Atticus’ cold gaze remained on the silver haired girl. He didn’t know who she was, but her sudden fixation on him was something he had to get to the bottom of.
"What are you doing?"
A silver haired man appeared between them, his will bursting outward as it wrapped around him, cutting cleanly through the pressure Atticus had imposed.
The girl, who had been on the verge of collapsing to her knees, sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.
"B-brother..."
Relief filled her expression as she stared at him, but her brother wasn’t looking at her. His fierce gaze was locked directly onto Atticus.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
His will flared violently, filling the space between them.
Despite the threat behind his words, Atticus didn’t respond in words. He simply tightened his grip on the hilt of his katana, his silence speaking louder than any retort.
"No answer? Fine. Have it your way."
"Brother, wait!"
The man’s will condensed, vibrating violently as it formed into a blade along his arm, but before he could act, the girl forced her way between them.
"What are you doing? Move."
"B-but it’s not his fault!"
She spread her arms wide, shielding Atticus. Her brother’s expression darkened immediately.
"I saw everything. He was about to attack you."
"That’s because I followed him to his room!"
"..."
The brother stared at his sister, blinking once as he processed them.
"You did what?"
"I—I felt him while I was going to my room, and I... I approached him!"
A heavy silence followed. Then the brother exhaled and retracted his will.
...
"I’m truly sorry about my sister’s behavior."
The brother forced her into a deep bow with one arm. She struggled at first, clearly unwilling, but after a few moments her resistance stopped and her shoulders slumped.
"I-I’m sorry."
Around them, the low rumble of voices filled the space as people drank, laughed, and joked. At some point during the exchange, they had moved down to the inn’s bar.
Atticus now sat at a table in the corner, the two siblings bowing deeply before him.
’How should I handle this?’
It was strange, rare even, that a god, an Archduke no less, would bow down and apologize even if they were at fault. And yet, there was no deception in the man’s actions. Atticus could see it clearly.
He was genuinely sorry.
At the same time, he couldn’t ignore everything. More than the apology, he wanted to understand the source of the girl’s fixation on him.
"Alright."
At Atticus’ word, the siblings straightened at once.
"Thank you for your understanding. We’ll take our leave."
"Sit."
"...Pardon?"
They both paused, as if unsure they had heard him correctly. As Atticus gestured calmly toward the chairs opposite him, the brother frowned slightly.
"There’s really no need—"
"Okay!"
The girl dropped into her seat without hesitation, smiling brightly and staring at Atticus intently.
"...You..."
The brother shook his head, then let out a quiet sigh, clearly at a loss, before reluctantly taking his seat as well.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Many moments passed without a word being spoken, and it soon became awkward. Eventually, the girl cleared her throat.
"Yo—"
"What do you want?"
Atticus cut in bluntly.
"You."
She smiled as if pleased with her answer.
"...I apologize," the brother said quickly. "She doesn’t always think before she speaks. What she means is that she wants to study you."
"Study me?"


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