Chapter 9: The Sapphire Family - 2
"Kai? Are you in there? It’s Evelina."
Her voice was gentle and cut through the initial silence in the room. My mind, which had just begun to settle after the armory incident and the diary’s chilling revelation, began to drift with thoughts . Evelina. The eldest daughter. The one Olberic had described as "truly lovely, some may say even too nice."
Too nice. The phrase echoed in my mind, sending a wave of suspicion through me. Was this her ’niceness’ in action? Coming to check on me, perhaps to see if I had found anything, if I was holding the journal?
"I’m on my way!" I called out, my voice a little rougher than I intended.
My eyes flickered back to the diary. It was still there. I couldn’t just leave it out. But if I tried to hide it now, it would look even more suspicious. I decided to trust that she wouldn’t immediately notice it, or that I could distract her. Olberic’s words about her being "too nice" now felt less like a compliment and more like a warning. Could that niceness be a facade? A tool to gain trust, to get closer, to perhaps even... monitor him? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I plastered a polite, slightly apologetic expression on my face. This was it. Time to play the part of the adopted son, I thought.
I opened the door.
Evelina stood in the hallway, framed by the soft light filtering from a distant window. She was even more striking up close than in the VIP box. Her blue hair, the color of the early morning sky, cascaded around her shoulders, and her eyes, it held a warmth that seemed genuine. She wore a simple, elegant dress that flowed gracefully, and a faint, she had a pleasant scent of perfume that radiated from her.
For a moment, I was genuinely flattered. She was beautiful, effortlessly so. The embarrassment from my earlier blunder surged again, my cheeks were visibly red.
"Evelina," I began, "I... I am so terribly sorry about earlier. Walking into your room like that. It was entirely unintentional, I assure you. I was... lost." I hoped the ’lost’ excuse would cover both incidents.