Nana stepped back and shut the door to the private study without a sound, having set a bottle of wine and a plate of confections upon the marble table.
Silence settled over the room at once, leaving the two of them alone.
Grace glanced at the man briefly. At that very moment, their eyes met.
That fleeting contact made Grace's heart beat far more fiercely than it had when she was held in Ian's close embrace only moments before.
He always carried an air of composure that seemed almost unshakeable. Yet, having observed him at such close proximity for some time now, Grace had grown certain that his calm was not a wall deliberately erected to keep others at a distance — rather, it was simply the most fundamental part of who he was.
They rarely crossed paths. Aside from Ian's need to guard the secrecy of his identity, Grace had long since learned that he was no resident of Kaiserheim. Her quiet inquiries had gradually narrowed toward the southern territories of the Empire, to the domain of the Southern Duke.
His black hair and those dark, fathomless eyes were too striking to overlook. Across the whole of the southern lands, only two men bore that precise combination. Dark hair alone was hardly uncommon, yet this particular union of features had never been recorded in the lineage of any known bloodline. Stranger still, physical traits as conspicuous as his had never once drawn serious scrutiny from outside parties. There was only one explanation that could account for such a thing: power.
The patriarch of that family wielded dominance so absolute that it suppressed every potential threat before it could ever take root. It was that very power which had rendered the previous Guild Master incapable of mounting any meaningful resistance when he stood before him.
Grace recognized a truth she could not dispute: this man was considerably younger than herself. Had the priests of the grand temple been able to peer into her thoughts, they would surely have declared her mad for harbouring such feelings toward this enigmatic young man. Yet Ian's maturity blurred that boundary of age until it seemed to mean almost nothing at all.
"Why, Grace?" His voice was unhurried, carrying the ease of someone who was not truly asking. "You have been watching me."
Her gaze shifted swiftly to another corner of the room.
Warmth crept into her cheeks. She reached for her glass, feigning occupation.
"No... no. I was not watching you."
"You are nervous."
"Who is nervous?" She gathered her courage and met his gaze directly, a challenge in her eyes.
"A rather amusing woman."
"What?!"
"Never mind."
Grace furrowed her brow.
That tone — light, almost languid — made her wish the marble table could speak and bear witness to just how insufferable this man was. The way Ian spoke to her always felt as though a grown man were patiently indulging a small child.
If only she had reached the age deemed appropriate by society, Grace swore she would have compelled him to drain every last drop of wine on the table.
Yet there was one thing she could not deny: Ian's maturity surpassed that of most men who had already seen more than twenty years. There were even moments when Grace suspected he had falsified his age. But every document and credible record she had managed to gather told the same story — he truly was that young.
Her thoughts drifted briefly back to the earlier moment. When she had sat upon Ian's lap and he had remarked that she felt heavy. She studied herself for a moment, yet found nothing to support his claim.
Grace set her glass down.
"Mister Raven?"
"Yes?"
"Am I... heavy?"
Ian regarded her for a moment, his expression unchanged. "Whatever made you think that?"
"You said so yourself, just now."
"That was careless of me. I beg your pardon."
Grace deliberately closed the distance between them, shifting until she could feel the warmth radiating from him. Her gaze held fast to his, pressing with quiet intimacy, willing him to have no room to evade her and no choice but to answer in full honesty.
Yet his unchanging calm only vexed her further. It cost her a great deal of pride merely to crack that composed exterior, even for a fleeting instant as had happened not long before.
"I want an honest answer, not simply a formal apology from you."
"So you wish for the truth?"
"Then speak."
"Very well, Grace. Yes."
Something lodged itself in her chest.
"So you are saying I am heavy?"
He gave a slow shake of his head. His hand moved to lift a small confection from the ceramic dish upon the table. He placed it in his mouth and chewed unhurriedly, as though this exchange troubled him not at all.
"That is a conclusion of your own reasoning, not a statement from me."
"Is that so? Forget it, then. I have no wish to discuss this further."
"As you like."
The warmth of his earlier embrace had been satisfying enough for the time being, though she still desired more. While Ian remained in this room, Grace intended to make full use of the opportunity.
Without dwelling on it further, she rested her head against his shoulder.
Strangely, Ian raised no objection, nor did he draw away. He simply said nothing, allowing Grace to lean against the solid warmth of his shoulder.
Her thoughts wandered briefly to the Academy. This year, that place would become a new arena thick with political scheming, given the arrival of several influential figures from across the continent.
"Grace."
"What is it?"
"I do not have a great deal of time."
"And?"
"Give me the important information first."
Grace shut her eyes for a moment.
"I have missed you." Her voice came out quieter than she had intended. "We have not seen each other in quite some time. Is that rigid report truly more pressing than keeping me company right now?I have worked tirelessly for weeks, and you repay me with a coldness like this."
