Chapter 95

Chapter 95 – Competitive Atmosphere (4)

Translator: Atlas / Editor: Regan

“What’s he like?” Raphael asked, his expression serious. In her previous life, he had rejected anything to do with the Bavaria family, but this time he seemed to be trying to take an interest.

Annette’s heart softened. No one could be unmoved when he was making such an obvious effort.

“My brother is six years older than me,” she said. “He’s very intelligent. Most people will tend to focus on a big tree, but my brother will be more curious about its roots. Sometimes I had trouble trying to follow his ideas.”

She trailed off, lost in her memories. When she was a child, she had seen Arjen as something like a prophet, an incomprehensible young man whose words always turned out to be true in the end. If she were a religious person, she might have chosen Arjen to worship.

“He is a perfectionist, because he is always trying to meet the expectations of others,” she went on. “So sometimes he might seem a little paranoid, but he’s a good person. He has a bold side, sometimes, that can be surprising. But I guess I don’t know many specifics about him, myself,” she admitted. “I haven’t spent much time with my brother.”

The description ended a little awkwardly. Her brother was six years older and a born genius. They didn’t have much in common. Arjen had always been kind to her, but his mind was a busy place, and he had left early to go to the Academy in the empire.

Annette had spent more time with Claire than with her brother.

Whenever Arjen couldn’t visit, he had sent her instead. Or rather, she had volunteered to come in his place. She had liked spending time with Annette.

But it was still embarrassing to realize how little she knew of her own brother. Annette’s fingers fidgeted uncomfortably, and Raphael’s eyes went automatically to those white hands. Reaching out, he gently touched them.

“These are so small,” he said. “And cold. They look as if they’re made of glass.”

“Your hands are white, too.”

“But mine are not beautiful,” he said, awkwardly withdrawing his hand. Annette’s cheeks heated. It was the first time he had ever told her she was beautiful, even if indirectly.

“He might only stay a short time,” she said quickly, to cover her embarrassment. “He is always busy. He will probably work during his visit. So don’t worry about him too much.”

“Your sister-in-law has a good personality. I’ve never met anyone like her before,” Raphael murmured, and Annette stared. The unsociable Raphael had not just taken an interest in someone else, but actually regarded them favorably. It was unprecedented.

“How has your training with her been?” She asked curiously. She had been wondering. “Beneficial?”

“She’s very skilled. She’s like a sword, not a person, probably because she trained so early in her family’s tradition. Especially that misdirection, she’s good at drawing the eye in one direction and then attacking from–but that’s enough,” he said, abruptly stopping the flow of words, tumbling out in unusual excitement. “That was unnecessary.”

“You’re very fond of swordfighting,” she said, her head tilting like a little bird as she smiled. She couldn’t understand everything he was saying, but it was interesting nonetheless. It was good to listen to a passionate man. “When did you first learn it?”

“I don’t really remember. Maybe when I was five? Or six.”

But the usual wariness flashed in his blue eyes at the mention of his past, and Annette already knew what subjects triggered his suspicion. There was no need to go digging further into his past, as if they were a real couple.

“I’m glad you don’t hate her,” Annette said, changing the subject. Thoughts of Osland were drifting through her mind. “I was worried she was bothering you too much. I was going to ask her to stop.”

“Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

The conversation ended abruptly at this brief reply, and a heavy silence lingered in the night air. Raphael bit his lip as he looked at her delicate face, at the indifferent pink eyes that did not seek him out. Somehow, it made his heart drop.

He did not have the words to explain the distance he felt from her, but anxiety clawed at the inside of his throat. They were raw, uncomfortable emotions that he had only recently discovered.

Raking his fingers through his windblown hair, he tried to think of something else to say, for the first time exerting himself to prolong a conversation. Fortunately, something popped to mind immediately.

“…that woman who visited us the other day. Who was she?”

Annette’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the question.