The dinner was unremarkable, not even worth mentioning. Scarlet acted as she had since entering a Knights' School: without manners and without the dignified "noble" way that Kendra so desperately wanted her to have.
In any case, the mood inside the d'Mary mansion remained low, and this was due to the simple fact that Gael felt terrible. It might seem strange, but he had a power to bring life to the people around him, in a way that they felt motivated and continued to work as hard as ever.
It could have been because of his resemblance to the marquess, or perhaps because of his great personality, what mattered was that all the servants loved him, and seeing him so downhearted demotivated everyone within those walls.
He was, in a way, a beacon of light for the tired and dark souls of those employees who had lost the lord they had worked so hard for over the years. Seeing him return so defeated and dejected hurt more than a thousand stabs to the heart.
No one entered Gael's room that night. He stayed alone, sitting in an armchair facing the window, contemplating the landscape of the garden and the plains. It was a good place to live, without the cacophony of the big city and without the excessive smoke rising from the chimneys. Sometimes, you could even find a lost dog or wolf hunting in the middle of the night.
"What do I do now?"
Well, being a mage was out of the question. Having failed the most prestigious academy, the only thing left was to learn at other, mediocre ones that his money could pay for, but the idea of remaining mediocre didn't sit well with him.
His father, the Marquess d'Mary, was a very talented man with magic, and when he saw Gael's abilities, he decided to adopt him too. But now that didn't matter anymore. He failed to honor his father's wish to become a respected mage.
A heavy sigh left his throat, perfect for reliving memories of the past while the candlelight flickered on the table.
Suddenly, the door let out a creak. Gael immediately turned his head, it was very unusual for servants to visit him at this hour asking for something, or even for him to receive anything at such moments. But, unlike what he expected, the person who entered his room was none other than Scarlet.
She entered as if the room were hers, kicking the door closed with her foot before the cold from the corridor could invade. The light cotton pajamas, wrinkled from use, made it clear that she wasn't there for any formality or to act like a know-it-all. Her hair was tied up messily, with a rebellious strand falling over the face, and her expression mixed impatience with… embarrassment?
"Before you say anything," she began, crossing arms and leaning her shoulder against the door, "I came to apologize for the way I acted earlier."
Gael raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. Scarlet wasn't one to apologize for anything, if she ever killed someone in the middle of the street, she'd probably explain how it was the victim's fault for being in the wrong place.
"Tired from work?"
She let out a sigh and rolled both eyes.
"Exhausted. The patrol in the marquisate is draining my patience. When I saw you with that funeral face, I only made things worse."
Scarlet let the body slide from the door and came over to him, her feet making no sound on the carpet. It was strange to see her walking on tiptoes to avoid making any noise and going barefoot.
"So... I thought... you know, make up for old times."
Gael stared at her, intrigued. She stopped a few steps away, fidgeting with the hem of her pajamas.
"Sleep with me, like we used to when we were kids. I don't want to see that tragic face of yours again."
Before he could answer, Scarlet sat on the edge of the bed and patted her thighs, an invitation for him to lie down. It was a somewhat bizarre sight, for the simple reason that Scarlet's duties weren't simple, in fact, "frightening" would be a more acceptable term than anything else.
Scarlet was the head of the marquisate's guard, a position she acquired after ousting the former head for a corruption scandal. In other words, she was the typical person you'd expect a kind of aggression from, especially with the boyish appearance she'd had since ancient times.
Gael let out a small laugh, getting into bed and looking at the canopy above them. The knight didn't waste any time and took the corner right next to him, stretching her body with a groaning yawn.
"What's so funny?"
"I remembered when we were kids and you always wanted to protect me or cheer me up in one way or another. I guess not much has changed."
"Huh? A lot has changed since then, can't you see?!"
"Well, you haven't become a bit more feminine since then, you've kept the same hair and the same boyish ways... I think mom is worried if you'll ever get a husband. Not working on your femininity led to this."
Veins pulsed on Scarlet's forehead. She jumped over Gael and grabbed him by the neck, the urge to choke him was immense.
"Oh yeah? Are you telling me I have no appeal? You're asking to die..."
He repeatedly tapped her hands, as it was slowly killing him and those calloused hands were too strong for a person of his scrawny build to bear.
She loosened her grip, puffing proudly while showing a smug smile. This was a very bad sign, because when that expression appeared, it meant a challenge had been thrown down and she would prove otherwise no matter what.
The question was... how would Scarlet prove her femininity?
"You're an ass sometimes", she said. "Even when I want to help you and be a cool sister, you still throw out acidic comments like that, but I have a lot of faith in my body."
Scarlet's hands went to the hem of her pajamas, pulling them up. Gael's first reaction was to hide his face with his hands, but it became impossible to see her above him, flaunting her bare skin and breasts.