“So… What brings you to our humble Spiriter Home, Mr. Aldrick?”

“I’m here on business, actually. As a homeroom teacher, I have an appointment with one of your children. Tamara. She should be joining my future class, after all.”

Robin watched his every movement, but he was… surprisingly formal today. The last time they’d spoken, he was silent, caught completely off guard. But now he looked composed.

She preferred the previous version of him. It felt good to have the upper hand over someone so revered. Now she would have to adjust her approach just to get the same result. 

“Ah, yes. I remember. Tamara had to miss school today just to have this check-in, after all,” she said flatly, eyeing him like this was his fault. Which it was.

But then Mr. Aldrick’s smile vanished, replaced by a quizzical look.

“Really? Why was that necessary?”

“You tell me,” she fired back—this was exactly the thing that had been gnawing at her nerves for weeks. “Your partner demanded the check-in on this day. But I wonder why she cared so much if she was going to send you instead anyways.”

Robin was expecting an excuse or some form of a defense. Instead, Mr. Aldrick just looked like this was the first he ever heard of it. 

“Well, I do apologize for this disruption. I’m afraid I missed that. I should have checked my calendar better. Of course, I would have re-scheduled if I realized Tamara had to be in school at this time. A simple check-in can be done at any time.”

Robin smiled, getting the picture now. For whatever reason, Ms. Solbakken and Mr. Aldrick had switched places for this arrangement; it didn’t even matter whether Ms. Solbakken had sent him here on purpose so he would be blamed for her scheduling demands, or whether she hadn’t bothered to mention it to him at all. Both would be on brand for her.  

And considering that this man was like a deer in headlights in front of even just Robin, there was no way he could keep up with that witch regardless. 

Though Robin couldn’t blame him—of course, as homeroom partners, it was expected he would take her side. Albeit, somewhat disappointing. 

“That’s the simple concession. What I’m curious about is why you switched roles?” she needled into the details, but couldn’t stop herself from the incoming rant. “Did that little witch need to craft yet another artifact to make herself even younger? Perhaps, she is aiming for the look of a toddler this time? Would make it easier for me to knock her off her feet mid-tantrum.”

Mr. Aldrick chuckled at that, but considered his next response momentarily. She could see a mischievous smile forming on his face. It was odd, but made him seem more human.

“Well… Let’s just say I haven’t been the best partner recently. So I decided I’d try to make up for it by taking this responsibility off of her hands.”

“Oh?” Robin smiled, raising her eyebrow. Of all the things she expected him to say, that didn’t even make the list. “That’s surprising.”

He tilted his head, amused. 

“Which part?”

She smirked.

“You apparently having horns.”

He laughed lightly. It was a smooth baritone. Lucky bastard. Had to have hundreds of female pursuers at his doorstep just for that alone. 

“Haha, well…”

But as clever as he tried to be, Mr. Aldrick didn’t seem to have prepared an explanation for that…

Robin decided to leave it be. That seemed to be the most tea she would get out of him.

“Well, regardless, come with me Mr. Aldrick. My girls should have cleared out a room for you already. I’ll have someone call Tamara over too.”

He smiled, still so polite—bowing his head ever lightly. “That would be very kind of you.”

Robin motioned for him to follow. But as she climbed up the stairs, she was pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Aldrick take the lead and get the door open for her.

Hm, perhaps he wasn’t completely useless. And here she thought chivalry was dead. 

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Mr. Aldrick merely nodded his head, with that infuriating smile on his face that showed his dimples. 

Ugh, he was a real piece of work. She would almost be charmed…

If she didn’t know he was a veteran.

There’s always something. With every single man…