodded, her lips curving into a small, heartfelt smile.
Arthur looked at them both, his hand outstretched, offering not just the rings but everything he was. "Will you marry me?"
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then Cecilia stepped forward, her usual confidence returning as she grinned. "How could I possibly say no to a proposal this dramatic?" she teased, though her voice was thick with emotion. She took the ring, slipping it onto her finger with a flourish.
Seraphina followed, her movements graceful and deliberate. She took the ring, her fingers brushing Arthur's as she slid it onto her hand. "Yes," she said softly, her voice steady and full of quiet conviction. "I will."
The room erupted into cheers once more, the crowd swept up in the spectacle of it all. But for Arthur, Rachel, Cecilia, and Seraphina, the noise faded into the background. This moment—this impossible, extraordinary moment—was theirs alone.