The Extra is a Genius!? - Chapter 429

Chapter 429: Chapter 429: Between Them
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

For a moment, Noel just stood there in the hallway, his hand resting against the wood, listening to the faint crackle of the fire on the other side. He could still picture Nicolas sitting there — half-shadowed by the light, eyes fixed on the academy that gleamed faintly beyond the glass.

Noel exhaled through his nose, the warmth of the room giving way to the cooler air of the corridor. ‘He’s still looking at it,’ he thought. ‘That place was his whole life.’

He turned slowly, footsteps echoing against the polished marble as he began walking down the hall. Through the high windows, the sun was dipping toward the horizon — a molten orange glow spilling across the castle gardens.

At the far end, a familiar figure waited. Charlotte leaned against the wall, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, pink hair catching the evening light. When she saw him, her smile was small but steady.

“How is he?” she asked.

Noel stopped beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still stubborn. But… at peace, I think.”

Charlotte nodded faintly, her eyes softening. “He was always that way.”

“Yeah,” Noel said quietly. “Still is.”

They started walking side by side toward their guest wing. Neither spoke for a while — there wasn’t much to say. The halls of Valor Castle were vast and quiet, lined with banners that shifted gently in the breeze of open windows.

When they reached their door, Noel hesitated. His hand lingered on the handle.

Charlotte noticed. “Something’s wrong,” she said softly.

He didn’t answer at first, then nodded once. “Yeah. Nicolas told me something I didn’t want to hear.”

Charlotte’s expression tensed, her voice barely above a whisper. “What do you mean?”

Noel turned to her, eyes heavy but calm. “He’s dying, Charlotte. A year, maybe less.”

The words hung in the air — heavy, final, impossible to soften.

Charlotte’s hand flew to her chest. “No…” she breathed. “There must be something—”

“No,” Noel interrupted gently. “He already made peace with it.”

Charlotte looked down, her voice trembling. “Then I won’t.”

Noel gave a small, sad smile. “Yeah,” he murmured. “That sounds like you.”

Charlotte turned toward him, her eyes glimmering with that familiar stubbornness. “I can try, Noel. A blessing might—”

“No,” he said firmly.

Her lips parted, startled by the tone.

Noel took a slow breath and crossed the space between them until he was close enough that she could feel his warmth. “He asked me not to let you,” he said, voice quiet but unwavering. “He knows what blessings cost you. He doesn’t want his last months bought with your life.”

Charlotte’s hands clenched at her sides. “It wouldn’t kill me.”

“It would hurt you,” he countered softly. “And for what? A few extra weeks for someone who’s already said goodbye?”

The words hit harder than he intended. She turned away, shoulders trembling. “You make it sound so cold.”

“I know,” Noel said, his voice breaking just slightly. “But he’s not afraid anymore, Charlotte. And I can’t let you burn yourself out for someone who’s ready to rest.”

Silence fell again — long, heavy, broken only by the rain tapping against the glass.

Finally, Charlotte whispered, “Then what do I do?”

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You do what you always do,” he said quietly. “You help people who still need you. You stay alive.”

Charlotte looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “That’s not fair.”

Noel smiled faintly, weary but sincere. “Nothing about this world ever is.”

She didn’t answer right away — just stepped closer until their foreheads touched, her breath trembling against his. “He was lucky to have you,” she murmured.

Noel closed his eyes, whispering back, “No. I was lucky to have him.”

For a while, neither of them moved. The only sound was the slow rhythm of their breathing, mingling with the rain’s steady pulse against the windows.

Charlotte stepped back first, wiping the corner of her eye quickly — pretending she hadn’t been crying. “Sorry,” she said with a small, shaky laugh. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry again today.”

Noel gave her a soft look. “You’ve earned the right to,” he said simply. “After everything we’ve been through… I’d say a few tears are fair.”

She smiled faintly at that, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her knees up slightly. “You sound like Nicolas when you say things like that.”

Noel chuckled, dragging a chair closer and sitting across from her. “Then I really am getting old.”

Charlotte tilted her head, her expression softening again. “No. Just wiser.”

He leaned back, the chair creaking under him. “If that’s what wisdom looks like, I’ll pass,” he muttered with a wry smile. “Doesn’t feel worth it.”

Charlotte laughed — the first real one he’d heard from her since they left the Thorne estate. The sound was small but bright, like a spark in the heavy air.