"We can speak of that after..."
"No."
If Ian allowed even a little distance to ease today, there was no promise he would not vanish behind those same walls come tomorrow. She knew that pattern far too well.
What she needed was something stronger than a moment.
A vow.
Ian always kept his word. And that was the one opening Grace knew how to use.
"I want assurance, Mister Raven."
"Your words are vague."
"Promise me you will give me more of your time today." Grace held her breath a moment before continuing. "If you will not, then I shall not share a single piece of information with you."
"Is that a threat?"
His tone had grown considerably colder than before. The hair at Grace's nape prickled from the hidden pressure lurking beneath that measured voice. Even so, she forced herself to hold her ground.
She lifted her head from Ian's shoulder and straightened her back, then rose to stand directly before him. That bold gaze drove straight into the pair of pitch-black eyes that so resembled polished obsidian.
"Take it as you will. Now do what you usually do to me when your patience runs thin. Use your magic and take the information directly from my mind by force."
"Grace..."
"What is it? You do not wish to waste time, do you? Is that not something you have done to me before?"
The man did not stir. And that, above all else, was what wounded her most. Even after she had dared this much, Ian showed not a trace of feeling.
If, after everything she had said, he still chose to use that method of compulsion, then his answer was plain enough.
I hold no special place in his eyes.
Nothing more than a pawn to be used and discarded at will.
Then something unexpected came to pass. Slowly, his hand extended toward her. That gentle movement held her still for an instant.
Ian took hold of Grace's hands — which had grown cold — and enclosed them in a firm, steady grip. His gaze, all the while, remained fixed upon Grace's honey-brown eyes, without the slightest attempt to look away.
"Very well, Grace. I shall honour your wish this once."
***
It ends like this again.
Refusing Grace always leaves something unsettled, lingering far longer than it ought to. Guilt crept in the moment she named my ability with a boldness that felt almost like defiance. In the past, I had cast the Sharingan's genjutsu upon her without a moment's hesitation.
Anyone else in her position would have chosen to leave long ago. As far as possible, without looking back. Yet Grace remains here, in this Guild, waiting for an arrival that never carried any certainty.
There is no harm in granting her wish this once. Consider it an apology I have never been capable of offering aloud.
"I want to sit here the whole day."
"That is excessive, Grace."
"I know."
Sitting in my lap the entire day. I truly cannot fathom what advantage she imagines from a way of thinking I have never been able to predict.
Furthermore, she had deliberately loosened the upper bodice of her gown before resting her entire weight into my lap. From such close proximity, the action glaringly exposed the curves of her chest, revealing the full, porcelain cleavage of her breasts beneath the light of the magic crystals.
Each time she shifted or drew breath, her smooth skin brushed faintly against my attire, sending a strange, unsettling sensation that disrupted my focus. I could not so much as lower my head without my gaze dropping directly into that valley.
"Your scent is very masculine, Mister Raven."
"Grace, sit still. Do not go about sniffing me like this."
She only pressed her nose closer to my chest, inhaling as though she had discovered something utterly fascinating.
"This is my wish for today."
"Novaria will think you have truly taken leave of your senses."
"Let her. Besides, what can those pointed ears of hers do? I can dispatch her on a mission to some distant territory whenever I please."
"The two of you are still as difficult to reconcile as ever. You misuse your authority far too readily."
"Hmph, no matter. That old woman is insufferable."
Among all the members of Nightshade Guild, Novaria was their finest operative in the art of surveillance. Unfortunately, her disposition and Grace's rarely aligned. Outside of Guild matters, the two invariably found reason to needle each other.
I allowed Grace's strange behaviour to continue. Stopping her now would accomplish nothing.
My visit today had a clear purpose. Beyond the latest intelligence, I wished to see the results of several matters I had entrusted entirely to her.
Grace moved again, unexpectedly.
Both her hands rose, her arms winding tightly around my neck. I attempted to turn away, but the effort came to nothing. Her hold drew my face steadily downward until almost no space remained between us.
"I have something important to tell you."
Her boldness compelled me to maintain composure with considerably more effort than usual.
"Good. Then tell me."
"I will. But stay just like this." She did not loosen her hold. "We ought to look at each other the way lovers do when sharing a secret, Mister Raven."
"You ask a great deal."
"Is that not precisely how lovers are meant to be?"
"We are not."
"Then let us become so."
"Do you truly want that, Grace?"
Her eyes widened at once.
At this closeness I could feel a faint tremor move through her entire frame. My words had evidently shaken her far more deeply than she had anticipated.
Slowly she bowed her head, attempting to escape my gaze — the very gaze that followed the game she herself had begun. A flush crept steadily across both her ears. In all likelihood, her face had suffered the same fate.
