Chapter 476: Reveal One
When late morning arrived, the sky became a bit cloudier. The golden sunlight that had filled the reception area softened, diffused through a thin layer of pale gray.
Cecilia was invited to sit on a rooftop, tucked under a large fabric canopy that rippled softly in the breeze. The space was open but sheltered, furnished with comfortable wicker chairs arranged around a low table.
Potted lavender lined the edges, their faint fragrance mixing with the cool, clean air. A bit more of a private but also relaxing place.
She was alone for now. Lilyca had been whisked away by her priest attendants for her morning lessons. Just ordinary lessons any eight-year-old would receive, mathematics and language arts and, well perhaps handwriting drills? Things third graders do these days.
There was no special treatment for a Saintess, Cecilia had noted and quietly approved. The Hunter Association, for all its power and reach, seemed to understand that even holy children needed to learn their multiplication tables.
Compared to her own childhood, it was striking. Cecilia had been enrolled in the temple academy, where she and other privileged priests-in-training could access the grand library and advocate for experts to serve as their tutors.
It had been a good education, but it had required constant advocacy. Constant justification. Constantly proving that she needed and was worthy of the resources she requested.
Lilyca would receive an even better education here, she was certain, without the need to fight for every scrap of knowledge. Later when she returned, she would make sure the real Lilyca also got the same treatment.
She was still lost in that thought when a pair of warm hands closed gently over her eyes from behind.
"Eastiel?" She smiled, reaching up to touch his fingers.
Since Damon had told her it was better for someone to be with her, she had messaged her boyfriends in the group chat, asking if any of them had time.
Arkai had replied that he could leave work at lunchtime but not sooner. Oathran hadn’t responded at all, probably still inside a rift with no cell service, one he planned to close this morning.
So there was only one left. He had replied immediately, "Gotchu bbgirl."
Sometimes, having three hus—boyfriends was very, very good.
"Hehe, you know me so well," Eastiel’s voice came from behind her, his hands stayed firmly over her eyes.
"Any time now?" She tapped the back of his hand.
"Wait a bit." He shifted behind her, his lion tail brushing against her ankle. "So, Damon asked me for something before I climbed the stairs here. He said the news he’s going to break to you is surprising."
"Mm-hm." Cecilia nodded beneath his palms. "I can’t guess, though. I commend him."
Eastiel laughed. "I knew it! You don’t know everything after all!"
She smiled and leaned back against her chair, letting her weight settle into the cushions. "Alright. Are you going to close my eyes until the surprise is ready?"
"Yup." His voice softened. "But... are you okay, though? These days have been... quite a rollercoaster for you."
"For all of us. Not just me," Cecilia answered quietly.
"True..." Eastiel sighed. She felt his tail curl around her calf. "I’m just glad you’re with us now..."
"I’m also glad to have the three of you." She reached up and rubbed his arm, her thumb tracing the fabric of his sleeve. "Really."
Eastiel flinched. His hands twitched against her face, not pulling away, but reacting to something. "Oh, here they ar—"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE IS DATING THREE MEN—WHICH BASTARDS ARE PLAYING WITH HER PURE HEA—"
Cecilia and Eastiel froze at the same time.
That voice—
His hands dropped from her eyes. Both of them stood, her chair scraping against the stone floor, and rushed to the railing of the rooftop.
Below, in the open courtyard in front of the building, a mighty old weretiger was roaring at Damon with a file clutched in one clawed hand.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, his tiger ears pressed flat against his skull in fury. His tail lashed behind him like a whip, and his dark eyes blazed with incredulous rage.
Damon stood before him, already anticipated exactly this reaction and was already calculating the cost of the property damage.
Cecilia blinked down at the scene.
Eastiel tilted his head in confusion, his lion ears swiveling forward.
The old weretiger flipped through the file in his hands, his mouth moving as he read. Then his roar shattered the quiet morning air—
"EASTIEL EDEN—HUH?! ARKAI DAWNO—THAT’S MY COUSIN FIVE TIMES REMOVED—A DRAGON?! THE WHITE MIST—"
He stopped. His face went through several distinct expressions in rapid succession. Fury, disbelief, horror—
"FATHER-IN-LAW!"
Cecilia’s voice tore across the courtyard like a thunderclap, reverberating off the stone walls and sending a flock of startled birds scattering from the rooftop. It even made Eastiel flinch sideways so hard his lion tail puffed to twice its normal size.
Down in the courtyard, both Damon and the old weretiger flinched in sync. Their heads snapped upward, their argument forgotten, their eyes widening as they took in the scene unfolding on the rooftop above them.
Cecilia was trying to climb the railings and—"DID YOU FAKE YOUR DEATH?!" she screamed down at him, her voice cracking on the word death like a branch snapping under too much weight. "YOU DARE FAKE YOUR DEATH ON ME?! DAMON IONDORA, IS THIS YOUR IDEA?!"
"CECILIA! CALM DOWN—CALM—" Eastiel lunged forward, his arms wrapping around her waist, his lion tail lashing for balance as he tried to pull her back from the railing without hurting her or the baby.
"LESSER GODDESS—PLEASE WAIT—WE CAN EXPLAI—" Damon’s voice rose from below, his hands raised in the universal gesture of a man trying to defuse a bomb.
