Ren was still laughing, he couldnāt help it. The idea of Larissa, the most controlled and diplomatic person he knew, calling herself immature was so absurd that the laughter simply burst out.
It wasnāt mockery, just genuine amusement at the disconnect between her self-perception and reality.
Larissa puffed her cheeks, her expression transforming into something between offended and embarrassed. The gesture was so childish and genuine, that it made Ren doubt the point he was about to make, but...
āNo, itās not about appearance,ā
he thought.
"Donāt laugh!" she protested, though there was no real anger in her voice. More like embarrassed indignation.
Ren raised his hand quickly, still smiling but trying to control himself. "No, donāt take it wrong. Itās just that I find it funny you call yourself immature when youāre the most mature person I know. At almost inhuman levels..."
Larissa looked at him with skepticism, one eyebrow raised. "Really?"
"Really," Ren confirmed, his smile softening into a less amused one. "Look, my father always told me something about women. He said that with my mother and all the girls and women he met in his life, he learned that a man should apologize and just accept the blame. That way one was happier, because from what he knew, it was very difficult for a woman to accept her mistakes."
He paused, considering his words carefully. This was delicate territory, potentially offensive if phrased wrong or left halfway.
"And he told me that when I learned to accept errors even without knowing what they were, Iād be a mature man. But I realize itās not true... You can know all your mistakes if you try hard enough to understand... And I know because... I realize not all are like that. Maybe Iāve seen it with several people, but at least not with you."
He looked at Larissa directly, meeting her eyes with sincerity that made looking away impossible.
"So I think that capacity of yours to accept when youāre wrong demonstrates youāre not immature. Not at all... You try hard to understand, even though we think differently, like different things and are different, you showed me itās just a matter of analyzing carefully what seems normal to us but could bother others."
The words hung between them, heavier than their simple phrasing suggested. An acknowledgment of her efforts, her growth, her willingness.
Larissa sighed and leaned back in her chair, but this time with a small smile touching her lips.
"Thank you."
She let the silence settle for a moment before continuing, gathering her thoughts.
"Itās surprising and stressful... that you worry about and observe others so much but donāt realize why you make us sigh. Could it be that humility implies denial?" Larissa looked at the ceiling and whispered so low it could have been a thought.
Wondering about the disconnect between his self-perception and reality.
"Thereās nothing to thank, really I..." Ren began.
"But I still... feel immature. Because thereās something I want," her voice interrupted him despite being soft, vulnerable, "and I canāt find the āmaturityā to āmake it happenā, ātake itā."
Ren didnāt completely understand what she was referring to, but he spoke anyway...
"If thatās the case," he said carefully, choosing words that felt safe, "then itās still okay."
Larissa blinked, looking at him with confusion. "Why are you so sure itās okay?"
"Itās still okay," Ren repeated, his expression becoming more serious but also warmer. "You have a long life ahead. I donāt see the point in rushing maturity when youāre already so far ahead of all of us."
"Iām ahead?" Larissa repeated, the word tasting strange in her mouth.
"Yes," Ren nodded, conviction in his voice. "You have options, time to decide exactly what you want and how to get it. You donāt need to rush."
Larissa felt something warm expanding in her chest. She knew he didnāt mean exactly what she wanted... But Ren had hit the nail on the head without realizing it.
Without completely understanding what she was talking about, heād said exactly what she needed to hear.
His mana confirmed it. Pure sincerity, no hidden meanings, just genuine care.
"Maybe youāre right," she said finally, her smile becoming more authentic. "Thereās no rush."
Ren smiled too, clearly relieved that the tension was dissolving. His shoulders dropped slightly, the worry lines around his eyes smoothing.
But then Larissa straightened slightly, her expression becoming more serious. Strategic. The diplomat returning from beneath the vulnerable girl.
"Then I want you to promise something."
Ren blinked at the change in tone, caught off guard by the shift. "Promise what?"
"If you say thereās plenty of time," Larissa said carefully, "but if things seem to advance very quickly... youāre going to help me with your entire being not to lose what I want."
Ren frowned slightly, turning over the strange request in his mind.
āHelp her not lose something? If things advance very quickly? Is it a bit of paranoia or insecurity? I suppose itās something she wants a lot and fears losing if she doesnāt hurry to obtain it?ā
It could be about her studies. Or her noble responsibilities. Or maybe some project she had in mind. Larissa always had several plans in progress, multiple schemes running simultaneously.
And if it was about helping her, as sheād asked, then of course he could do it, right? What kind of friend would refuse?
"Okay," he said finally. "If I can help you, Iāll do it without doubt."
"No," Larissa insisted, her voice becoming firmer, her eyes fixed on his with an intensity that made Ren go very still. Like prey suddenly aware of a predatorās focus. "Itās a promise, Ren. Not just an āif I canā. A real promise."
Ren swallowed at the seriousness in her expression. "A promise about what exactly?"
"That when Iām ready to pursue what I want," Larissa said slowly, making sure each word was clear, deliberate, impossible to misinterpret later, "youāre going to make sure I have time to pursue it without rush. That youāre going to do everything possible to listen to my request and my desires. That youāre not going to... let doors close before I can even reach to knock on them."
There was something in how she said it, in the way her cheeks flushed slightly on the last part, that made Ren feel he was missing something important in the conversation. Like reading a book where someone had torn out crucial pages.
But it was also Larissa. His friend. His mentor in noble protocols. The person who had helped him many times without asking anything in return.
If she needed him to promise to help her, support her in whatever she wanted to pursue to feel less anxious and paranoid...
"I promise," he said, his voice firm, conviction making the words feel heavier than he intended. "When youāre ready, Iāll help you. Iāll make sure with my body and soul that you have the time you need."
Larissa smiled, and there was something in that smile that was different from her usual smiles. Brighter. More relieved. More... happy in a way Ren hadnāt seen in months. Like something sheād been carrying had finally been set down.
"Thank you," she said softly. Then, with a more playful tone: "And remember, you promised. You canāt take it back later."
"I donāt take back my promises," Ren responded with seriousness. His word was his bond, always had been.
"I know," Larissa said, her smile widening into something that could almost be called victorious.
She leaned back in her chair, some of the tension sheād been carrying for days finally dissolving.
"So, are you going to tell me whatās really happening with those three girls?"
Ren sighed, knowing this conversation would come. "Itās complicated."
"Everything involving you is complicated," Larissa pointed out with amusement, her tone lighter now. "But I have time."
"Okay," he conceded, settling in for a long explanation.
And as Ren began explaining the situation with Cassia, Seraphina and Jeannette... neither of them realized the real weight of the promise theyād just exchanged.
It was a commitment.
One that Ren had made with complete innocence, thinking he was promising to support a friendās ambitions.
And one that Larissa had asked for with full consciousness of its implications. Or at least what she believed those implications to be.