The Extra's Rise

Chapter 91 Homecoming (7)

Aria and I returned to the apartment, arms laden with bags of food, only to step into a scene that could best be described as… eerie. The house, previously lively with conversation and the occasional teasing remark, was now blanketed in an unsettling silence. Rachel and Cecilia were seated in the living room, neither speaking, just staring at each other with expressions that hinted at some recent battlefield-level conflict—or possibly an overly intense game of verbal chess.

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath.

'Looks like something interesting happened while you were gone,' Luna whispered smugly in my head, her voice carrying that infuriating lilt of someone who knew far more than they were letting on. My brows furrowed as I did my best to ignore her commentary.

"We're back!" Aria chirped, skipping ahead of me and setting down her bags on the table. Her bubbly energy seemed almost comically out of place in the quiet tension that hung over the room like a poorly installed chandelier.

Rachel blinked as though waking from a trance, her sapphire eyes shifting to Aria with a bright smile that didn't quite mask the faint blush still lingering on her cheeks. "Oh, welcome back! Did you manage to get everything?"

"Yep!" Aria beamed, already tearing into one of the bags. "We brought enough to feed an army—or at least you two princesses."

Cecilia stretched lazily, her golden hair catching the light as she leaned back on the couch, an easy smirk settling on her lips. "Took you long enough. We were about to start planning our escape route in case you'd decided to abandon us here."

"You're welcome to escape anytime," I said dryly, setting my own bags down. "But then who'll help us eat all this overpriced food?"

Cecilia shot me a mock glare, her crimson eyes glinting. "You're lucky I'm feeling charitable today, Nightingale."

Rachel let out a small laugh, the tension in the room finally easing as Aria began pulling out containers of food like a magician revealing an endless string of handkerchiefs. Within moments, the living room was transformed into an impromptu banquet hall, the air filled with the smell of delicious food and the sound of Aria gleefully narrating every item.

The four of us settled in, and for a while, it was surprisingly normal. Cecilia made her usual sharp comments, Rachel countered with her gentle but firm retorts, and Aria, bless her enthusiasm, tried her best to referee the unending battle of wills. I mostly focused on eating, occasionally chiming in to keep things from escalating into all-out chaos.

It was during one of Cecilia's more exaggerated rants about "the absolute travesty of modern party etiquette" that Rachel suddenly perked up, her sapphire eyes lighting with an idea. "Speaking of parties," she began, "why don't we host a New Year's party at the Creighton estate?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "A party at your estate? Isn't that a bit… formal?"

Rachel shook her head, her golden hair shimmering in the light. "Not formal. Just for Class 1-A students. Something fun. We've been through a lot this year, and it'd be nice to have something to look forward to before the next term starts."

Cecilia tapped her chin thoughtfully, her smirk widening. "I like it. A little gathering of the elite, away from the prying eyes of the academy."

Aria, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. "Oh, can I come too? Please? Pretty please? I'll even behave!"

"You're not in Class 1-A," I pointed out, earning a dramatic pout from her.

"Let her come," Rachel said with a soft smile. "She's family."

Aria beamed at Rachel as if she'd just been handed the keys to a kingdom. "You're the best, Saintess!"

"Fine," Cecilia drawled, waving a hand dismissively. "But only if she promises not to embarrass herself—or us."

Aria stuck her tongue out at Cecilia, and I sighed, already anticipating the chaos this so-called "relaxing party" was going to unleash.

But as I watched Rachel and Cecilia discussing decorations and themes with an enthusiasm that bordered on conspiratorial, I couldn't help but feel a small flicker of gratitude. For all their differences and occasional hostility, they'd found common ground—if only for the sake of something as simple as a party. And maybe, just maybe, this year would end on a good note after all.

Cecilia tilted her head, crimson hair cascading like a velvet curtain, and her gaze fixed on me with unsettling clarity. Yet, for once, it wasn't the gaze of someone looking at a particularly interesting toy. No, this was different. Focused,