The sight put me in mind of Charlotte, of the way my elder sister was always overcome with embarrassment whenever I teased her.
"You... why would you say something like that so suddenly..."
Her voice came out softly, a mingling of nerves and shame.
I let the arms encircling my neck draw tighter, as though she were searching for somewhere to hide that reddening face.
"Let us become so. Was that not precisely what you declared with such confidence only a moment ago?" I held my gaze steady. "And now you lose your nerve after issuing the challenge yourself, Grace."
"Who said I have lost my nerve!"
She looked up sharply. That sudden movement brought the tips of our noses into contact.
Her irises were honey-brown. Beautiful. Her breath grew heavier, its warmth grazing my lips.
She drew her face back several inches out of embarrassment, yet this time she did not look away.
"I have no objection whatsoever, Grace." My voice dropped a note. "However, at present I hold no interest in something called love. The future is not something one can foretell. There may come a day when you find yourself at the darkest point of your life — simply because you chose to remain at my side."
"..."
In truth, there was nothing wrong with forging such a bond with Grace.
If this arrangement kept her at my side and proved of benefit to the Guild, then it was no loss. Putting an end to this debate with certainty was far preferable to allowing my thoughts to be continually disturbed by a desire that had never taken shape.
Grace slowly raised both her hands.
Her palms came to rest gently against either side of my face. Her skin was smooth and warm — nothing at all to suggest she was a formidable Auror with considerable mastery of the blade.
The light in her eyes softened all at once.
That look reminded me of the way Mother used to gaze at Father. Sincere affection, untouched by calculation.
"You are right... it would surely be difficult for me. But it matters not if this begins without love from your side." She smiled. "I only hope you will never cast me aside once you have accepted these feelings."
I had no rebuttal to offer.
"There is no need to pity me." The smile faded by degrees. "Every time you look at me with those eyes, it feels as though you are always standing somewhere far above me. At times, that makes me lose the confidence to remain at your side."
"Grace..."
"I will wait, however long it takes. I will go on accompanying you, supporting you from the shadows, as I have always done — until the day you accept me not because I am of use to you, but because you truly love me."
"That is asking too much, Grace."
"Then what? Do you love me now?"
"..."
"Forget I asked." Her tone grew light again. "At the very least, I am the first, am I not? The first always holds a place no one else can claim."
I gave a slow nod. She was not wrong.
The longer she spoke, the clearer the faint trembling concealed beneath her voice became.
I had read a fair number of romance novels. Yet for the first time, I found myself aware that logic does not always hold an answer to something called love.
I did not know how it would end. Perhaps only time could answer the question Grace had left suspended between us this afternoon.
"Mister Raven?"
"Yes?"
"I know your true origins." She paused briefly. "I am sorry. I did not wish for what is between us to be built upon a foundation of suspicion and falsehood."
"There is no need to apologise. I suspected as much long ago." I allowed the corner of my mouth to move, just slightly. "A woman as perceptive as yourself could never have relented without first investigating my past. Mister Shadow has mentioned you more than once. In his words, you are exceedingly stubborn."
A broad smile broke across her face at once.
"A very fine compliment from a father-in-law."
Not a compliment in any true sense of the word. But no matter. If she wished to interpret it as such, I had no reason to stop her.
Then something landed upon my cheek.
A warm kiss. Brief and tender.
Every part of me went rigid. This was the first time a woman outside my own family had done such a thing. The softness of her lips remained vivid, as though its trace had been left there even after she drew away.
Grace stifled a quiet laugh upon noticing my reaction.
"That is a gift to mark the beginning of our formal bond." Her eyes held a calm radiance. "And when the proper time comes, that gift shall move to your lips — accompanied by something far more precious..."
Her fingers slipped slowly through the opening of my shirt, brushing lightly across my chest. "Until then, be patient a little longer, my guileless man."
Her other hand traced the line of my jaw with a touch that carried almost no weight at all.
"Stop."
"Oh." Her voice carried amusement. "That rigid reaction of yours is truly a pleasure to witness."
"I am not a spectacle."
"Quite right." Her eyes curved faintly. "Because you are my man now."
Grace, you are truly... out of your mind.
I clenched both fists far more tightly than before. My jaw hardened. That featherlight touch was dangerous in its own quiet way, as though it were slowly wearing away the composure I had spent so long building.
I was grateful her hand had not ventured lower. Had it done so, the situation might have proven far more difficult to hold in check.
"One day, I shall be the one to teach you a great many things myself. Consider this an early preparation from your woman, who has considerably more experience than you. And remember — do not think ill of me for it. The time for that has not yet come."
Her fingers tapped lightly against my chest.
"Keep your mind on the affairs at the Academy. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
For the moment, that was the only answer I was capable of giving.