Translator: Nox

Chapter 23

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Connie disregarded my unease entirely, raising her head with the poise of a stern magistrate.

“He’s no playboy wasting his academy years while ignoring a fiancée, no schemer gambling that your count’s title might transfer to him, and certainly no creep.”

Her fingers ticked off each of my previous romantic disasters one by one.

“This fellow appears solid enough.”

She smacked her right fist into her left hand repeatedly.

The gesture mimicked a decisive courtroom hammer.

Even with her positive assessment, humiliation surged through me as old failures replayed vividly in my thoughts.

Noticing my discomfort, she gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Give it your all. He’s the strongest choice you’ve made yet.”

Her words failed to lift my spirits.

The shadows of my history loomed too heavily.

“Did a bad dream keep you up, big sister?”

Anika, my sole little sister and the baby among the four Diaz children, gazed at me through half-awake eyes while I mechanically smeared butter across my slice.

“Sleep escaped me last night.”

I stretched my eyes wide, determined to spare this academy freshman any concern.

Truthfully, nightmares had gripped me tight.

Prior to this leave, chatting about academy memories with Connie had summoned my grim history straight into my sleep.

Those visions forced me to endure every mortifying “Aah! Aaaah! Aaaaaaaah!” outburst without the haze of drink to soften them.

Delays in returning home from sheer busyness now made me suspect some restless ghost had claimed my bedroom.

She pondered raiding the storeroom for silver utensils to banish it, her gaze fixed on the butter knife amid musings about spectral presences.

Anika settled into the chair opposite as she fixated there.

Academy life had prompted her shift to grown-up seating.

Yet her age-kept shortness left her feet swinging clear of the ground.

“You didn’t push too hard at work solely for this visit home, did you?”

Tiny fingers reached for her silverware.

I slid the plate nearer to simplify her reach.

On this occasion, reassurance matched reality.

Donovan’s removal had transformed the office atmosphere overnight.

Without a superior obsessed with his whims at efficiency’s expense, pointless duties had vanished.

Arnold’s interim leadership proved gentle rather than dictatorial, simplifying interactions.

Moreover, whispers circulated about my ties to elite figures.

Such talk elevated my standing above even Arnold’s among peers.

In essence, those links existed for real.

Everette served as the emperor’s right hand, while Kyle held status as his singular companion.

They anchored the empire’s innermost circle of trust.

She reflected that her role seemed peripheral at best, perhaps meriting a fleeting mention in the empire’s vast narrative.

Lost in such musings, she watched Anika shrug lightly.

“Good to hear.”

From infancy, the girl had carried a wise-beyond-years composure.

Contentment sealed their exchange.

Silence filled the dining area, broken only by the clink of meals in progress.

Corporate drudges and youngsters alike required sustenance.

Satiated bellies sparked fresh talk.

“Settling into the academy okay?”

Regret hit immediately at the question.

Anika’s fork froze suspended.

“I long for the ignorance of before.”

The twelve-year-old wagged her head gravely, exhaling a profound breath.

“Precisely how innocent—eleven years old? Or ten?”

Her playful jab prompted Anika to drop her utensil and flop forward onto the wood.

Plump cheeks mashed flat against it.

“You grasp nothing, sister.”

Her stare drifted into remote recollections, spanning perhaps one or two years back.

A quiet alarm stirred within: no real issue plagued her, surely?

This resourceful child navigated crowded bazaars homeward without fail, yet concern gnawed anyway.

“Overloaded assignments? Or clashing with peers?”

Those typical freshman woes drew no upward glance from the girl.

“Between those, I’d say classmates.”

The twins voiced it upon descending for morning fuel.

“Long time no see, sis.”

Emmett offered a sluggish hand wave.

Jayden edged into view past his brother’s right side.

Their mirror-image features aligned evoked a mythical three-headed beast.

“Take seats. You’re spinning my head.”

Relieved inwardly they numbered two instead of three, she nodded toward empty spots.

Time check spurred their haste to chairs.

“Narrow escape, lads.”

Emma, handling cooking and housekeeping duties, beamed while plating their shares.

“Blame Emmett’s drag.”

“Counter that—you overslept equally.”

The pair squabbled briefly over cutlery before digging in.

The meal window neared its close.

Diaz home customs skipped mandatory family gatherings.

Skip food if undesired.

But hunger within hours meant dining room arrival, or settling for stale loaves—or nothing.

Such structure eased burdens on the trio of servants and tamed the clan’s haphazard timings.

Mother enforced it ironclad, home or absent.

The twins’ phase forbade meal-skipping folly.

“Back to that ‘classmates’ bit—what gives?”

Emmett clarified around mouthfuls.

“She’s moping over a class split from Nathan.”

Anika’s playmate from childhood boasted endearing blond curls.

Her face pressed even flatter, confirming the diagnosis.

“She pleaded for a knight division switch and got denied.”

Jayden chimed in with a smirk.

“No pleading—just a courteous request.”

Her mouth pursed beak-like.

“Wooden blades exceed your strength.”

Anika dismissed the jab utterly.

“The academy tore me from Nathan!”

The outburst rang like theatrical lament.

Spotting her flair for the dramatic, the boys ramped up their taunts.

“Nathan radiates joy lately.”

Their magic wing lay worlds apart from knight training grounds.

Nathan’s freshman status clashed with their senior schedules, barring chance encounters.

Pure fabrication to prod her.

Yet Anika, deep in her woebegone persona, abandoned reason.

Eyes bulging, she demanded details anew.

The twins recoiled at her fervor.

Their pause fueled her conviction.

Violet irises shimmered damply.

She fired cautionary looks their way.

“Tears mean your doom.”

Emmett yielded first.

“Fine, kidding.”

Jayden followed: “Nathan’s a ghost since orientation.”

Realization dawned on Anika mid-breath.

Fury bellowed from her petite form.

“Fibbers! Goblin snot! Orc tooth scum!”

Fresh monster lore shaped barbs for the mana-less duo’s magic pursuit.

“Emmett claim orc scum?”

“I’ll pass—goblin snot suits me.”

The retorts rendered her attack toothless.

Obsessed with dissecting vile beasts like goblins and orcs that repulsed others, they thrived on it.

Even so, snot and scum struck her as excessive.

As rock-paper-scissors decided goblin duty, Anika ballooned her face toward her.

“Sis! They’re tormenting me!”

Resisting the urge to note her own baiting ease, she stroked the girl’s crown gently.

Voice pitched for twin ears: “Shall merciful Anika pardon them? Lest exam-preppers hand-copy holy texts.”

Cheeks inflated on the mischievous duo.