Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Choice
“…You’re actually reacting a bit!”
This was, of course, shouted out by Alman.
While Evelia also wanted Alman to react to her behavior, at least she wouldn’t dash in front of another person like a gust of wind.
From taking off his coat to draping it over Evelia’s shoulders, it took just a few seconds. For Alman, being a knight, a short sprint wasn’t a difficult task, but when he tightly grasped Evelia’s shoulders, he bent over, gasping for breath.
“…”
Evelia looked at the white knight’s uniform draped over her, not saying a word. She obediently slipped her arms into the sleeves that were a bit long for her, and then looked up at Alman. This flustered expression was quite rare for her.
“…I said…” Alman’s fingers twitched, and finally, he stood up, pulling his hand away from Evelia’s shoulder. “No… Hah… What the heck are you doing?”
With a helpless gesture, Alman brushed the stray hair from his forehead and glanced around.
Perhaps due to the poor security of this little path, not many people chose to walk here. Although it was good for cooling down, it was also rather chilly. Just moments ago, when that gust of wind blew in, there were only Evelia and Alman at the base of this wall. The scene of Evelia a moment ago was something Alman was enjoying all by himself.
“…Evel.”
“I’m here, Mr. Alman.”
Compared to the evidently flustered Alman, Evelia showed no signs of emotional change. She was merely concerned whether Alman would like the feeling of the wind blowing, and she lamented that her carefully cultivated “gentle expression” was obscured by her flying skirt.
In fact, even without the skirt, it wouldn’t have looked too gentle anyway, since Evelia’s expression system was quite stiff.
“…”
Alman sighed helplessly through his nose, tapping lightly on his head with his fingers.
He didn’t quite understand why Evelia seemed completely unconcerned about such an incident as her skirt blowing up.
He knew Evelia was a cold person by nature, but… as a girl, she shouldn’t completely lack any sense of shame, right?
If it had been another lady in such a situation, she would probably have run off in embarrassment, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to hide in, or she might have returned home, crying out loud, “I’ll never get married!”
“You’re not always like this, are you?”
Evelia was unbothered, but Alman seemed suddenly very concerned.
This wind wasn’t the first to blow this way; Evelia had faced it many times on her way down. Alman suddenly thought, could it be that this girl had been flying in her skirt all this time?
Although Alman wasn’t a nobleman and didn’t like noble etiquette, thinking of such a thing was still quite terrifying. This wasn’t just a matter of etiquette…
“Yes, it’s been like this the whole way back.”
Anyone would interpret “like this” as referring to the earlier wardrobe malfunction, but Evelia seemed unable to fully grasp that.
After all, for her, a skirt blowing up wasn’t something that required special representation. She simply took Alman’s question as “wearing this new outfit all along,” because she was really quite fond of her new attire.
It’s just about looking at underwear; is there anything to be shy about? If Alman liked it, she could even take it off and give it to him.
Of course, Alman didn’t seem to have such a strange preference.
“…? Huh? Ah…? Wait… Hm…?”
But upon hearing such words, strange scenarios seemed to appear in Alman’s mind.
A young girl with pink hair wearing a white long dress, responding to the adoring gazes of others with a flying skirt and what was beneath it…
…
…He didn’t dare think any further.
Although Alman had fully imagined that scene, he quickly cut that thought off.
To be honest, he felt that Evelia had nothing to do with him.
Moreover, to him, Evelia was merely a “spy of the Second Prince” without any evidence to prove otherwise. Whether she lived or died didn’t impact him much; if she died, he would just have to find that spy again and familiarize himself with her mannerisms, which would be a hassle, but if she really died over some problem, Alman wouldn’t have any special feelings about it.
To put it plainly, Alman had already noticed that if he weren’t being overly sentimental, Evelia was simply using her beauty to draw his attention, a tactic commonly known as “the beauty trap.”
But…
“Ugh… You…”
Alman felt a bit troubled.
He wasn’t annoyed with Evelia, but rather he was annoyed with himself.
Perhaps if he found a secluded corner now and dealt with Evelia beforehand, he could avoid making some mistake.
Yet, he was still hesitant.
He had some connections with “Nightingale House” due to certain matters; he felt a bit sorry for those assassins, but… since they were opposing factions, they should be dealt with promptly…
Should he wait… and observe a bit more?
After all, this girl seemed interesting… but—she was like a ticking bomb, who knows when she might…
Alman glanced at Evelia, who was still wearing his clothes, and coincidentally met her golden eyes, which reflected his own strangely puzzled expression.
His head felt itchy, almost like it was growing a brain.
He should just kill Evelia; after all, there was no one around here. If he struck while she was unprepared, it shouldn’t be too complicated…
But—
“Ah, fine.”
It seemed he was in a mental tug-of-war with himself, ultimately reaching a compromise.
What a gamble this is…
—Whose life am I joking with here?
Forget it… forget it…
Better to regard her as an enemy.
It seems fine now, but if any signs emerge later, he must kill her…
With that thought, Alman turned back to Evelia, his mind focused on matters of life and death, but his mouth continued with casual conversation.
“Were you really flying in your skirt the whole way?”
“Huh?” Evelia tilted her head. “Flying in my skirt? Is this what you mean?”
Saying that, without hesitation and while still in Alman’s knight uniform, she raised her skirt as if intending to reenact what had just happened in front of Alman.
Of course, Alman quickly pulled her skirt back down.
“What’s wrong?”
Evelia blinked.
“Nothing much… You really don’t care at all, do you?”
After hearing this, Evelia halted for a moment, seeming to think of something, her eyes fixed intently on Alman.
“Are you very concerned?”
“Huh?”
Alman displayed an expression of “What does this have to do with me?” but inside, he felt a thud in his heart.
“Are you… concerned about my skirt flying up?”
“I…”
Alman was momentarily speechless, thinking to himself that this girl really should stop being needlessly perceptive.
“Forget it.”
Alman sighed, imagining Evelia possibly experiencing this kind of strange situation again, he beckoned her over with a curl of his finger.
“Are you taking me somewhere?”
“Aren’t you heading back to the manor?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Following behind Alman, Evelia watched as he brought her to his carriage. Unlike an ordinary small carriage, this one was elegantly marked with the emblem of the Knight Order. The platinum color looked dignified and splendid, clearly a color only fit for royalty.
“Evel.”
Alman stood beside the carriage, extending his hand toward Evelia.
“Get in, I’ll take you home.”
