Chapter 83: A Confession of Love

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: A Confession of Love

Morning in the Imperial Dormitory

Theon woke to the faint clink of porcelain and the smell of warm tea. For a moment he stayed still, eyes half-open, letting the soft morning light settle over the chamber. Ifrith was already there, moving with his usual quiet efficiency, a tray resting neatly on the low table beside the bed.

"Master," Ifrith said, bowing his head, "tea is ready."

Theon pushed himself up slowly, still carrying the weight of sleep in his limbs. "Mm. Good."

He reached for the cup and held it for a moment, letting the heat seep into his hands. The tea carried a gentle fragrance, mild and comforting, enough to clear the last traces of drowsiness from his mind. He took a sip, then another, and the warmth spread through him with every swallow.

Outside, the academy was beginning to wake. A distant murmur of voices drifted in through the windows, along with the soft sound of footsteps in the corridor. Theon set the cup down, rose from the bed, and dressed with practiced ease. By the time he adjusted his sleeves and fastened the final clasp, he looked more composed than he felt.

When he stepped out of his chamber, Lyra was already waiting in the hall.

She stood with her hands folded behind her back, expression bright and expectant, as if she had been there long enough to memorize the rhythm of his footsteps.

"Big brother, are you ready?" she asked.

Theon blinked once, then gave a small nod. His voice was still a little low from sleep. "Yes, I am. Let’s go."

Lyra smiled immediately and took his hand with the kind of cheerful certainty only she could manage so early in the morning. Theon glanced at her, caught by that easy affection, and his expression softened before he could stop it. He stuttered once under his breath, then let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh and returned her smile.

Together, they headed down the corridor and almost out into the academy morning.

They had only taken a few steps when Theon suddenly stopped.

His attention shifted toward the narrow door beside his chamber. It stood in its usual place, plain and silent, yet somehow that silence felt heavier than before. He stared at it, brows drawing together, as though the door had called to him without making a sound.

Lyra noticed the change in him at once. "Big brother?"

Before Theon could answer, Ifrith appeared behind him, as quiet as a shadow.

"Master," Ifrith said carefully, "shall we finally figure out what is within this door now?"

Theon’s gaze remained fixed on the surface of the door. His voice was calm, but there was authority in it, and caution too. "No. We’ll figure it out when I’m back. For now, just leave it as it is."

Ifrith lowered his head at once. "Understood."

Theon turned away, though his eyes lingered on the door for another second before he finally moved on. There were too many things in this world that asked to be opened at the wrong time. That door could wait.

The imperial academy was already alive with movement by the time they reached its grounds. Students crossed the courtyards in clusters, chatting, laughing, or hurrying with books pressed to their chests. Sunlight spilled across the stone paths and rooftops, catching on the polished edges of windows and the faint frost still gathered in some shaded corners.

Theon and Lyra walked together through the open space, heading toward his classroom. Nothing about the morning seemed unusual. It was the kind of ordinary, peaceful beginning that almost made him let his guard down.

Almost.

Then something grabbed his hand.

Theon blinked in surprise and looked down.

A girl was holding onto him.

She had golden hair that seemed to shine even brighter under the daylight, a rich, radiant color that made it hard to see anything else clearly. For a brief moment, the brilliance of it obscured her face, leaving Theon with only the impression of movement, urgency, and a grip that had no intention of letting go.

Before he could ask a single question, she started running.

Theon was dragged forward in an instant, his steps forced into a hurried rhythm as the world shifted around him. Students turned to stare. The path blurred. He had no idea what was happening, no idea why he was being pulled along by a stranger who moved with such determined speed.

"Wait—what are you doing?" he said, confusion tightening his voice.

Behind them, Lyra’s expression changed in a heartbeat.

"Let my brother go!" she shouted, immediately chasing after them.

The girl called back without slowing down, "Please! Just give me a moment with him!. It’s important!"

Lyra narrowed her eyes while sprinting after them, but after a quick observation, her expression shifted. The girl’s aura carried no hostility. No killing intent. No threat. That alone made Lyra hesitate just enough to let them continue.

Still, she didn’t stop chasing.

The World Archive flashed in Theon’s mind with its usual offensive timing.

{Master, you are being dragged away by a cutie. What are you going to do about it?}

Theon stared ahead, expression going flat. What exactly do you expect me to do about it?

A second voice cut in, confused and old-fashioned.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

Theon’s eyelid twitched. Shut up, Cryvathar. Not you.

The World Archive, clearly pleased with itself, answered as if this were an amusing game.

{~You can eliminate her, you know.}

Theon’s irritation sharpened instantly. Your autonomous intelligence is really getting out of hand, you know.

{And whose fault do you think it is, Master?}

Theon ground his teeth. I should never have sealed you off that time.

{Understood, Master.}

Then, after a tiny pause, the Archive asked again, as if the previous exchange had been a perfectly normal introduction.

{What do you plan to do?}

Theon looked ahead, watched the golden-haired girl continue dragging him toward the academy gate, and exhaled through his nose. Just keep quiet and let me see what she wants.

The Confession Location

The girl eventually led him beyond the busy academy paths and into an open field.

A huge tree stood there all alone, its broad branches covered in snow and frost. The sight of it was strangely beautiful, like something out of a quiet winter painting. The girl finally stopped beneath it, her breathing uneven from the run.

Theon steadied himself and looked at her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "Yes."

Then she lifted her head.

Theon finally saw her face clearly.

She was beautiful. Strikingly so.

Golden hair framed her features, while her eyes held an unusual mix of crimson and sapphire-blue that made them impossible to forget. There was elegance in the shape of her face, in the way she stood, in the way even her exhaustion seemed graceful rather than messy. Theon stared at her in complete silence.

