Chapter 21: To the Music Room (End)
Celestia's POV
Morning crept in gentle over the academy grounds, painting the sky in soft streaks of silver and rose—like the world was trying to shake off the night without making too much noise. The air outside still carried that fresh, clean smell of dew on grass, mixed with the quiet calm that comes after a long, restless night when sleep just wouldn't stick. Birds chirped lazy from the mana trees, their leaves shimmering faint in the early light, like they knew the day was starting over after yesterday's mess.
Celestia Silveria Van Lumina hadn't gone back to her dorm. Not even close.
She sat on one of the cold marble benches overlooking the Music Room, tucked in a side courtyard where the stone walls curved around like a hug nobody asked for. The mana trees nearby rustled soft, their branches glowing just a bit with that inner blue light, like ghosts waking up slow in the sun. The music from last night still played in her head—those piano notes Lucian had pulled out, slow and heavy, like they were carrying all the weight he wouldn't say out loud.
Even now, if she shut her eyes tight, she could hear it clear as day. The keys whispering like someone letting out a long-held breath. The pauses in between, big and empty, full of words that never got said.
Her hand drifted to her chest without thinking, fingers curling light over the spot where her heart beat too fast, too uneven. "...Why can't I stop looking for him?" she said quiet, her voice cracking just a little, like thin ice under a boot. It got swallowed by the morning hush, but it hurt all the same coming out.
The song hadn't left her—not really. It followed her into the few hours of half-sleep she managed, twisting through dreams that felt too real: his fingers on the keys, face blank but eyes far away; her standing close, reaching out, but his hands pulling back every time. It wasn't the tune itself that dug in deep. It was what it dragged along—his hurt, the way he'd given up fighting, that quiet "I'm done" feel that made her stomach twist.
She shifted on the bench, the marble hard under her, and pulled her knees up a bit, wrapping her arms around them like that could hold everything in. The courtyard felt bigger than it should, the mana trees' glow too bright for how tired she was. Why did it feel like this? Like losing him all over again, when he was right there in the same building, breathing the same air? Her uniform felt too stiff, too perfect for how messy inside she was—white and gold, all straight lines and empire pride, but it couldn't hide the shake in her hands.
The sound of footsteps came then—soft but steady, like someone who knew how to walk without drawing eyes. She turned her head slow, not wanting to let go of the quiet just yet.
Coming her way was a guy with hair as white as hers, but his had that faint gold shine in the sun, like it caught light different. Silvan Hemrick Van Lumina, Crown Prince of the Lumina Empire—her big brother, tall and straight-backed in his white uniform, the emerald badge on his chest saying who he was without a word. He carried himself like he owned the place, but his voice came out easy, almost like teasing an old friend.
"So this is where you've been hiding," he said, stopping a few steps away with a half-smile that crinkled his eyes a bit. "I've been looking since the sun came up. You weren't in your dorm, and the knights said you hadn't signed in. You trying to give the headmaster a heart attack again?"
Celestia looked away quick, her eyes going to the courtyard's edge where the mana trees swayed slow. "I just needed... some air," she said soft, her voice coming out smaller than she meant, like it got lost on the way.
Silvan let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand—the way he did when he was trying not to push too hard. "You've been saying that a lot lately. Like, every time someone asks where you've been."
Before she could find words to brush it off, another set of steps joined—light and even, the soft click of heels on stone that sounded like it belonged in a ballroom, not a school yard.
Serene Veronica Le Ardenia glided into view smooth as water over pebbles, her long white hair shining like fresh frost under the sky, her crimson eyes catching the light sharp as rubies in snow. Even standing there plain, she looked put-together perfect—her uniform hugging her slim shape just right, like it was made for her, cold beauty that made you look twice. Among all the nobles who strutted around like they owned the air, Serene stood out quiet, like a knife wrapped in silk.
"Your Highness," she said, dipping her head polite to Silvan before turning those red eyes on Celestia—soft on the surface, but with something underneath that watched close. "I'm glad to see you safe. His Highness has been worried sick."
Celestia pulled up a small smile, the kind that didn't reach her eyes, feeling it sit wrong on her face. "I appreciate it, Lady Serene."
Her words came out nice, all proper like she was taught, but inside her chest got tight, like someone squeezed too hard. Serene's voice was calm—too calm, smooth as glass over deep water. Those red eyes looked soft with worry, but Celestia caught the edge, that little claim underneath, like Serene was marking her spot without saying a word.
