CHAPTER 90: ASSAULT AND AFFECTION

As they walked past the closed bakeries, still hunting for a place to eat, Aveline suddenly turned.

"While we’re here..." She said with a sly smirk, the corners of her lips curving like she was about to stir some mischief.

There was a glint in her eye—a familiar one Marcus had seen many times before. The kind of look that spelled trouble.

"Are you two... dating or something?" she asked, the question laced with mock innocence and the unmistakable curiosity of a nosy sister poking her nose where it didn’t belong.

Cynthia flailed her hands in front of her, flustered. "I already said we’re just friends!" she replied quickly, her voice high-pitched with embarrassment.

Aveline pouted, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. She turned her head toward Marcus with a look that screamed your turn.

"And how about you, brother...?" she asked sweetly, almost too sweetly. "What do you think of Cynthia here?"

Marcus froze for half a second, contemplating his response like a warrior choosing a weapon before battle.

’I do have a dating sim feature embedded in my already broken system... might as well make use of it while I can,’ he thought, remembering the flirt techniques his companions used to practice religiously back in the day.

With a soft smile, he said, "Well, I think she’s a fairly lovely girl to have around."

His voice was calm, confident—maybe too confident.

Cynthia blinked, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks as she let out a flustered chuckle. "Oh please... I still

remember the time in the Forest of Trials when it looked like you were about to fall for me," she teased, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint.

Aveline raised an eyebrow, watching the sparks fly with a knowing grin.

"Honestly, Marcus, that sounds like something a grandpa would say," she quipped, rolling her eyes. "What are you, fifty in a teenager’s body?"

Cynthia burst into laughter, nodding in agreement. "Well, he does seem mature compared to everyone else."

Aveline snorted and folded her arms. "My brother? Mature? Please. Quite the opposite, actually."

"Tch." Marcus clicked his tongue audibly, unamused. "Oh please. I’ve changed quite a bit, thank you very much."

Cynthia let out a long yawn, the kind that slipped out despite her trying to hold it back. The hour was wearing on her.

"But even while we’re talking about this," she murmured between stretches, "I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one occupying the space in his heart..." Her voice turned sing-song as she winked, cheeky and sharp.

Aveline’s eyes widened like she’d just uncovered the juiciest secret of the century. "My weak, pathetic little brother is a playboy? Oh, how I would love to tell Mother and Father about this..."

Marcus didn’t wait. He immediately reached out, grabbing Aveline in a light, brotherly chokehold.

"That’s enough from you," he growled, playfully, tightening just enough to ruffle her hair.

"Hey—bastard!" Aveline coughed, kicking out at his leg. Her boot smacked him square in the shin, making him let go with a sharp grunt.

Marcus retaliated by flicking her forehead with practiced precision. "Quiet, gremlin."

Then he turned to Cynthia, his tone back to casual. "You mean Victoria? We’re not dating. We just happened to have a lot in common, that’s all."

Cynthia covered her mouth, barely stifling her laugh. "That’s where it all starts, you know?"

Aveline, not one to let a chance for revenge slip, sidled up with a smug look. "Polygamy is an option, brother," she added innocently. "I could even tell Father to—"

Before she could finish, Marcus lunged for another flick to her forehead.

Marcus felt his eyebrow twitch. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—Aveline’s smug tone, Cynthia’s wink, or the fact that he was starting to enjoy these ridiculous conversations more than he should.

Was this how friendships were supposed to feel? Or was he just losing his edge?

But this time, she was ready.

Aveline caught his finger mid-air and twisted it with a wicked grin.

"AGHH—!" Marcus cried out, his voice cracking through the silent night as he flailed like a cornered cat.

"Okay! FINE! You win!" he shouted, his voice echoing down the moonlit street.

Aveline released his finger with the kind of triumphant smirk that only sisters mastered. "Remember your place, mongrel," she said with mock authority as they continued their stroll, hunting for an open diner.

Marcus cradled his abused finger, eyebrows twitching.

’What the hell? She’s an absolute beast...’

he thought grimly, eyeing her from behind.

Then he muttered under his breath, "What are you... an ogre?"

The moment the word left his mouth, Aveline stopped.

Like—dead stop.

A visible vein popped on her forehead as she slowly turned around, her eyes glowing with impending doom.

"Huh?" she said sweetly. Too sweetly.

Before Marcus could react, she spun around and planted a perfectly timed straight kick into his stomach.

"CALL YOUR SISTER AN OGRE AGAIN!" she yelled with full force, her voice carrying through the night.

Marcus stumbled back, wheezing, while Cynthia jumped in surprise—though her expression was more entertained than shocked.

Cynthia hid her face behind her hand, trying not to laugh too loudly.

’Is this what having siblings felt like?’ she wondered.

Loud, ridiculous, and... kind of wonderful.

"Wow..." she muttered to herself. "This dynamic is something else."

Marcus rubbed his chest where Aveline’s kick landed. It still hurt. But oddly, it was the kind of pain that reminded him he belonged here.

As they rounded the corner, Aveline was already muttering to herself, debating whether to order something spicy once they found an open diner.

Cynthia walked a little closer to Marcus and whispered, "Don’t worry—I’ll help you walk when she breaks your legs next time."

Marcus let out a dry chuckle, still rubbing his chest. Just then, a warm breeze rolled past them, carrying the unmistakable scent of roasted spices and freshly baked bread. It curled around them like an invitation, subtle at first—then stronger with each step as they turned the corner.

Aveline’s eyes lit up the moment she spotted the soft, amber glow of lights up ahead.

"There," she said, pointing with satisfaction.

Marcus exhaled, long and grateful.

"Finally. Somewhere I won’t be assaulted."