Then he took a step back.

Then another.

Before he knew it, his back hit the tree trunk behind him.

Is there really a girl this beautiful in this world? he thought, stunned.

Cryvathar clicked his tongue in his head. "Get yourself together, young boy."

Theon’s thoughts sharpened into defensive embarrassment. You fell in love with your enemy. So why can’t I be amazed at her beauty?

"Ah," Cryvathar sighed, sounding amused. "Young kids of these days."

Theon ignored him and looked at the girl again, trying to gather himself.

She inhaled slowly, then straightened her posture with visible effort. Whatever she had dragged him here for, it was clearly important.

Celestial Elarian

"My name is Celestial Elarian," she said, her tone careful and noble despite the breathlessness still lingering in it.

Theon repeated the name silently in his mind.

Clestia Elarion.

It sounded familiar.

Then she continued, "I am the daughter of the Supreme Priest of the Holy Realm of Eiraveile."

The moment she said Eiraveile, memory stirred.

The empire contained nine realms. Four of them were known as especially powerful, their influence extending far beyond their borders. Eiraveile was among them, a place of sacred authority and political weight. That alone made the girl standing before him far more important than her hurried arrival had suggested.

Theon’s expression changed. His tone became measured and respectful. "What would the Holy Daughter of the Supreme Priest want with me?"

Celestial’s cheeks flushed faintly, though she still tried to keep her composure. "I’m sorry for dragging you here like this."

"It’s fine," Theon said, his voice gentler now. "Just tell me what you want."

Clestia lowered her gaze.

Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides, and for a second she looked like she might lose her courage entirely. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again.

"Um..."

A pink tint rose to her cheeks. She took a breath, then another, gathering herself piece by piece.

"I brought you here because there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you."

Theon waited.

The wind moved through the field, brushing softly against the frost-covered grass. Somewhere above them, the tree branches creaked faintly under the weight of snow.

Clestia voice trembled just a little as she finally said it.

"I like you."

Silence followed.

The moment stretched.

The wind passed between them, carrying a thin spray of frost across the ground, as if the world itself had paused to listen. Theon stared at her, unable to move, unable to answer, his mind caught between surprise and disbelief.

His thoughts drifted before he could stop them.

He had never been confessed to.

Not once.

He remembered his previous life where money had always been a problem, where even the smallest comforts had sometimes been out of reach. He remembered standing in streets and marketplaces while other people laughed, passing him by without a second glance. He remembered faces wrinkling in mockery, girls turning away, some even covering their noses as though his very presence was unpleasant.

Those memories never sat at the front of his mind for long, but they were there. Quiet. Heavy. Shaping him in ways he rarely admitted.

What should I do?

What should I say?

How am I supposed to reply to a girl feelings?

He had no experience with this kind of thing. No memory of ever being prepared for it. Even now, standing in front of someone who looked at him with sincere hope, he felt utterly unqualified.

Rejects Her

Theon closed his eyes for a moment.

He thought about everything tied to his life now—the battles, the enemies, the dangers he could not fully predict, the strange forces always circling him like vultures waiting for weakness. If he accepted her feelings, what would happen to her? What would he drag her into?

He opened his eyes and looked at Clestia.

Her expression was still flushed, still hopeful, still waiting.

His chest tightened.

When he spoke, his voice was cold on purpose.

"No."

Clestia blinked. "What?"

"I’m sorry, but I’m not interested."

Her hopeful expression faltered. "Why?"

"You should find someone better suited for you."

Clestia frowned, hurt flashing across her face, but she did not retreat. "Who else would be better suited for me than the Seventh Prince of the Empire?"

Theon’s jaw tightened.

"I can’t inherit the throne," he said. "The throne already belongs to my older siblings. I’m only the seventh prince. What could I possibly do against six people ahead of me?"

Clestia took a small step closer. "You don’t know that. You don’t know what the future holds."

There was something almost desperate in her voice now, but she still held herself together. Even so, the emotion in her face was plain.

"Just one day," she said softly. "Even if it’s only for one day."

Theon stared at her, deeply unsettled.

*Can Girls really be this persistent when they want something?

Cryvathar answered immediately, sounding far too casual. "I think you should go ahead with it."

Theon’s expression darkened. *With all the danger coming my way? No.*

"Then you just have to protect her," Cryvathar said, as if that solved everything.

Theon let out a breath of irritation. *Easy for you to say."

Then his thoughts hardened.

Five years already gone from his life span He could not use magic the way he once could. He could not rely on what had been stolen from him.

All thanks to someone.

The silence in his mind deepened.

Cryvathar said nothing.

Theon looked at Clestia for a long moment.

Then he lowered his head.

"I’m sorry."

He turned and ran.

"Theon!" Celestial called after him, her voice breaking through the cold air. "Theon, don’t go, please!"

He stopped for only a heartbeat.

Then he turned back, bowed his head again, and repeated quietly, "I’m sorry."

After that, he ran toward the academy halls, his steps fast and uneven, his chest tight with something he refused to name. Behind him, Clestia stood in the frost-covered field, her hands clenched at her sides, her face shining with hurt.

Far from the field, beyond the academy’s open edge, someone had been watching.

A boy stood near the fence, hidden just enough by shadow and distance to remain unnoticed. His hair was sapphire-blue. His eyes were crimson, sharp and cold. He watched Theon disappear into the academy grounds, then slowly clenched his jaw.

"So it’s you," he said under his breath.

His gaze hardened.

"You are actually the reason."

The air around him seemed to tighten with the weight of his anger.

" I’ll make you pay for this, Seventh Prince."

And with that promise hanging in the cold morning air, the field remained silent once more.