༺ Chapter 222 - The Struggles of a Fiancée (1) ༻
The food Olivia made disappeared faster than it had any right to.
It wasn’t because Soren and Esper were starving, even though the first mouthful had reminded Soren just how empty his stomach had been, it was because Olivia’s cooking had that quiet, disarming kind of warmth to it.
Simple ingredients, clean flavours, nothing wasted, the kind of al that didn’t try to impress you with extravagance, it just settled in your chest and made everything inside your head go a little quieter.
Soren finished his plate before he fully realised he was close to the last bite.
Esper did the sa, then leaned back in her chair with a long, satisfied stretch, arms overhead, spine arching like she was trying to wring every last bit of comfort out of the mont.
“Mmm… okay, fine, that was amazing~”
Olivia’s cheeks flushed instantly, colour blooming up from her neck.
“It was just… normal.”
Soren picked up his mug again and took a slow sip, letting the warmth settle into his throat.
“It was good,” he said simply. “Thanks.”
Olivia blinked like she didn’t know what to do with a complint that wasn’t wrapped in teasing, then defaulted to the safest thing possible, she turned away and started clearing plates as if the dishes had personally demanded her attention.
Esper’s eyes followed her with lazy amusent, gaze bright even while her posture stayed relaxed.
“You know, if you keep doing this, you’re going to ruin the marriage market. No man is going to recover from eting the perfect wife.”
Olivia’s head snapped up.
“I’m not—!”
Esper waved a hand, already dismissing the protest.
“Yes you are. Cute, cooks, polite, doesn’t shout… it’s kinda disgusting.”
Soren glanced at Esper, expression flat.
“Has anyone ever told you that you need to learn when to shut up?”
Esper’s gaze slid to him, eyes narrowing with playful intent.
“Oh? So you’re saying she isn’t cute?”
Olivia froze like her entire body had been hit with a debuff, shoulders locked, hands hovering mid-movent over the plates.
Her mouth opened and closed once, no sound coming out, like her brain had short-circuited.
Soren didn’t bother pretending.
“She’s cute, obviously, anyone can see that.”
Olivia made a small sound that might have been a protest if it wasn’t muffled by sheer embarrassnt, then turned away so fast she almost knocked a fork off the table.
Esper clapped her hands together once, delighted.
“See? Look at that. Cutie’s confirming it. He’s never wrong~”
Olivia’s shoulders rose as if she was trying to hide inside herself.
She started washing with exaggerated determination, scrubbing hard enough that it looked like she was trying to erase the conversation from existence through sheer force.
Soren watched her for a second, then decided to throw her a lifeline before she actually wore a hole through the plate.
“Ignoring… that thing,” he said, nodding vaguely toward Esper without looking at her, “the food was great. Seriously. Thanks.”
Olivia paused for a fraction of a second, then nodded without turning around.
“You’re welco.”
Esper leaned forward on her elbows with a grin, completely unrepentant.
“Anyti, Alex’s future wife.”
Olivia’s hands stopped.
She inhaled slowly through her nose like she was counting to ten, then grabbed her bag with a sharp motion, movents clipped in a way that didn’t match her usual carefulness.
“I’m leaving,” she announced.
Esper blinked innocently.
“Why? We’re being so nice~”
“You’re being annoying,” Olivia corrected, cheeks still red.
Then she looked at Soren briefly, and her expression softened for a heartbeat, warmth peeking through the fluster.
“I’ll see you later.”
Soren lifted his hand slightly.
“Later.”
Olivia practically escaped, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that felt like self-defence.
The dining room settled in her absence.
Without Olivia in front of them, the space felt larger again, and quieter too, like the room had been depending on her small movents and soft sounds to fill in the gaps.
Even the mana lights felt less cheerful when Esper wasn’t forcing the atmosphere to stay bright.
Soren set his mug down and studied Esper for a mont.
She still looked put together.
Hair perfect, outfit coordinated, face flawless in that effortless way Esper always managed.
Yet the makeup did look heavier today, like it had been built with purpose rather than for fun, and the contrast between “perfect” and “tired underneath” was hard to unsee once it registered.
He didn’t comnt.
Instead, he asked the simplest question he could, the one that didn’t corner her.
“So what’re you doing for the rest of today?”
Esper tapped her nails against the table a few tis, the sound light and rhythmic, and it went on just long enough that Soren recognised what it was.
Stalling.
Even if she didn’t an to.
Then she shrugged, shoulders lifting with a careless ease that didn’t fully match her eyes.
“Nothing,” she said, tone airy. “Maybe rot. Maybe stare at the ceiling and contemplate the pointlessness of existence. The usual.”
Soren raised an eyebrow.
“That’s new.”
Esper’s smile ca easily, but it didn’t reach as deep as it usually did.
“I’m evolving.”
He didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push either.
If she wanted to talk, she would, and if she didn’t, forcing it would just make her dig her heels in harder until the conversation beca a performance instead of sothing real.
A few seconds passed.
Then soft footsteps ca from the hallway.
The door to one of the bedrooms cracked open, and Alia stepped out, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand, hair slightly ssy from sleep.