“You really think I shouldn’t do anything?” she asked again, quieter this time.

Noel nodded. “I think… he’d rather see you smiling than see you save him. He told me to make sure you don’t waste what you have left.”

Charlotte’s gaze drifted toward the window. The storm had softened to a drizzle now, faint streaks of silver sliding down the glass. “You’re protecting everyone, even from themselves,” she whispered. “It’s exhausting just watching you.”

Noel raised a brow. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

She met his eyes, and for a heartbeat, the air between them felt heavier again. “It is,” she said softly. “Because someday, there won’t be anyone left to protect you.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came. Instead, he reached for her hand.

Charlotte didn’t pull away. She squeezed his fingers once, then leaned her head lightly against his arm.

The quiet knock at the door came just as Charlotte had closed her eyes.

Seraphina’s voice followed, calm and composed. “Still awake?”

Noel stood, opening the door just enough for her to peer inside. The princess looked almost regal even in the soft light of the corridor — her hair tied back loosely, a faint fatigue in her eyes that didn’t dull her authority.

“I just wanted to let you know,” she said, glancing between the two, “we’ll be leaving for the academy tomorrow morning. I’ve arranged carriages for all three of us.”

Her gaze lingered on Charlotte a moment longer — on the faint redness around her eyes, the small smile that didn’t quite reach. Seraphina seemed to understand without needing an explanation.

“You should both rest,” she added softly. “It’s been a long few days.”

“Thank you,” Noel said quietly.

Seraphina nodded once, then stepped back into the hall. “Goodnight,” she murmured before closing the door, leaving them again in the muted glow of the single lamp.

The silence returned — gentler now, but heavier in a different way. Charlotte still sat at the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap. The rain had stopped, leaving the world outside wrapped in stillness.

Noel turned toward her, unsure of what to say. “She means well,” he began.

Charlotte smiled faintly, shaking her head. “I know.” Her voice was quiet, thoughtful. “She always does.”

Her gaze drifted toward him then — soft but searching. “You really meant what you said, didn’t you? About living for what’s still ahead.”

He nodded once. “I did.”

Charlotte stood, taking a slow step closer. Her expression had changed — not sadness this time, but something deeper. “Then maybe,” she whispered, “I should start doing that too.”

Before Noel could respond, she reached for his collar, her fingers trembling slightly. The movement was hesitant but real — the kind of closeness that carried more honesty than words ever could.

“Charlotte…” he began, his tone low, uncertain.

She shook her head gently. “Just… let me forget for tonight.”

Noel met her eyes, searching for doubt — there was none. Only the quiet ache of someone trying to find warmth in the cold aftermath of truth.

He exhaled slowly, then placed his hand over hers. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she whispered.

The lamplight dimmed, shadows swaying gently across the walls as their world grew smaller — just the two of them and the soft rhythm of their breaths.

Charlotte moved first, closing the distance completely. Her kiss was not gentle; it was desperate — a flood of emotion she had held back for far too long. Every tremor in her hands, every sigh against his lips spoke of fear, pain, and something fiercely alive beneath it all.

Noel responded slowly, as if trying to catch up to the storm that had taken hold of her. The weight of her body pressed against him, her touch tracing his skin with the kind of hunger born from heartbreak and hope colliding.

For a while, there were no thoughts — no gods, no pillars, no fate. Only the heat of the moment, the thrum of their hearts finding rhythm in each other.

Charlotte was passionate, almost overwhelming — the kind of closeness that stole his breath more than once. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips finding his again and again, as though afraid that if she stopped, the world would return too soon.

When at last the fire of that need softened, she rested her head against his chest. Her breathing slowed, her voice barely a whisper. “You won’t leave me behind… right?”

Noel’s arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Not unless you push me away,” he murmured.

A small laugh escaped her — tired, quiet, but genuine. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Guess so,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through her hair.

The night outside was utterly still now. The last embers of the lamp flickered once, twice, then went out, leaving only the faint glow of the moon through the curtains.

Charlotte’s breathing steadied against him, her warmth pressed close as her body relaxed completely. Within moments, she had fallen asleep, still holding onto him as though he might vanish.

Noel stayed awake a little longer, watching the silver light play across her hair, his mind drifting somewhere between exhaustion and peace.

He whispered, barely audible, “You deserve to rest too.”