Chapter 315: A Family of Sisters
Chapter 314: A Family of Sisters
Lyria’s POV
Earl Hawthorne paused before rubbing the back of his neck rather sheepishly.
"I do hope, however," he added with a nervous chuckle, "that you are not imagining my face."
A laugh escaped me as I lowered my fist.
"Y-you have been n-nothing but k-kind to me," I replied. "Why w-would I ever w-wish to h-hit you?"
He visibly relaxed.
"One can never be too careful," he said. "I have been the object of such thoughts on rather more occasions than I care to remember."
I frowned.
"W-who would w-wish to h-hit you?"
He sighed, though there was unmistakable fondness in his expression.
"My sisters," he admitted. "Merely because I happen to exist."
My eyes widened.
"Your s-sisters?" I repeated. "D-do they d-dislike you s-so greatly?"
"Oh, no," he replied with an amused smile. "It is not dislike. At least... I sincerely hope it is not."
He folded his arms thoughtfully.
"It is simply their preferred method of expressing affection. Teasing me has long been their favourite pastime."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"Y-you have s-six sisters, d-do you not?" I asked.
He paused.
His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he stared at me with an expression of genuine surprise.
I tilted my head, confused by his reaction.
"W-what is the m-matter, my l-lord?" I asked. "Are y-you that s-surprised I asked a-about your s-sisters?"
He blinked, as though emerging from a daze.
"No," he said slowly. "It is not that. I am merely surprised that you know how many sisters I have. I do not recall ever telling you that I have six sisters, Your Highness."
I felt warmth rise to my cheeks.
A flush of embarrassment crept up my neck and spread across my face. He had never told me precisely how many sisters he had. I only knew because I had overheard part of his conversation with his friends during the painting competition.
"Y-you did n-not t-tell me," I admitted, my voice growing quieter. "I m-may have h-heard it d-during the p-painting c-competition."
The more I spoke, the smaller my voice became.
"Y-you w-were speaking w-with your f-friends, and I... I h-heard you m-mention them."
Earl Hawthorne’s expression softened into something that looked remarkably like delight, which only confused me further.
"I knew I had caught the scent of something sweet that day," he said with a smile. "And it had nothing whatsoever to do with the refreshments that had been served."
My cheeks grew even warmer.
"I w-was not l-listening on p-purpose," I said quickly. "It w-was simply t-that you w-were speaking l-loudly enough f-for me t-to hear."
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine.
"I am not accusing you of anything, Your Highness," he assured me. "I am merely pleased that you were paying attention."
I did not know how to respond to that.
So I remained silent.
Earl Hawthorne folded his arms thoughtfully.
"Yes," he said, "I have six sisters. The eldest is Samantha. She is rather more of a tomboy than a lady."
He paused, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
"She beats me up, you see."
I stared at him.
"B-beats you u-up?" I repeated. "My l-lord, you are a w-war hero. How c-could your s-sister possibly b-beat you up?"
He shrugged, entirely unconcerned.
"Being a war hero carries very little weight within my own home, Your Highness. Beyond those walls, I am Lord Hawthorne, Earl of my territory. But at home, I am simply Benedict—a brother and a son."
He smiled faintly.
"To my people, I am their lord. Within my family’s home, however, that counts for very little. If I do something that annoys my sisters—which, I regret to admit, happens rather frequently—they report me to Samantha."
I tilted my head.
"R-report you?"
"Indeed," he replied. "Samantha beats me first for being disrespectful towards delicate ladies, and only afterwards does she hear my side of the matter."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
"She s-sounds rather f-fearsome."
"Oh, she certainly is," he agreed readily. "Though I must also say she is remarkably fair. If the others are at fault, she disciplines them just as readily. She has never been one to play favourites."
I smiled.
"T-that seems rather r-reasonable."
He chuckled.
"She is terribly rowdy," he admitted. "Yet I love her dearly all the same. It irritates her whenever I tell her so, but I would not trade her for anything."
"What of the o-others?" I prompted gently.
His expression brightened at once.
"The next are twins," he said. "Olive and Olivia."
I blinked.
"Olive and O-Olivia?"
"Yes," he replied with complete seriousness. "My father was not particularly imaginative when it came to naming them though I must admit he was not the one who named them."
I tilted my head curiously.
"Then w-who did?"
To my surprise, he looked almost sheepish.
"I did."
I stared.
"Y-you n-named them?"
"I was very young," he said defensively. "At the time, I believed it rather clever."
I could not help smiling.
"A-and d-do the twins a-appreciate your c-creativity?"
He sighed dramatically.
"They ensure I never forget that they do not. They remind me with remarkable frequency that I ought to have chosen better names."
He shook his head, though there was unmistakable affection in his smile.
"They could not be more different from one another. Olive is exceedingly feminine. She adores dolls and..." He paused with visible reluctance. "...men."
I frowned.
"Men?"
"Hearts, rather," he corrected with a weary sigh. "She collects broken hearts wherever she goes. She flirts shamelessly with every gentleman she encounters, only to lose interest the moment he becomes attached."
He rubbed his forehead.
"I receive no small number of letters from desperate young men begging me to persuade her to grant them another opportunity."
He looked positively offended by the memory.
"As though I possess any influence whatsoever over that young woman. They truly believe I stand a chance of convincing my sister to reconsider after she has already dismissed them."
He raised one hand solemnly.
"I assure you, I have attempted such a thing before."
He lowered it again.
"The experience was... unpleasant."