She looked half-awake and mildly offended by being conscious at all, like waking up had been a personal attack.
Her gaze landed on Soren.
She walked over without hesitation and dropped into the seat beside him like it had been reserved.
“Morning,” Soren said, voice warming without him trying.
Alia grunted.
“Mm.”
Her shoulder bumped into his, and her head followed a second later, settling against him with the quiet certainty of soone claiming what was theirs.
“Did you bring a brush?”
Alia didn’t respond, just placing it in one in his hands without bothering to raise her head.
Soren’s hand moved automatically, brush sliding into her hair in a slow stroke, steadily untangling the ssy bed hair.
Alia exhaled and went heavier, the last of her sleepiness lting into contentnt like it had been waiting for contact to finish waking up.
Across the table, Esper watched them.
For a mont, her expression softened in a way that didn’t feel like teasing at all, the kind of look that slipped through when she forgot to act like everything was a joke.
Then she blinked, like she rembered what she had co here for, and her posture shifted.
“Cutie,” she said.
Soren glanced at her.
“Yeah?”
“I actually need to talk to you about sothing.”
The words were casual.
The atmosphere behind them wasn’t.
Esper’s eyes flicked to Alia, still leaning against him, and her voice turned pointedly sweet.
“Privately.”
Alia’s ears flicked, and she lifted her head just enough to glare at Esper without fully waking up.
Soren felt the change properly then.
It wasn’t dramatic, but it was real, and Esper not playing right now was enough to put him on alert.
He kept his voice even.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Alia’s lips pressed into a pout so obvious it almost made him laugh.
She leaned her forehead into his shoulder in protest, a small bump that carried far too much emotion for how little movent it was.
Soren gave her hair one more slow stroke.
“Can you wait?” he asked quietly.
Alia stayed still for a few seconds, like she was considering whether to refuse on principle, then, in a voice that sounded like it physically hurt her to say it, she mumbled a single word.
“Fine.”
Soren’s mouth curved slightly.
“Thanks.”
He pushed himself up, grabbing his cloak from where it had been draped over the chair, and as he swung it over his shoulders, he looked back at Esper.
“Where are we going?”
Esper yawned, and the sound was too real to be performative.
“I don’t care. Sowhere quiet.”
“Let’s go to a cafe, then, we just ate,” Soren decided.
Esper shrugged again, but she stood.
Soren paused by Alia’s seat and gave her a light tap on the head, more affection than instruction.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
Alia’s eyes narrowed like she didn’t like it, but she lifted her hand anyway and waved once, small and reluctant.
Soren left before she could change her mind and follow him.
As soon as they stepped into the corridor, Esper’s shoulders loosened slightly, as if she had been holding tension in place while Alia was close enough to bite her.
She walked beside Soren with her hands tucked into her sleeves, stride unhurried, posture still composed, still elegant, yet there was sothing restless sitting under the surface, the kind of energy that didn’t match the pace she was forcing herself to keep.
A few steps later, her voice returned to its usual playfulness, but the tone sat wrong, like a mask that didn’t fit properly today.
“So,” Esper began, drawing the word out, “is the Wild Wolf officially tad now? Should we throw a ceremony? Put a collar on her? Maybe a—”
Soren glanced at her.
The joke didn’t land the way it usually would.
The words were there, and the delivery had the familiar lilt, yet the effort behind it made it feel strained, almost forced, like she was filling space because silence might crack sothing open.
He didn’t call her out on it.
He simply responded in the sa calm tone he always used when he didn’t want to make a big deal out of sothing.
“She’s not a dog.”
Esper humd.
“Could’ve fooled ~”
Soren didn’t answer that.
They walked in silence for a short while, the academy’s pathways quieter than usual on the weekend.
A few students passed them, none close enough to interrupt, and none bold enough to approach Esper when she wore that particular kind of “smiling but untouchable” energy.
Esper kept moving like she wasn’t in a hurry, but Soren could feel it anyway, the impatience hiding under her steps, the way her attention kept slipping forward as if she wanted to arrive already so she could stop pretending everything was fine.
When they reached the cafe, Soren didn’t bother with an open table.
He asked for one of the private rooms instead.
The staff recognised him quickly and led them down a side corridor without questions, the kind of efficiency that ca from the academy regulars who paid well and caused problems rarely enough to be rembered fondly.
The room they were given was small and warm, built to dampen sound.
A table, two seats, soft mana lights, and walls that made the outside world feel distant.
There was nothing else to distract, nothing to hide behind, which ant whatever Esper had co to say would have to exist in the open.
Esper sat down first, resting her elbows on the tabletop, fingers lacing and unlacing as if she didn’t know where to put her hands.
Soren took the seat across from her, cloak still on, posture relaxed without being careless, the way he sat when he wanted to be approachable but also needed to stay ready.
He studied her face one more ti.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect smile.
And tired eyes underneath it all, the kind that didn’t belong to soone who was just here to gossip or tease.
He didn’t soften his voice into a joke.
He didn’t prod.
He just gave her the opening.
“So, what’s up?”
————「❤︎」————
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