Hoo~
Greg took a deep breath, straightened up, and his gaze fell on Allie opposite him. She still held her teacup, her eyes fixed on the darkening sky outside the window, the lines of her profile appearing somewhat rigid in the dim yellow light.
She was clearly still unhappy, but that unhappiness was no longer the explosive anger from before; it was more like a dull sense of grievance. Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the rim of the cup—a habitual gesture she made when annoyed, one Greg had seen countless times since childhood.
Although she was currently exuding an aura of 'don't talk to me,' Greg knew that if he genuinely didn't speak to her, she would only get angrier.
Greg knew her too well. She was six years older than him and had been responsible for taking care of him since he was a little squirt—and, of course, she often beat him up.
Whenever Allie found him displeasing, she would unceremoniously give him a knuckle-rap. When he caused trouble, Allie would grab his ear and drag him to the corner for a timeout. When he cried, Allie would clumsily wipe his tears while complaining about how pathetic he was. One could say that half of his childhood memories were filled with her presence—that silly maid who never said she liked him, yet never truly left his side.
He had grown up under Allie's watchful eye, and he, in turn, knew her temperament like the back of his hand. When Allie got angry, she typically exhibited three states:
The first was furious rage, where she'd draw her sword and slash at people. In that state, even he would do well to keep his distance.
The second was cold sarcasm, where she'd use sharp words to tear people apart. In that state, it was best to humbly admit fault.
And the third, like now—silent, avoiding eye contact, brooding alone.
Allie in this state wasn't truly angry; she was waiting for someone to coax her. Just like when he angered Allie as a child, she'd put on a stern face and ignore him, but as long as he dutifully tugged at her sleeve, she would eventually sigh and flick his forehead, saying, “Don't do it again next time.”
Although he would still misbehave next time, and she would still hit him, this was their unique way of interacting.
Greg stood up, walked over to Allie, and sat in the chair next to her. He didn't apologize directly, knowing Allie hated insincere apologies the most.
He remained silent for a moment, then spoke in a natural tone:
“Are you hungry? I heard there's a barbecue place on this street that's really good, even better than the Golden Crucible in the City of Glory.”
Allie didn't answer, not even raising an eyelid. Her lips were slightly pursed, her gaze still fixed on the window.
Greg didn't get discouraged and continued:
“And that place also has a signature dessert, made with honey and nuts, crispy on the outside and soft and sweet on the inside.”
“I remember you used to love sweets, right? One time you secretly ate cake from the kitchen, got caught by the butler, and then blamed me. Because of your coercion, I took the fall for you for nothing.”
Allie's lips twitched slightly. Though it was a tiny movement, Greg caught it. He secretly rejoiced, It's working.
“Speaking of which, you used to be half a head taller than me, didn't you?”
Greg gestured with his hand:
“Back then, as a trainee maid, you followed me around every day, constantly grabbing my collar and lecturing me. One time, I accidentally knocked over an inkwell, and you immediately gave me a knuckle-rap that almost made me cry.”
“That's because you splashed ink on your former fiancée's clothes.”
Allie finally spoke, but her words made Greg immediately shut his mouth. Due to incomplete memories, he seemed to have accidentally stepped into a minefield again.
Fortunately, Allie had no intention of pressing the issue. She sighed and said:
“And that was years ago. Why are you bringing it up?”
Greg quietly let out a breath and smiled:
“Because I remember clearly! I've kept track of everything you've done since childhood, including that time when you were twelve and killed all the magical beasts in the back mountain while practicing your sword, scaring everyone in the family into thinking a powerful monster had invaded the territory, leading to a month-long mountain lockdown.”
Allie finally turned to him and glared. “Didn't you promise me you'd never mention that again?”
“I changed my mind,” Greg said, his expression unchanged.
Allie was so annoyed she reached out to hit Greg's head, but halfway there, she seemed to remember something, pulled her hand back, snorted, and turned her head away.
But Greg noticed that the tight line of her lips had softened considerably, and her shoulders had relaxed a bit as well.
Seeing this, Greg pressed his advantage. He stood up, walked in front of Allie, then bent down and dutifully tugged at her sleeve, just as he had done every time he caused trouble as a child.
He had done this countless times, starting when he was a tiny tot. Whenever Allie was angry and ignored him, he would run over and tug her sleeve, looking up at her until she softened.
Although he was now taller than her, the gesture still felt practiced and natural.
“Don't be angry.”
His voice lowered:
“I know you're not really mad; you're just worried I'll get hurt by bad women, and I didn't intentionally try to deceive you last time either.”
“And I promise you, I won't hide things from you anymore. I'll tell you everything!”
Greg said these words without any psychological burden. After all, his persona in front of Allie was always: I messed up this time, but I'll do it again next time.
Allie looked down at his hand gripping her sleeve, remaining silent for a long time.
She recalled many years ago, on a similar dusk, a young Greg tugging her sleeve, tearfully saying, “Allie, don't leave.”
Back then, she was just going to sneak out for a late-night snack, but he made it seem like a farewell for life. So many years had passed in a blink; the little squirt from back then was now taller than her, yet his habit of tugging her sleeve hadn't changed at all.
Outside, the sky had completely darkened, and the streetlights cast alternating patterns of light and shadow through the windowpanes onto their faces.
After a good while, she finally sighed softly, her voice tinged with helplessness and compromise: “...You always say that.”
“This time, it's for real.”
Greg looked up, his gaze sincere.
Allie met his gaze for a moment, then reached out and flicked his forehead. The force wasn't heavy, nor did it stun him or hurt his brain.
But Greg knew it meant she had forgiven him this time.
“If there's a next time...”
Allie said, “I'll spread the word around the Academy that you wet the bed when you were seven. Let's see what the women around you think of you then.”
Greg's smile froze on his face. “...Weren't you not even there then?”
“Who do you think you can hide your little shenanigans from?”
Allie stood up, patted non-existent dust from her skirt, her tone carrying a rare lightness:
“Come on, let's go get barbecue. Two desserts, as promised—not one less, you silly young master~”
Greg rubbed his forehead, watching her walk towards the door first, and finally couldn't help but smile, his mission accomplished.
He turned to Wendy, who had been silently sitting in the corner, and waved. “Let's go, Wendy, join us.”
Wendy, as if granted a pardon, quickly stood up and followed. As she passed Greg, she whispered, “As expected of the Bishop. Only you could appease Lady Allie so quickly.”
Greg smiled slightly. “Watch closely, learn well. When I need your help in the future, I'm sure you'll be able to do it too.”
Wendy: “.......”
Greg quickly turned and caught up with Allie, who was walking ahead. Although today had been a heart-stopping battlefield, at least the outcome was good.
It had increased the probability of his harem dream coming true from 0 to 0.01—a monumental leap from nothing to something.
However...
Greg looked towards the depths beneath the distant Imperial Capital. Before he could achieve that dream, he first had to figure out how to keep living.
Rate on N.U.