They'd both been there. At his end.
Celestia remembered it clear as yesterday—Serene's shoulders shaking hard as she cried next to Lucian's body, her hands grabbing at the bloody cloth that used to cover his wounds, holding on like it could bring him back. Even then, Celestia had seen it—that same pull, that want in her eyes.
But Serene wasn't like her. She wasn't someone who came back.
Celestia was the only one stuck—or maybe lucky—with the memories.
And that made her lips twitch just a bit, a sour taste creeping in her thoughts she didn't like.
'This time, Lucian is mine, Vennie. You may have cried for him once, but that doesn't give you the right to take him again.'
'Since you didn't return like I did… I'll be the one by his side.'
'And if you try to steal him again… I'll lock him away in that villa I bought by the southern cliffs. I'll keep him there—forever. No gods, no fate, no one to take him from me.'
Her heart jumped fast, scared by her own mean thought. She'd never pictured herself like that—holding on so tight it turned ugly, like a quiet crazy she didn't know was there. But when it came to Lucian, even her good side got dark, like the light in her bent wrong around him.
"Celestia?"
Her brother's voice yanked her back, soft but worried. Silvan was looking at her close, his brow creased a little, like he could tell she was miles away. "You zoned out again. You've been doing that a lot these days."
Celestia blinked quick, forcing her face straight, pulling in a breath to steady. "Sorry, Brother. I was just... thinking."
He let out air through his nose, still watching her with that mix of curious and caring that made him a good prince—and a good brother when he wasn't being all high-and-mighty. "Is it about him again?"
The question sat heavy between them, like a rock dropped in still water. Serene's red eyes flicked to Celestia fast, but she kept quiet, her face smooth as ever.
"...No," Celestia said, the lie coming out low, tasting bad on her tongue. "I just couldn't sleep."
Silvan didn't push it. He knew that tone—when she talked like that, no amount of asking would change her mind, like she'd built a wall he couldn't climb. "Well, try to crash soon. Classes kick off tomorrow morning. And don't wander off so early next time—you'll have the knights flipping out again."
He gave her that easy smile, the one that said he got it but wasn't letting go, then turned to head back, Serene falling in step beside him smooth as shadow.
Celestia stayed put on the bench, her gaze going far off, blurry on the mana trees' soft glow. The wind picked up a little, brushing her hair across her face, and for a quick second, she could almost hear Lucian's piano again—faint through the morning air, like it was calling her back.
"...That song," she said to nobody, fingers twisting the edge of her dress tight. "It felt like goodbye."
The quiet around her didn't answer—just the wind sighing through the trees, carrying the last bit of last night's tune away like it was never there.
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Lucian's POV
The piano's last note had trailed off a while back, but the empty space it left stuck around, hanging in the room like smoke that wouldn't clear.
Lucian sat there a bit longer in the quiet music room, eyes half-shut, staring at the wall without really seeing it—the shelves of old music books yellowed at the edges, the windows letting sun creep in slow across the floor.
"Seems I'm done playing," he said soft to the empty air. "Should I keep going?"
He waited a beat, then let out a small, dry laugh—no real joy in it, just the sound of someone who knew the joke but wasn't laughing. "Nah. It's enough for today."
He pushed up from the bench, the wood scraping faint on the floor, and fixed his uniform—smoothing the gold trim on his jacket that had bunched up, brushing off a speck of dust from his pants. The morning light caught the silver chain at his collar, making it shine for a second, but he didn't pay it mind.
'Gladly, I chose a solo dorm this time,' he thought, the idea settling easy in his head, like a small win in a long losing day. 'No one will bug me. Maybe... I should write again.'
His eyes went soft just a touch, like remembering something good from way back.
'Poems... It's been a while. Master and Seoryeon both showed me how to put words together like silk—ones that could cut deep or mend a little, depending on how you read them.'
He shoved his hands in his pockets, the faint smile dropping off quick.
'Maybe that's all I got left to give this world. Words. Music. Quiet.'
He headed for the door, leaving behind the warm wood smell and the soft echo of his song, not knowing that out in the courtyard, two women watched him go from spots across the way—one with a heart full of old want, the other with a love that was already turning bad inside.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the music room went still again, sun climbing higher through the windows, waiting for the next pair of hands to wake it up.