Yvan's Embarrassment

Ivan looked up as the data solidified on the screen above him. His status, the supposed measure of his abilities, appeared in sharp detail across the lid.

...

[Leon Cromwell]

[Mana Core] ➾ [Rank D-]

[Attributes]

➾ [Wind: Rank C]

[Strength] ➾ [Rank E+]

[Agility] ➾ [Rank D-]

[Stamina] ➾ [Rank D-]

[Vision] ➾ [Rank C+]

[Intelligence] ➾ [Rank D]

[Charm] ➾ [Rank C-]

[Talent] ➾ [Rank C+]

....

"It's quite impressive," Ida muttered, her eyes fixed on the computer screen, which displayed the same stats.

Aaron, leaning in to catch a glimpse, felt a wave of relief wash over him. The numbers on the screen were nothing extraordinary for a student of Ocryphia—just ordinary enough to avoid suspicion. Whatever Ivan had done to manipulate the results had worked, and Ida seemed none the wiser.

"Your Mana Core is ranked D-, which is above average for someone your age, and you have a rather...exceptional vision," Ida nodded approvingly, her voice carrying a hint of surprise. "I admit, I had my doubts when I first saw you, but you've got the stats to back up your spot here at Ocryphia."

"Isn't that a bit rude, Ms. Shaw?" Aaron spoke up, a bit upset. He couldn't help but defend Ivan. To him, Ivan wasn't just another student—he was something close to divine. Hearing Ida's initial doubt felt like a personal insult.

Ivan had warned Aaron to tone down his reverence for him, especially within the Academy's walls, but it was proving difficult for him to suppress.

Ida blinked at Aaron's response, studying him with narrowed eyes. A sudden thought seemed to strike her. "Aaron, wait... are you in love with your cousin?" Her expression shifted into one of suspicion, as she noticed the way Aaron gazed at Ivan—eyes filled with something too intense, too admiring. What was mere hero-worship from Aaron looked very different from Ida's perspective.

Aaron's face flushed instantly. "W—What? Huh?! N-No! What are you even talking about?" 

Ida, however, didn't seem convinced. She sighed, shaking her head as if she had uncovered some deep secret. "I knew it. Listen, Aaron, I'm not one to judge. Everyone has their preferences, but don't you think it's a little... strange? You know, since you're related?"

"Ms. Shaw! I'm already engaged!" Aaron blurted out, practically shouting in his desperation to clear up the misunderstanding. The real terror in his mind wasn't Ida's strange assumption—it was how Ivan might react if he thought for even a second that Aaron felt that way about him.

Ivan, usually calm and composed, seemed visibly disturbed by the turn of the conversation. His brow furrowed slightly, though he kept silent, he really wondered how the hell things had escalated so quickly.

The situation would've been laughable if it weren't so awkward. Ivan could have ignored the bizarre assumption, but under the circumstances—given that he was operating more as Yvan than Ivan right now—he felt compelled to intervene.

"I'm also engaged," Ivan said smoothly, hoping to steer the conversation back into more comfortable territory. It wasn't exactly true, not yet, though he was set to be engaged to Gwenyra Pendragon soon. But when he spoke, Gwenyra wasn't the one who came to mind.

Ida's reaction wasn't at all what he expected. Her eyes widened, and her face flushed slightly. "Wait... both of you? Engaged? To each other? How in the world did that happen?" She looked from Ivan to Aaron, clearly baffled.

Ivan's eyebrow twitched in irritation. This conversation was spiraling out of control. Without another word, he hastily pulled on his shirt, eager to escape the room and the increasingly strange assumptions being made.

Ms. Shaw was, without a doubt, a weirdo and why was she blushing?

"W–Wait, My Lo–I mean Leon!" Aaron quickly followed after Ivan taking the white watch prepared for Ivan.

"My what?" 

Ida looked at the departing figure suspiciously. 

"My Lo? My love?!"

***

"I deeply apologize, Lord Ivan, for what happened earlier. Please, take my head as punishment for this offense," Aaron pleaded, kneeling in front of Ivan outside the Academy grounds. His voice trembled with shame, and his hands clutched the grass beneath him as though it could somehow lessen the weight of his guilt.

"Stand up," Ivan asked as they gathered quite the onlookers.

Aaron, however, refused to move. "N-No, not until you punish me!" He insisted, gripping onto Ivan's legs as if desperate for absolution.

"..."

