Chapter 354: Rules for a Peaceful Dinner

"Checkmate."

"Ugh... how is it possible I haven’t won once? I should’ve taken more chess classes when I was little..."

"You lack experience. With practice you’ll get better—no, you’ve already improved more in the last hour than most would."

"Heh-heh, that’s right, I’m a genius. If I had the same amount of experience you do, little brother, you’d never beat me in a million years."

Looking at Jasmine’s smug expression across the table as she reset the chessboard, Azriel shrugged.

"I don’t doubt it."

He probably didn’t.

"Please don’t tell me you two are starting another one."

At the voice, Jasmine glanced toward the bed and smirked. Celestina lay there, watching the siblings with an annoyed look, grumbling under her breath.

"What is it, Celestina? Are you jealous—want to play with us?"

Celestina narrowed her eyes.

"...Yes, very jealous. My jealousy will surely lessen if you leave my room now instead of playing chess and refusing to share any important information."

Jasmine turned back to the board, setting pawns in their places.

"Well, my little brother needs to be brought up to speed, doesn’t he? So much has happened these past few months—I might as well multitask."

Azriel said nothing. Frankly, about a quarter of what Jasmine had said wasn’t important; another quarter was; and the remaining half either hadn’t been said yet or, if it had, he’d already forgotten it—making it unimportant anyway.

"...And you have to do that in my room? Why not in yours?" Celestina continued.

"And what was the reason you two got into a fight three days ago and wrecked Azriel’s room entirely? Despite that, you’re as close as ever and keep visiting my room... Neither of you ever makes sense."

It had indeed been three days—today was the fourth—of Azriel doing little besides spending time with Jasmine, or rather observing her as she helped him catch up on everything he’d missed: playing board games like chess, eating, sleeping, and repeating. Conveniently, no one could visit him; he hadn’t allowed anyone except Jasmine. Nol might have, but... he hadn’t come once. Not many people knew where Azriel was staying now, but the room was good, and he was well received there thanks to Jasmine. The maids kept their distance; no one tried any funny business.

Jasmine looked back and, all at once, smiled with a warm, unexpectedly mature softness.

"Do you hate it so much that we’re using your room?"

At her face and the question, Celestina glanced away, suddenly a little shy, then looked back with troubled eyes.

"I didn’t say that... It almost reminds me of when the both of us were young. It’s just—last time, at the academy, you told me we should act more like the heiresses of our clans and keep our distance. And now you’re... well..."

Jasmine closed her eyes, still smiling, and nodded.

"I suppose those were my words. But lately I’ve realized there are more important things in the universe than how others perceive us. At the very least, we are both heiresses—the future rulers of Asia. The universe is already as bad as it can be, with little hope to spare. If we choose a closer bond and it makes some people anxious about the balance between the Four Great Clans, they can cry about it and deal with it themselves. It isn’t right to strip away the small bits of happiness we have left while we’re already responsible for humanity’s future."

Celestina’s eyes widened.

"For you to say this so suddenly..." She stopped, pressed her lips together, then asked—almost in a whisper—"...does this mean you want to go back to how we used to be?"

Jasmine opened her eyes and looked at her gently.

"Yes. As long as you want to. Do you?"

"I..." Celestina opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"I—I need to take a shower," she stammered, hurrying to her feet and heading for the bathroom.

"The bell is on the table next to the bed to call the maids."

But as Jasmine pointed it out, Celestina swept past them.

"I don’t need them," she said quickly, slipped into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Jasmine blinked at the closed door, then giggled.

"It seems she’s embarrassed..."

She glanced down at herself and smiled.

"I shouldn’t have started distancing myself from her in the first place."

Meanwhile, Azriel was still watching Jasmine in silence—expressionless, and hardly blinking.

Of course she noticed.

"You’ve been staring at me so intensely these past few days. I honestly thought you’d stop, but you’re ruining the touching moment I just had with Celestina..."

Jasmine shot him an annoyed look. Azriel glanced away, a little guilty.

"Sorry. It’s just... I thought you’d ask me more questions, but you haven’t. You’re acting like everything’s normal and, well... I’m a bit worried."

Jasmine’s face went still; a little color drained from her cheeks.

"W-well, if I start crying and falling apart all the time, how would that help? I... I do have questions. A lot of them. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Or hurt you."

"You acting like everything’s fine—and tiptoeing around me—that’s exactly what makes me uncomfortable," he said quietly.

"You don’t even call me ’Azriel’ anymore. Just ’little brother.’ Please... ask what you want. I’m not that fragile."

She’d been afraid that calling him Azriel would somehow hurt him—that it might deny the name he once had: Leo. Jasmine pressed her lips together and looked down at the chessboard.

"You say that, but I hurt you so much you got scared and started crying at the thought I’d leave you—and I practically forced you to tell me everything."

Azriel’s eyes widened; his mouth twitched.

"You don’t want to make me uncomfortable? Then never bring that up again."

She panicked.

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you remem—"

"Argh! Stop. Stop, alright? I get it. I get that you don’t want to hurt me."

He groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. This had been the pattern these past few days: Jasmine treating him like a sculpture of ice that might shatter at the slightest touch. Since confessing his secrets, he’d simply felt drained—like his battery had run dry. Who knew telling the truth could be so exhausting?

Jasmine realized it too; she looked away, embarrassed.

"...Sorry."

He sighed and softened.

"It’s fine. It’s not like I don’t understand. But honestly... part of me thinks it would’ve been easier if you’d just started hating me."

Jasmine folded her arms on the table, set her cheek on them, and gazed up at him.

"But I don’t hate you. I just think the universe has been brutally unfair to you—made you suffer for nothing. And you don’t need to worry. I’m not ever leaving you. Even if the universe is against you."

Her words tugged a wry smile from him.

"You’ve gotten even cheesier than you already were."

"If that’s what it takes to get through to you, so be it."

"Hah. Maybe you should’ve hated me—at least my ears would be spared your cringy speeches."

"You want to say that again?"

"...No."

He was, to his surprise, impressed—frightened—and grateful. Maybe he didn’t deserve Jasmine. How could anyone be this kind?

The thought had barely formed when Jasmine slammed her palms on the table. The chess pieces clattered, toppled, and scattered to the floor.

"I’ve decided!"

Azriel stared at the mess, then at her resolute expression. He gave up and leaned back.

"Decided what?"

"You’re coming with me tomorrow evening."

"Coming... where?"

He blinked, genuinely confused.

"Tomorrow, the Count’s invited us all to dinner," she said.

"Lioren, Caleus, and Celestina already accepted, so I did too to save face. Princess Veronica and the Dusk twins will be there, along with others the Count invited personally. I think now that Cadet Yelena has awakened, he wants to gauge where he stands in his own estate—and what move he should make."

"And you weren’t planning to bring me?"

At his tone, Jasmine began to fluster, afraid she’d hurt him.

"I-it’s just... I thought it would be a bad idea! Out of everyone, you’ve been through the most in this scenario and, well..."

Her face darkened.

"A dinner table full of high-ranking humans— and children of the great clans? Even a non-genius could guess you and they won’t... mix."

Azriel scratched his hair, troubled. She had a point. A very, very good point. If he went, chances were high he’d end up in a fight. High-ranking humans seemed constitutionally unable to keep their mouths shut; they’d almost certainly ’subtly’ insult him—or Jasmine. And Veronica and the Dusk twins... that promised chaos. The kind where someone might not walk away alive.

So he understood why she hadn’t told him earlier. It was a matter of life and death.

"So why the change? Why decide I should come now? I do get why I shouldn’t."

"Because you’re right," she said. "If I hide you from those... those filth, it’ll only make things worse later. Better everyone learns where they stand now than after the damage is done." She paused, thinking, then grimaced.

"The more I talk, the more I’m having second thoughts. No, seriously—are we sure this is a good idea? You still have that Mana Core Syndrome, and you said it yourself: the more mana you use, the worse it gets. And even without that—wait. Maybe I’m wrong. We shouldn’t do this at all. Who knows what they’ll do—and what trouble you might create?"

Azriel’s brow twitched.

"Aren’t you overreacting? I won’t start trouble as long as they don’t. And even if they do—if it’s Veronica and the Dusk twins—I can handle them with half a dozen handicaps. I already told you I know a cure for Mana Core Syndrome. As long as we get out of this scenario, I’m not dying anytime soon. I just need to avoid being reckless with my mana—doesn’t mean I can’t use it."

Reckless like trying to forge a mana contract. Or pouring out his aura to shield himself and Jasmine from Lucifer’s pressure—only to find it barely helped.

Jasmine bit her lip, thinking hard. At last she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

"Yeah. I trust you. And you’re right. Let’s do it. We’ll go to the dinner together tomorrow."

Smiling at Jasmine’s decision, Azriel’s relief was short-lived.

"But."

His smile dimmed as Jasmine raised three fingers.

"There are three rules you’ll follow if you want to come with me."

If he hadn’t been feeling lazy, a vein might have burst.

"Fine. As long as they’re not absurd—say them."

He clicked his tongue and relented.

"First: no mood swings at dinner."

"Again with the mood swings! When have I ever had any? I’m probably one of the best people alive at controlling his emotions!"

"See? You don’t even notice when they start! Ugh, forget it. It must be a side effect of having all those lives and memories crammed into your head! No wonder you’re crazy—j-just try to always stay calm when we are there, okay?"

"...What crazy? I’m the sanest prince there is."

"There you go again! ’Sanest’? At this point, Dad might have a healthier mind than yours!"

"But—"

"Forget it!"

She lowered one finger and went on.

"Second: don’t start any fights."

"So as long as I don’t start them, it’s fine?"

"No! Just stay out of them!"

"...Fine."

"See! Why do you suddenly sound disappointed? I can’t tell if you love or hate fights!"

"You’re overthinking it."

"Like hell..!"

"Fine, fine. I promise—as the sane, peace-loving prince I am—to stay out of any fight."

"Good."

Jasmine nodded, then narrowed her eyes; her voice dropped, suddenly solemn.

"And third, most important of all..."

Azriel leaned forward, bracing for something dire.

"I get to eat your desserts."