Rimelion: The Exploiter

78. Mage and Flag-Bearer

To my surprise, the attaché actually smiled—a genuine one, not the smug smirk he usually wore like a badge of honor. "From the recent imperial records and preliminary reports, I anticipated... different characteristics," he said, each word carefully measured. "While your methods deviate from standard procedure, you demonstrate a marginal competence that may prove acceptable to imperial standards."

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a backhanded jab, but I took it as the former. "Thank you," I replied, inclining my head slightly. "I'll be ready at the teleport tomorrow."

Then, in a moment of formality I hadn't planned but felt oddly right, I bowed. Just a small one, enough to show respect without overdoing it. The attaché's expression softened further, and he gave a small bow in return before excusing himself.

As I watched the stupid attaché retreat, his steady footsteps echoing faintly in the hall, I couldn't help but appreciate the newfound quiet in the room. The earlier chaos had settled, leaving behind an almost peaceful atmosphere.

The only sounds now were the faint swish of Lucas shifting pieces on the map and the rhythmic scratch-scratch of Lola's quill as she furiously scribbled notes nearby. It was oddly soothing.

When he was gone, I turned toward Lola. "Hey, Lola?" I said, my voice a little less formal now. "What do you think? How was it?"

She closed her notes—already so full of scribbles they looked like an ancient scroll—and smoothly stored them in her inventory. Her expression was calm and measured, but there was a glint of approval in her eyes. "Lady, you're a natural," she said simply. "And I hope to serve well."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. She'd stolen the wind right from my sails with that earnest tone, leaving me blushing like an awkward schoolgirl. "I..." I stammered, my thoughts stumbling over themselves. "Thank you, Lola. Truly."

She smiled at me, soft and genuine, before giving a small nod. "If there's nothing else, I'll attend to the paperwork."

"Actually," I said, gathering myself enough to sound somewhat composed, "could you leave me here with Lucas for a while?"

Lola's grin turned sly, and she gave me a playful wink. "Of course, Lady," she said with a teasing lilt to her voice. "Enjoy your chat."

I stared after her as she left, wondering just how much she was reading into this situation. Shaking my head, I turned to Lucas, already steeling myself for whatever nonsense was about to come out of his mouth. "Alright," I said, folding my arms. "We need to talk."

Lucas placed the demon army piece directly in front of the fort on the map. He turned to me, his expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness. "Is this... about the... fear?" he asked hesitantly.

Who knows?

"Not exactly..." I began, unsure how to broach the topic. I wasn't even sure what I wanted to talk about with him, but since he brought it up, I figured we could start there. "But yes, we can address that. You should have asked, Lucas."

He nodded, his shoulders sagging a bit. "I should have. I know I screwed up. But..." His face suddenly split into that ridiculously cute, foolish grin of his. "Isn't it kind of funny, though?"

I tried to hold onto my frustration, but his grin was contagious. Before I knew it, I was grinning back. "Yeah," I admitted, the memory of earlier suddenly bubbling up. "I asked those couriers to deliver some letters, and when they came to my office, they just stood there. Totally terrified. Like I was about to smite them on the spot."

Lucas burst out laughing, and I couldn't hold it in either. "And then," I continued between laughs, "when I handed over the letter, they bolted! They almost broke the hinges on the door trying to get out!"

"They were fast, at least!" Lucas wheezed, clutching his stomach as he laughed along with me.

"Yeah!" I grinned, the laughter lifting the weight I hadn't realized I was carrying. As the laughter began to settle, a thought struck me out of nowhere. "Hey, Lucas," I said, tilting my head. "What do you actually need to do to identify items?"

He was still chuckling, but the question made him pause. "Huh?" He shrugged, his grin not entirely fading. "I just need to touch them and focus. It'll work eventually."

I nodded. I wasn't sure if this would work, but there was only one way to find out. "Lucas," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Can you... identify my cape, please?"

His laughter died down as the words registered. "Uh, okay..." he said, shrugging again and extending his hand toward me.

I shook my head and gently took his hand, guiding it to rest on my shoulder. His fingers tensed slightly as they brushed the fabric of the cape, but he didn't pull away. "O-okay..." he murmured, his voice dropping to match mine.

The room seemed to grow quieter; the moment stretching as we both stilled. I could feel the faint warmth of his hand through the material, and for some reason, my pulse quickened.

What was I expecting? Something to explode?