Ivan stared down on Aaron for a moment.

For the onlookers, it must have looked bizarre—Aaron kneeling in the dirt, gripping Ivan's legs, while Ivan stood above him, looking uncomfortable. Faces flushed with embarrassment and confusion surrounded them.

He personally didn't care but a part of him did care.

"Stand the hell up!" Ivan snapped. He reached down, grabbed a fistful of Aaron's shirt, and yanked him to his feet.

Aaron's eyes widened in shock, and he stared at Ivan as though he'd seen a completely different person. "S-Sir?" He stammered, surprised. Ivan's usual mask of stoic calm had slipped, and in its place was something Aaron had never seen before—discomfort, even a hint of annoyance.

But it wasn't Ivan standing before him now. It was Yvan, who had taken most of the control, and Yvan wasn't about to deal with the same awkwardness twice. His lips were set in a tight grimace.

"Listen to me." Yvan's eyes locked onto Aaron's with a piercing intensity. "I am straight. I have a woman. Do you understand?" 

Aaron blinked, still caught off guard. "I-I understand, sir. But I also have a woman—"

"Do. You. Understand?" Yvan repeated, his stare intensifying. He wasn't asking for an explanation. He wanted the matter settled—now. The earlier embarrassment still clung to him, and while Ivan might have been able to brush it off, Yvan was not so thick-skinned.

Aaron nodded quickly, though inside, his heart sank. "Yes, sir..."

But inwardly, he wanted to cry. His hero—had misunderstood him, too. 

"Good." Yvan let go of Aaron's shirt. They began walking toward the private parking station, the awkward tension still lingering between them.

Aaron trailed behind, his head lowered. Every step felt heavier than the last. 

'I'm not gay!' 

He wanted to scream, but he feared that speaking up would only make the situation worse. Better to let the misunderstanding hang in the air than to risk deepening it further.

Yvan, on the other hand, was preoccupied with something else. He fiddled with the sleek E-Watch clasped around his wrist, his mind turning to more practical matters. "So, this is their famous status watch, huh?" He muttered under his breath, fascinated by the device.

To him, it was an interesting gadget. In the Cathedral, where he and his people came from, no one wore anything like it. They assessed their strength by unorthodox methods…

"B–By the way, Leon, how did you tamper with your aptitudes?" Aaron asked, whispering.

Yvan just lifted his right hand. A moment later, the black ring materialized on his index finger, gleaming faintly. It was the same artifact that had allowed him to manipulate his stats, concealing his true aptitudes.

"Wow, impressive," Aaron nodded, though he wasn't entirely surprised. 

'That's the advantage of being the ruler of an entire empire,' Yvan thought to himself as he saw it. Access to powerful artifacts from Britannia's vast treasury had certainly given Ivan a considerable edge, and he hadn't been shy about using them.

As they waited in the quiet of the private parking lot, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of them. From the driver's seat emerged a man in a tailored suit, his posture stiff but practiced. He was older, with silver streaks in his hair, but his movements were sharp and precise—this was Jonah, Aaron's personal bodyguard and driver, a man who had clearly seen more than his appearance let on.

"Lord Aaron," Jonah greeted, placing his hand over his chest in a formal salute.

His gaze then shifted to Yvan, and despite his professional demeanor, a visible nervousness took hold of him. He instinctively dropped his head, and for a brief second, it looked as though his knees might buckle. Jonah, after all, knew exactly who Leon was.

"No," Yvan spoke up, cutingt off the display of respect before it could go any further. He wasn't interested in drawing more attention than necessary. Aaron already did enough.

"Don't be so overly reverent outside, Jonah. It's careless and could endanger Lord Ivan's identity." Aaron spoke up. 

Yvan glanced at Aaron. He was tempted to point out the irony—Aaron was the last person who should be lecturing someone about being overly reverent. But he kept his thoughts to himself.

Jonah nodded. "Yes, Milord. I apologize."

With that, he opened the door for them, then slid back into the driver's seat. As he rested his hands on the wheel, Jonah turned slightly to face Yvan. "Does Lord Ivan have a destination in mind?" He asked with utmost respect. Though Jonah was officially Aaron's bodyguard, he had long been made aware of Ivan's true identity. And both Aaron and his employer had given him clear instructions: Ivan's needs always took precedence.

Yvan settled into the backseat, looking outside the window. 

"The Cromwell Mansion. I need to see Patrick Cromwell."