✿ Robin Taylor ✿

As they entered the orphanage together, Robin noticed Emilie scurrying down the hallway with a laundry basket balanced against her hip. She snapped her fingers and tipped her chin toward Mr. Aldrick. Somehow, that alone was enough—Emilie stiffened, nodded once, and hurried off toward the upper floors, no doubt to fetch Tamara.

Good. Robin had trained her girls quite well it seemed. 

Robin continued down the hallway without looking back, certain Mr. Aldrick would follow. She meant to start a conversation so they wouldn’t have to meander in silence, but he beat her to it.

“Ms. Taylor, I apologize, but I’m quite curious about you. I meant to ask you a question if that’s alright with you…”

She chuckled, but rolled her eyes in a way he wouldn’t notice. There it was—always there ready to creep up on her.

“Of course. Ask away. What caught your attention, Mr. Aldrick?”

She cocked her shoulder, knowing it would expose the skin underneath her robe momentarily. His blue eyes—nearly black in the indoor light—strayed for a moment before he caught himself.

Whatever he was about to ask, she had heard it all before. Questions about her origin, thinly veiled curiosity over her wardrobe, inquiries dressed up as concern for her “story,” or, when subtlety finally failed, a blunt attempt to find out whether she was single.

It was always the same act, curiosity masquerading as interest, never aimed at her as a person.

Or, in the worst cases, reducing her down to little more than someone to be ogled as ‘exotic.’

Mr. Aldrick cleared his throat.

“How long have you been working here?”

Well… Robin tried not to show her surprise. That was a unique way to start, she had to admit. But she rationalized: it was most likely just a different wrapping of the same query.

“I guess…” she considered, but realized she didn’t have an answer prepared off the top of her mind. “Well, I worked here ever since the Spiriter Home was established but that was, uhm…” she pursed her lips, doing the calculations for a short moment. “I was nineteen at the time, so seven years ago.”

“Seven years.” He nodded his head, before that same mischievous smile graced his features. “Now I understand why you were so confident slamming my doors open.”

That was a quip.

Oh how bold of you, Mr. Aldrick. But two could play this game.

“Hah!” She flipped her hands where her hair would have been if it were loose. “You think your irrelevant veteran status would intimidate someone like me?”

“I would never dream of it,” his response was immediate, unbothered, the same tone as before.

Hmph. She was hoping to offend him or at least trip him up momentarily, but it didn’t seem to work quite as planned. Perhaps she would have to try harder.

They reached the room where Mr. Aldrick would be interviewing Tamara, but there was still time, so they lingered in the hallway.

“But more importantly…” Mr. Aldrick continued, hand under his chin. He looked up in thought. “Correct me if my math is wrong, but if you started working here at nineteen–that means you never attended the Spirit Academy, right?”

Now it was Robin who tripped up, but of course, she wouldn’t show it. 

Perhaps he was more perceptive than she was giving him credit for. 

“Who said that I’m a spiriter?” She fired back, but realized her mistake only after. A veteran like him was obviously a skilled spiriter, so there was no way he wouldn’t—

“I hope this doesn’t come across as rude, or god forbid boastful, but… I can tell…” he explained but it sounded more like an apology than an elaborate boast. Not like the common confident man, ready to explain his business to a woman.

Robin shrugged in response, careful not to give him the impression that he was anything special.

“Well, I guess I had my tricks to avoid the academy life.”

Mr. Aldrick hummed in response but didn’t say anything.

Robin was now very curious about his thoughts—getting questioned like that without elaboration, nor any direct interest she could detect. What was his goal?

She had been avoiding it until now, thinking he was fairly straightforward, after all. But now, she decided to just use her ability—her eyes focused on him, allowing her access into his thoughts.

[Was it Trizstan’s doing too?]

That made Robin pause. What was that supposed to mean? Was Mr. Aldrick suspicious of Trizstan?

What did he mean by ‘too’?

Did he know about—

Mr. Aldrick turned his gaze towards her—Robin snapped her head to the side, cursing herself for the mistake immediately. It was unlikely that even someone like him would realize she was literally reading his thoughts a moment ago, after all.

And without that context, her looking away so suddenly seemed even more pathetic on her part.

“Well—I wouldn’t want to interrogate you while you’re on the clock so to speak. I apologize if I said something wrong,” he softened his tone, as if she were some delicate flower needing careful handling.

Robin composed herself and rolled her eyes. The man was polite—uncommon for someone like him, but it had the risk of becoming infuriating fast. Though this time, it was her own fault that he assumed he made her uncomfortable.

So to regain some semblance of control, she decided to use her favourite card in response. 

There was no way out of this one. Any man would either stumble and show his nerves, or reveal himself as a hopelessly desperate fool.

“Did I just hear an offer to take me out on a date?”