Chapter 71
And so, Noxia and Ellenon agreed to watch the premiere of the play together.
Ellenon decided to sit in the back row with Noxia. He and his friends could easily have taken the best seats in the front, but Ellenon refused that privilege to be with his partner.
Noxia Decan had now become a well-known figure at the academy. The news that a prince was dating a library assistant had spread throughout the student body.
Thanks to the soft but firm pressure the royal family exerted on the media, the prince’s romance was not plastered all over newspapers and magazines.
However, no matter how powerful the royal family was, they could not personally silence every student who heard the story directly from Ellenon or everyone who received the news from them.
Eventually, the rumor spread orally through the school, extended into high society, and occasionally became a topic of conversation even in ordinary street taverns or tea houses.
Even the library staff working with Noxia were now aware that she was the prince’s partner.
Most of the staff, including Harold, were eager to ask her all sorts of questions, but thanks to the wise and considerate Riana Artmon, Noxia was able to avoid many awkward situations.
Riana was consistently kind to Noxia while maintaining a suitably strict boundary as a senior librarian.
As far as Noxia could tell, Riana also kept the other staff in line so that they would not bombard her with uncomfortable questions or requests.
Noxia felt immense gratitude toward Riana. Thanks to a respected senior managing the workplace atmosphere well, she was able to continue her work almost as she had before.
For various reasons, Ellenon insisted on the back row rather than the conspicuous front seats, preferring a place where he and his partner could sit without interruptions. After all, the date itself was more important than the play, so he had no regrets.
On the day of the theater club’s performance, the two of them first met at a tea house near the academy and spent some time together, leaving deliberately tight on schedule so that they arrived at the auditorium just before the play began.
Had they arrived leisurely, people’s eyes would have been drawn to them before the play started, causing unwanted attention. But as the performance was just about to begin, everyone was naturally focused on the stage.
Noxia and Ellenon took their seats in the very back row. Fortunately, the lights were gradually dimming, allowing the couple to prepare comfortably for the performance without drawing unpleasant attention.
The lights went completely dark. The noise in the auditorium gradually faded. Noxia leaned back in her seat, waiting for the curtain to rise.
“Ugh.”
Suddenly, a sharp pain struck her head, and her chest tightened painfully.
“Noxia, are you okay?”
Hearing her small groan, Ellenon whispered anxiously. Noxia quickly nodded.
“Yes, I’m fine. My chest suddenly felt tight…”
But why? Why? Even she did not know the answer. Ellenon continued to watch her with concern, and she forced a smile, whispering gently:
“I’m fine now. Let’s focus on the performance, Your Highness.”
Ellenon’s worried expression did not ease. Just as he was about to suggest leaving if she felt unwell, the curtain rose, and the lights illuminated the stage.
Noxia placed her finger on her lips and looked at Ellenon, signaling that she was truly fine and they should focus on the play. Reluctantly, Ellenon followed her lead.
The two of them stared ahead together. Ellenon remained worried for Noxia, and although Noxia pretended to focus on the stage, she secretly battled an inexplicable fear.
<I told you to run.>
It felt as if someone whispered in her ear with a chilling voice—like a hallucination, a nightmare, a disaster.
Then, the play began.
The two lay on a grassy field under a vast sky. Since this was before humans could freely make fire, they relied on starlight and fireflies to face the darkness.
“Promeon, look at that.”
“Where? What?”
“Follow the tip of my finger. Don’t those stars look like ladles? Like this.”
The woman, staring intently at the night sky, suddenly raised her index finger and traced a particular shape in the air.
The man, playing with her silver hair, watched the trajectory she drew carefully and nodded.
“Yeah, it really does look like a ladle. What should we call it? Ladle Constellation?”
“No, that’s too boring. I want a fancier name.”
The woman clicked her tongue disapprovingly at the man’s clumsy naming. The man grinned. While her gaze remained fixed on the sky, his eyes never left her.
