“Are you coming out anyti soon?” I called from the doorway, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt.
Michelle didn’t even look up. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes glued to the glowing screen. “No,” she said flatly. “Not until I finish this quest.”
I crossed my arms. “Michelle, you’ve been at that computer since I got here.”
“Exactly,” she muttered, still not sparing a glance. “I’m in the middle of a boss fight. If I leave now, I’ll have to start all over.”
I bit my tongue. I had to remind myself—this wasn’t just any kid. This was Michelle Laken, daughter of the Lycan King, queen of stubborn streaks and icy stares.
But I wasn’t about to give up that easily.
I leaned over to take a look. My eyebrows lifted. “Is that Beast Realms: Legacy?”
Michelle didn’t even glance my way. “Yeah. The new edition dropped last week.”
“Seriously?” I walked closer. “I used to play the original version all the ti. I was addicted for a whole year.”
She lost another round. Her character fell in battle with a dramatic groan. Michelle groaned louder.
“Ugh! I’ve been trying to beat this boss since this morning!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Want help?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look like soone who plays gas.”
I smirked. “I’ll take that as a challenge. Move over.”
She didn’t budge at first. Then she sighed dramatically and pushed her chair back.
“Fine. But if you die, I’m rubbing it in.”
I cracked my knuckles. “Deal.”
Behind us, the butler appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Miss Jasmine, I thought this was study ti.”
Michelle gave a sideways glance, daring to explain.
I shrugged. “It is. This is just... strategy developnt.”
The butler didn’t look convinced. He mumbled sothing about “encouraging bad behavior” and walked away, shaking his head.
Michelle snorted. “He thinks you’re the worst tutor I’ve had.”
I grinned, my eyes focused on the screen. “Good. Maybe that ans I’ll be the one that sticks.”
Then I dove into the ga.
My fingers rembered what to do. The movents ca back like muscle mory. Dodge, strike, spin, retreat. The boss moved fast, but not fast enough. Michelle leaned in, eyes wide.
“No way,” she whispered.
A minute later, I delivered the final blow. The ga flashed ‘Victory’, and Michelle let out a half-gasp, half-scream.
“You did it!”
I leaned back in the chair, pretending to dust off my hands. “Told you.”
Michelle blinked. “You’re not normal.”
“I get that a lot.”
She looked at , expression unreadable for a second. Then she mumbled, “Thanks.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Was that gratitude I just heard?”
“Don’t get used to it. I wanna play one more round,” Michelle whined, already reaching for the keyboard again.
“Nope.” I stepped between her and the chair like a wall. “We had a deal. Finish your howork, then I help you with the ga. Not the other way around.”
She gave a glare that would’ve made a weaker woman back down. But I just crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” she muttered, stomping over to her books.
I handed her a pencil. “Thank you.”
“I’m only doing this so you don’t leave before helping beat that water dungeon.”
“Whatever works,” I said with a smile.
For the next couple of hours, we went over math, history, and grammar. Michelle complained through half of it, but she listened. She asked questions. She actually tried. I helped her break the questions down into simple steps—sothing I had to teach myself back in school, thanks to my learning disorder.
Every ti she struggled with a sentence or skipped a number in a math problem, I saw bits of myself in her. Frustration. Embarrassnt. Convinced she’d never be good enough.
“You’re not stupid,” I said once when she growled at her book.
She looked up, caught off guard. “I didn’t say I was.”
“You didn’t have to. I know that face. Trust —I’ve made it a thousand tis.”
Michelle didn’t say anything, but she didn’t roll her eyes either. Which, from her, was basically a hug.
By the ti we wrapped up, the sun was beginning to set and my stomach was starting to protest.
“I should get going,” I said, packing my things.
“No!” Michelle grabbed my wrist like I was trying to escape. “You promised you’d help clear that next quest!”
“I will. Next ti.”
“I don’t trust you. You’ll run away and ghost .”
“Ghost you?” I laughed. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Internet.”
Of course.
Before I could argue again, the butler appeared. “Dinner is ready, Miss Michelle.”
Michelle lit up and turned to . “Eat with us.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not. And I’m making sure you don’t leave.”
I hesitated, but the sll of roasted garlic and butter reached , and my will crumbled. “Fine. Just dinner.”
Michelle smirked like she’d just won a battle.
We ate in the smaller dining room this ti. The food was amazing—creamy mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, buttery vegetables. I had to remind myself to slow down and chew like a civilized person.
Michelle didn’t say much during the al. But she didn’t complain about the vegetables either. That had to an sothing.
After dinner, we headed back to her room. She booted up the ga and flopped into her chair. I leaned over her shoulder.
“Okay,” I said, tapping the screen. “That’s the first trap. Don’t just run in.”
She nodded, focused.
The room was quiet except for the soft clicking of the mouse and Michelle’s quiet mutters under her breath.
"Careful," I whispered, watching her guide her character around the trap. "Wait until the blue light fades before jumping."
She nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. She was close. One more turn and—
“Yes!” Michelle shouted, throwing both fists in the air. “I cleared it!”
I laughed. “Told you you could.”
For a mont, her smile was genuine, pure. It made the long hours and grumbling worth it.
Then I heard it.
“—she’s not teaching her anything! The girl’s been glued to that computer all day and this... tutor... just watches like it’s a movie.”
It was the butler’s voice. His words were sharp and low, but the hallway outside wasn’t exactly soundproof.
I froze. Michelle heard it too. Her grin faltered.
“What’s he talking about? But I was studying before this,” she said, looking at incredulously.
The footsteps drew closer.
Too late.
The bedroom door burst open with a loud bang.
I jumped in my seat. Michelle didn’t even flinch.
Gareth stood there, sharp and tense, like a thundercloud ready to crack. His eyes imdiately went to Michelle, still glued to the glowing computer screen, then slowly landed on .
He didn’t look pleased at all.
“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low.
Just three words, but they felt like a slap.
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