Who The Hell Is Main Character?

There was a courtyard behind the Royal Wings, which almost always remained empty. It had been built into the mountain itself, with dark stone flooring running between low walls and several narrow trees planted along the outer edge.

Beyond the wall, the mountain dropped into a long slope covered in dark green vegetation, and farther below, white clouds moved between the ridges.

The wind was stronger here than inside the academy.

Maeve stood near the wall with both hands resting against the stone ridge, her silk skirt flowed fluently in the gusts of wind and waves of air were clearly coursing through her satin black shirt.

She had come outside because she needed air from the medical wings, and one of the silent places she knew of was this.

Marcellus just followed her. He stood several steps behind her, his beige coat was open and fluttering against the wind, while his one hand was inside his pocket, the other held an apple which he was playing with like it was a ball.

Maeve looked at him from the corner of her eye, and he was smiling.

His emotional state had returned to his usual playful and calm nature.

"I thought I told you to rest in the suite, you’ve used a lot of force, Young Master," she said.

"I was bored," he replied.

"And you’re still not completely fine, why don’t you heal the burns on your own body just like you did for Rafe?" she asked.

"I deserve at least a bit of pain for the sins I’ve committed; you can say I’m repenting," he said, and looked at her.

"Besides, I’m all focused on the beauty of the view at the moment, and with you in the frame, I’d say I could draw a masterpiece of an art if I were an artist," he smiled.

"..." Maeve turned her head toward him, she opened her mouth to speak something, but stopped.

She looked back toward the mountains. The wind was stronger now, and the clouds below the academy had begun to gather around the lower ridges.

From this height, the trees beneath the Royal Wings looked smaller.

"I---can’t keep myself from reporting this back to the family, you know that right?" she said.

"What? The flirting? You’ll report me for that?" Marcellus furrowed his brows.

"No, not this you idio---" Maeve took in a deep breath, "Young Master, I mean the fact that you healed Rafe...I cannot keep it with myself, not when there’s a paper trail and Professor Saige is already aware of this,"

"Oh, I know that," Marcellus nodded.

"If I tell the Severans that you restored Rafe’s body and repaired his Core, they won’t treat it as a medical incident. They’ll treat it as something belonging to House Severan." She said.

"Probably," he replied.

"The might put a lot of restrictions," she said.

"No, they won’t," he replied.

"Why’re you so confident?" She asked.

"I know how to handle situations like these, and the more presence I have the better it is for me," he said.

"So, make the call, from now, I think I’ll start changing the narrative," he added.

’What’s he thinking?’ she thought, and hesitated.

She took out the phone from her skirt’s pocket, and looked at the contact which remained open.

Rafferty Shai. Head Butler of House Severan.

Her thumb hovered over the call icon.

"I know what you’re trying to do, or have a speculation," she said.

"Shoot the speculation," he said.

"You want them to know before someone else tells them, because once the information reaches the house through academy, you may lose control over what happens next,"

"That’s an interesting speculation, but amateur," he said.

"..." Maeve sighed and finally pressed the call icon.

The line connected after several rings.

A man’s voice came through the other end.

"Miss Maeve." His voice was deep, and old enough that it carried authority in itself.

"Sir Rafferty," Maeve greeted back.

"You know that this line concerns only sensitive issues, Miss Maeve. Make it worth my time," Rafferty spoke.

Maeve looked toward Marcellus once.

"It’s about Young Master Marcellus," she said.

"If it is about Young Master’s win against Rafe Pretoria, I duly noted that information, and I’ve been hearing it repetitively by now," Rafferty said.

"Something related to this," she coughed once and gulped.

"Please, be clear," Rafferty said.

"You know how...Pretoria’s deemed Rafe unfit of heir because of his bedridden condition," She asked.

"I know that very well," Rafferty replied.

"Well, you see---he’s recovered," She said.

"I see, a child recovering way from dea-"

"Completely, Mr. Rafferty. Even his core is now functioning fine," she said.

"..."

The silence on the other end lasted several seconds.

Maeve waited, she could hear the sound of papers being moved on his side.

"Glein Brothers, I presume?" Rafferty asked.

"...No." She replied.

"Certainly you’re not saying that it was Mr Marcellus Severan?" Rafferty asked.

"..." Maeve waited for a moment. "Yes."

The silence on Rafferty’s end stretched long. Marcellus stepped in close behind her, close enough that the open edge of his coat brushed the back of her silk skirt, and slid his hand along her forearm, fingers closing gently over her wrist.

He guided the phone away from her ear with easy pressure, and took it in his own hand.

Maeve turned her head, startled. He was already lifting the device to his ear.

"Rafferty," he said in a warm voice. "It’s me."

"Young Master Marcellus," Rafferty’s tone shifted immediately, "Miss Maeve has just informed me of a rather significant claim."

"And I don’t like the way you’re failing to adapt when there’s an unexpected information, which is rather, unprofessional it seems," Marcellus said.

"I wasn’t refuting the cl-"

"I don’t think I care what you do, but her job was informing you, and the task’s accomplished. Believe it or wait for the information to come from the academy, choice is yours." He said, and tapped on the phone, disconnecting the call.

"Here," Marcellus handed Maeve her phone back.

She took it back with furrowed brows.

"I can’t believe that now I’m even doing your job, but honestly this is so easy, I don’t know why you were fretting so much," he shrugged his shoulders and stepped back, playing with the apple again.

’That was so reckless!’ she thought.

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