“Yes, if it’s a name that will be remembered for generations, it shouldn’t be dull.”
Recently, the woman had focused on creating a human script, as the gods they served used complex pictograms. She devised a phonetic system that could be read and written directly according to sounds.
Once the script was complete, she had a mountain of content she wanted to record: the types of fruit trees humans cultivated, methods for hunting small animals like rabbits and squirrels, things needed to survive winter…
Additionally, she assigned names to stars appearing differently each season and marked directions, laying a foundation for humans to navigate land and sea by celestial guidance.
She called a group of stars unified by one name a “constellation,” borrowing the term from the gods.
The man felt both pride and fear watching her apply the gods’ knowledge creatively instead of passively.
He was proud of his intelligent and enterprising partner. The advancement of human living standards to this point was entirely due to her diligent curiosity and initiative.
At the same time, he was afraid. If she did not stop, the gods would surely try to intervene.
She not only ignored their beneficence but also sought to teach other humans to think independently—a great thorn in the side of the proud and transcendent gods.
Not all humans appreciated her. Conservative people close to the gods viewed her as a potential threat.
How long would those irritable priests tolerate her? How long would those arrogant gods allow it?
Even benevolent gods like Pelenne could only mediate so much. Her own cautious vigilance was not enough.
One day, whether intentionally or not, Hermane would inevitably cross a line.
And if the gods prosecuted her for sacrilege at that point…
“Hermane.”
“Hm?”
“I will do anything for you.”
The man’s sudden vow made the woman laugh brightly, thinking him absurd.
“Really? Anything?”
“Yes, anything.”
“Then climb up to the night sky and bring me a star.”
“If you want, I will.”
“Promeon, I’m joking. I don’t need a star. I only need you.”
“Lies.”
He gently contradicted her. When her laughter stopped and she looked slightly hurt, he pressed a sad smile and kissed her hair.
“You are never satisfied with just me. You are not only mine but the king of us all. Think of how many lives you are responsible for.”
The king—you govern us, and I, the hero, protect you.
You look over the vast sky and the expansive land beneath, but I only have eyes for you. Unlike you, who reflects on the past and gazes into the future to care for all, I am far less noble, with a narrow perspective. And yet, you are my world.
“So take everything you want.”
I will genuinely do anything, for humans are creatures capable of countless sacrifices to protect the world they belong to.
“I will protect everything you have.”
Even if sometimes that sacrifice includes myself.
He whispered this confession sweetly, pressing his forehead against hers, brushing their noses together. Soft lips met, tongues intertwined, breaths mingled, confirming their love. They lived every day like this, day and night, across seasons, as if forever.
At that moment, nothing was a performance—only genuine emotion that could never be exchanged for any act.
Jade Lanon was neither invited to the academy’s theater club performance nor had he bought a ticket.
Superficially, the young master did not lack money to buy a ticket. He simply did not need a ticket to watch the play.
Hidden in the shadows, away from everyone’s view, he barely restrained himself from laughing at moments throughout the performance.
There was nothing wrong with the play itself. If judged solely by artistic quality, it was flawless.
Jade’s inward chuckle stemmed entirely from the interpretation of the performance.
The so-called modern reinterpretation by the theater club gave unprecedented depth to Promeon and Hermane, which quietly drove Jade insane.
“It’s not the children’s fault.”
Jade admitted this fairly. What could these ant-like young humans know to write such a script?
They had not lived in that era, so they relied on imagination and limited records, and for that, their research was quite accurate. However…
“They have no way of knowing that Hermane and I would never have had such a conversation.”
Jade watched the two lead actors on stage. Promeon had prepared to steal the fire, and Hermane was pleading with him not to go.
If Promeon succeeded, humanity would prosper greatly. If he failed, he would be branded a thief coveting divine property and face a terrible punishment.
Hermane begged him not to take such risks, urging him to think only of himself.