"THE RAILING—" Damon started again. "THE RAILING IS NOT SAF—PLEASE DON’T—"
The old weretiger had dropped the file. The papers scattered across the cobblestones, forgotten, as he took a step toward the building with his arms outstretched as though he could catch her from thirty feet away—"CECILIA—CHILD, STAY THERE! STAY THERE! BE CAREFU—"
"IS THIS THE SURPRISE YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, HUH?! YOU BAST—"
"I’M GONNA KNEEL! I’M KNEELING, LESSER GODDESS, I’M KNEE—" Damon’s voice cracked as he dropped to one knee on the cobblestones, his hands still raised, trying to salvage the situation before a pregnant lady jumped off a building.
"Lesser Goddess."
A voice came from behind her.
Cecilia turned her head, her grip still white-knuckled on the railing, her chest still heaving. Eastiel’s arms were still wrapped securely around her waist, his heart hammering against her back.
Ivy stood there, framed by the entrance to the sunroof. She wore a simple blue casual dress that swayed softly around her knees, her blonde hair curled into loose waves that brushed her shoulders. And her smile was gentle. So very gentle.
"It’s nice to finally meet you," she said.
Meet...?
Cecilia finally allowed Eastiel to pull her away from the balcony, her feet finding solid ground again. She faced the woman before her, brow furrowing with confusion. "President Cassia? But, we’ve met..."
They had met. After the dam disaster.
"No," Ivy said, shaking her head. "This is actually the first time we met."
Then, from behind Ivy, another woman stepped into view. It was—another Ivy!
Cecilia flinched. Her hand flew to her chest. Her eyes darted between the two women. Identical blonde hair, identical blue eyes, identical gentle curves of their matching blue dresses. They were mirror images. Perfect duplicates.
"Mistook her for me?" the second Ivy said, her voice carrying the same cadence but a slightly different warmth. Something more playful at the edges.
"Meet my twin, Lesser Goddess."
Ivy said.
"This is Isla."
***
WHOOOSH—
The rooftop fell silent.
The breeze was the only thing that dared to move, dancing lazy circles around the canopy, rustling the potted lavender, tugging at the hem of Ivy’s and Isla’s blue dress. Even the birds, still scattered from Cecilia’s earlier outburst, seemed to know better than to return just yet.
"This is what you got for marrying for political reasons, Sister." She rolled her eyes. "See, your husband got humiliated because of a work-related issue again. You should’ve married Magnus Karas."
"Eish." Ivy waved a dismissive hand, unbothered. "Magnus’ tongue game can’t compare to this guy’s."
"But you said his bird cock is bigger—"
"Choosing between medium-large cock with excellent tongue game and extra-large cock with mid tongue game, of course I’d choose tongue any day."
"Heh." Isla’s smile turned smug. "Sebastian had both."
"You lucky bitch—" Ivy sucked her teeth. "You know what? That’s fine. Seeing him humiliated turns me on most times."
Damon was still kneeling. He had been joined on the rooftop by Anton Vasiliev, the old weretiger who had been roaring in the courtyard not ten minutes earlier, and both men were in identical poses of supplication.
Knees on the stone floor. Arms raised high. Fists balled toward the sky. The universal posture of men who had been caught in an elaborate scheme and were now trying, desperately, to appear sufficiently repentant.
Damon’s face, however, was slowly turning red. Not from embarrassment. But from the twins’ running commentary, which he could hear perfectly well from his position of penance.
In front of them, Cecilia sat with a long, exhausted sigh. Eastiel stood behind her chair, his hands working gentle circles into her shoulders, trying his best to lower her stratospheric blood pressure.
"Listen, Lesser Goddess." Damon shook his head helplessly. "You know why I had to take him away from Arzhen, that piece of shit, secretly. He wasn’t diagnosed with cancer, alright? That was just Arzhen’s bought-out doctors spouting bullshit—"
Anton nodded vigorously beside him, his silver-striped ears bouncing with the force of his agreement. "True, true. All lies. Fabricated. I was as healthy as a—well, as a reasonably healthy old tiger."
"So, your Father-in-law—"
"Ex," Cecilia corrected, her voice flat.
"Ex-Father-in-law," Damon amended without missing a beat, "was actually being poisoned. That’s why, we decided to use a bit of magic to switch him with a passed... body double, and let them... bury..."
His voice lost steam and he visibly deflated, his raised fists drooping slightly toward his shoulders.
Cecilia stared at him. "You are the Association Director. Why even need this kind of scheme? Why don’t you just expose Arzhen and be done with it?"
"Ah, that was more than a couple of years ago. My position wasn’t secure yet, alright?" He paused.
"Also..." He met her eyes directly. "You still seemed to love that tiger bastard at the time. You. The genius inventor of the Shield."
Suddenly, the sharpness in his demeanor came fully into focus. Even still kneeling, arms still extended, the man looking up at her was not a subordinate begging forgiveness.
He returned to being the director of the most powerful organization in the world.
"It’s not Arzhen, or even Anton. The important one in every one of my considerations... is you, Professor Cecilia Araceli."
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I’ve noticed there are two new reviews for this book! Thank you guys! I will soon give you two bonus Chapters. I’ve been recovering from a bad throat infection and I hadn’t been able to sound out anything from my mouth right now.
(Also, it seems the weather had been strange lately accross the world, it caused quite a diverse ailments on people. Including me, family and our artists. Stay safe!)
I will return to 2 Chapters a day pace the moment I start feeling just a bit better. I love you!!!
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