Chapter 272: My Headache...
Later that evening, Elisebeth sat cross-legged in the middle of her enormous bed while Rias occupied the chair near the window. The curtains had been tied back, leaving the city lights visible beyond the glass. A pillow rested in Elisebeth’s lap, and she had been twisting the same corner of it throughout the entire explanation.
Almost twenty minutes had passed since she began describing the no-confession agreement, Alexandra’s confession, the harem discussion, Diva’s Rejection, and her own refusal.
Rias had barely spoken. She only watched Elisebeth tighten the fabric whenever the story reached Martin and loosen it whenever she returned to insulting Alexandra.
When Elisebeth finally ran out of details, the silence lasted long enough to become unbearable. Rias rested one cheek against her fist and looked at her with the same expression she used after hearing a manager propose an obviously terrible schedule.
"So you told the harem no."
"Yes."
Rias waited.
Elisebeth’s fingers tightened around the pillow. "You can say whatever comes next. I know you’ve been saving it."
"You did not tell Martin no."
Elisebeth stopped moving. "Those are the same answer in this situation."
"No. You confessed, stayed beside him, and refused to leave him alone with Alexandra. You rejected the arrangement while holding on to the man."
"Someone needed to supervise Alexandra after she spent half the conversation acting as though jealousy had made her enlightened."
Rias let the complaint pass without rewarding it.
"I am not reconsidering the harem," Elisebeth added.
"You’ve said that several times, and I believe you."
The unexpected agreement made Elisebeth lower the pillow slightly.
Rias continued. "I also believe you still want him. Those two things can be true at the same time, even if you hate how untidy that feels."
Elisebeth looked away toward the city. "I wanted you to know before tomorrow."
"Because Martin wants my opinion?"
"That is part of it."
Rias waited. She had always been good at silence. In meetings, people rushed to fill the gaps and often revealed more than they intended. Elisebeth knew the trick, hated the trick, and still began worrying the pillow again.
"And because Alexandra told you I would never fall for a man who openly agreed to a harem," Rias said.
Elisebeth’s head turned back. "I did not tell you that."
"You didn’t have to. You reached that part of the story, stopped looking at me, and spent five minutes explaining why I am too intelligent to be interested in him."
"Because you are."
"She baited you."
"I know."
"You recognized the trap and stepped into it anyway because it gave you an excuse to tell me first."
Elisebeth pressed the pillow over her face.
A faint smile touched Rias’s mouth. "Relax. I have no intention of joining Martin’s harem."
The pillow lowered by an inch. "Obviously."
"I’m also not giving you an opinion to repeat on my behalf tomorrow. Martin asked to speak to me, so I’ll answer him."
"I wasn’t going to prepare your answer."
"You rehearsed this conversation before I arrived."
"I organized my thoughts."
"You prepared three openings, abandoned all of them, and started with the part about Alexandra cheating."
"That was the emotional center."
"It was the part that annoyed you most."
Elisebeth lowered the pillow enough to glare at her. "I’m your diva. You could offer some emotional support."
"You’re my headache."
"And your diva."
Rias rose from the chair and crossed the room. Elisebeth tightened her grip on the pillow, but Rias caught one edge and pulled it away without much resistance.
"Go to sleep. If I leave you awake, you’ll rehearse tomorrow’s conversation too."
Elisebeth reached for the pillow but stopped halfway. Without it covering her, the confidence she had worn through most of the explanation thinned around the edges.
"What are you going to tell him?"
"The truth."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It usually is."
Rias set the pillow beside her and turned toward the door.
Elisebeth watched her take two steps. The room suddenly felt too large again, and she hated that the question waiting in her throat sounded smaller than the woman who had shouted down an entire battlefield earlier that day.
"Rias."
One hand rested near the door handle as Rias looked back.
"You really don’t think I’m being stupid?"
The question came out quietly enough that Elisebeth almost wished the room had swallowed it.
Rias studied her for a moment before answering.
"I think you’re hurt, jealous, stubborn, and trying to force one clean answer onto two things you want at the same time. You want Martin, and you don’t want the life Alexandra offered. Neither feeling disappeared because you said no."
Elisebeth lowered her gaze to her empty hands.
"That sounds like a longer way of calling me stupid."
"No. Stupid would be agreeing because you’re afraid Alexandra will get ahead of you, then resenting everyone afterward."
Elisebeth’s mouth tightened. "She is already ahead."
"That is exactly why you should stop treating this like one of your charts."
"It is not a chart."
"You called her kiss a first-mover advantage."
"She did move first."
Rias gave her a look, and Elisebeth leaned back against the pillows with a frustrated sigh.
"Fine. Maybe I’m being a little competitive."
"A little."
"Don’t ruin the moment."
Rias’s expression softened. She returned to the bed, sat on the edge, and briefly smoothed a loose strand of hair away from Elisebeth’s face.
"You do not need to settle the rest tonight. You gave Martin the answer you can live with right now. Let it remain an answer instead of turning it into another way to punish yourself."
Elisebeth looked at her. "And if Alexandra uses the time to steal him?"
"Then Martin was never someone you could keep by exhausting yourself."
The bluntness stung, but it also settled something in her chest that Alexandra’s arguments had only stirred up.
Rias stood again.
"Sleep. Tomorrow I’ll hear his version, and then I’ll tell him what I think."
"You won’t be too mean?"
"He asked for honesty."
"That was not my question."
Rias opened the door.
"I’ll be exactly mean enough."
Elisebeth watched her leave. This time, she did not call her back or reach for the pillow. She remained sitting in the middle of the huge bed, staring at the closed door while the room grew quiet around her.
For once, she stopped rehearsing what she would say next.