✿ Robin Taylor ✿

May, 10th, 1007

—later in the day.

Robin cleared the tables in the dim, cozy kitchen—the children had just finished their snacks and scattered off to play. She moved to the sink, dirty plates in hand. Technically, she could have told the girls to handle the clean up as that was part of their responsibilities. But Robin wasn’t helpless; she was simply selective over which tasks she bothered with.

Besides, if she stayed in the kitchen, the girls would avoid the place entirely until she was done. They knew better than to hover around her while busy—one wrong move, one attempt to “help,” and she would verbally flatten them without hesitation.

They were already on thin ice after proving completely useless in front of one elderly neighbor, after all. It had taken Robin all of two minutes to send that sad excuse of a man scurrying off with his tail tucked between his legs. He immediately forgot about that ‘compensation for the broken window’ nonsense.

And to have her girls air all that dirty laundry in front of Mr. Aldrick of all people. What an embarrassment.

Oh, she realized as she circled the sponge over the plate, warm droplets slipping between her fingers. Wasn’t Mr. Aldrick done with that interview with Tamara by now? She checked the time, but realized it had been hours since they spoke. Not only was he done, he must have been back on campus by now.

She didn’t get to see him off. 

Robin shook her head, as she placed the now scrubbed plate on the dryer, picking up another dirty piece. Since when did she care about seeing a hopeless fool off?

Well, it was her job, but—

Robin straightened—not stopping her cleaning, but now aware she had company. 

The door of the kitchen clicked shut as silently as it opened. The man she was so familiar with, she didn’t even have to turn to recognize him, walked up behind her. 

“I’ve heard I missed quite a visitor today.” Trizstan spoke. 

Robin chuckled, scrubbing off a piece of rice stuck to the plate. “See, Trizstan? I told you to skip that assembly. Those ungrateful royals don’t deserve your precious time.”

Trizstan hovered inches behind her, so close she could feel his chest brushing against her back. He leaned in closer, resting his hands on the countertop on each side of her body, his long white hair draped over her shoulder.

She released a laugh, as his hair tickled her neck. “I hope you told off that Franciste brat like you promised?”

He hummed into her left ear “I see you caught the attention of the legendary Colonel...”

Robin smirked, and rolled her eyes. Trizstan seemed distracted by Mr. Aldrick to even answer her question. She could only assume they were some sort of rivals, or that there was shared history between them she didn’t know about.

After Robin barged into Mr. Aldrick’s office a few weeks ago, she told Trizstan everything. The Colonel’s reactions, his flattery, his thoughts..…

And apparently that was all Trizstan could think about. She found it amusing if not cute so she played into it. 

“Jealous, are we?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he traced his hands across her lower back. The same spot he had been massaging yesterday. 

Robin sighed, the feel of his slender fingers rubbing that sore spot. Yes, she needed that.

“Mr. Aldrick was just here for Tamara’s check-in,” she clarified to fill in the silence. “Ms. Solbakken that ungrateful hag—” Trizstan’s hands grasped her hips— “She made such a scene over that check-in, demanding it would be today—” His hands moved to the front of her body, “And after all that she still sends Mr. Aldrick here instead—“

She gasped as Trizstan clamped her breasts, squeezing at the tissue harshly. Her whole body froze, that wasn’t sensual, it was painful; she held onto that plate as his other hand snaked in between her legs. 

“Trizstan—”

“I see all those operations I invested in paid off quite well...”

Robin’s heart sank as his tone registered—cruel and calculating. She dropped the plate into the sink, a loud clank rang across the room, but she knew nobody would come. Trizstan’s hand sneaked through her robes, forcing her to recoil into him. 

She felt it—he was getting off on this. 

An involuntary moan forced its way out of her lips as his fingers jabbed inside of her. She felt heat rush into her face as she fought to steady herself, fingers tightening around the edge of the sink.

“Trizstan, stop—“

“Still unable to get wet though. I guess not everything can be changed...”

He rasped into her ear. She grit her teeth, fighting off the tears threatening to spill from her eyes; her lips shivered.

But he wasn’t stopping. This wasn’t the man she knew, but no matter her protests—

His hand snagged below her robe to grab at her bare breast, squeezing the nipple until it stung. She wrapped fingers around his wrist, not pushing him away—just an appeal to the man she knew was hiding behind this sudden burst of cruelty.

“Trizstan—I don’t deserve this from you…”

She couldn’t control the whimper in her voice—still in that uncomfortable position between him and the sink. 

But thankfully, he paused.

Robin waited, still not pushing him away. Instead, she caressed his hand that was still holding onto her chest.

Finally, Trizstan retracted his hand and rested his chin on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her skin as she remained rooted in place, his arms wrapped around her.

“You’re right. I apologize…”

Robin swallowed her protest; something was wrong, and she couldn’t risk provoking him. She loosened his grip with careful fingers and turned to face him, looking straight into those brown eyes.

Those kind eyes she didn’t know if she could trust right now. 

She cupped his sharp face, her thumbs brushing over soft skin as she leaned in, stopping just a breath away.

“What got into you?” she whispered.

He looked down—it was uncommon for him not to meet her eyes. A solemn smile appeared on his face, as he tugged at her kimono, fixing it back in place.

She didn’t comment on it.

Instead, she tried to figure out what just happened. But she couldn’t use her ability—she promised never to use it on him a long time ago. 

“You don’t actually think I’m interested in Mr. Aldrick, do you?”

“Of course, not…” It sounded sure, yet somehow defeated. 

“Then?” she asked.

Trizstan wrapped his palms around hers, lifted her hand, and pressed a soft kiss onto it before guiding them back to rest over her chest.

He stepped back, arms crossed, giving her space. His long hair—pale like his face—fell over his beige suit, the black shirt beneath breaking the otherwise muted palette.

“I guess I just know Mr. Aldrick too well to assume he is here for nothing but business.”

With him now further from her, Robin allowed herself to massage her neck. She kept a straight face, but inside, she was furious. 

So all of this was for what then? If not jealousy, then… and with everything he said… 

Was it to punish her? To make her feel small? Even more indebted than she already was?

Why did he feel the need to remind her of her surgeries?