Hearing Lucien's polite refusal, a trace of regret couldn't help but flit across Fleur's beautiful azure eyes.
As expected, the mission Mada Maxi assigned was going to be difficult to complete.
Lowering her eyelids, her fingers rubbed the cara as thoughts of self-doubt bubbled up in her heart: Was it because she interacted too little with her classmates usually? Was she too "weak" when it ca to communicating with people? Did she ask too directly just now? Should she have been more tactful, softer?
Helplessly, the truth was that Fleur had very few friends at Beauxbatons, and not many classmates she could really talk to.
From childhood to adulthood, Fleur had long grown accustod to being "put on a pedestal" by her peers.
Her outstanding looks, rare Veela bloodline, and top-tier academic performance ant she never needed to actively cater to anyone.
The halo that accompanied her every step even led her to take it for granted that she was different. She was used to speaking her mind directly, never caring about the gaze of others.
But during these days spent with Lucien, she felt a comfort she had never experienced before.
Lucien didn't fawn over her or try to curry favor like most boys her age, and Fleur didn't feel the embarrassnt or anxiety of trying to find a topic of conversation for the first ti.
Their conversations always flowed naturally, like a quiet spring in the afternoon.
As Fleur held the cara to find an angle for Lucien, seeing his natural, relaxed smile through the viewfinder, she suddenly rembered a sentence she had once read in a book—
"If soone always makes you feel comfortable when you're with them, there's a high probability they are the one accommodating you."
Accommodating.
Accommodating...
Pressing the shutter, Fleur suddenly spoke, her tone slightly unnatural:
"Lucien, if possible, could you give a copy of SwiftSpeak?"
Lucien pulled a brand-new SwiftSpeak from his pocket. As he handed it over, he asked with a casual smile:
"Are you curious about the alchemical principles behind it?"
Fleur didn't answer imdiately. The faint layer of silver light in her hair seed to brighten a few notches. She stared straight into Lucien's dark green eyes, her voice clear and candid:
"Curious. Mm, just like you said when you introduced SwiftSpeak—delivering words of longing instantly." She paused, then added, "Well, owls are still too slow."
The hand with which Lucien was offering the thin booklet froze briefly in mid-air.
This girl... she really was direct.
Is this a French thing?
Thinking back to their exchanges on magical theory and alchemy over the past few days, Fleur had always been straightforward in expressing her views, whether agreeing or rebutting. She never beat around the bush.
When they were studying, Lucien just took it as the girl being pragmatic and willing to delve into the subject.
Regardless of what thoughts turned in his mind, Lucien still placed the SwiftSpeak into Fleur's hand, casually adding, "You know, cross-border connection still has lag right now, especially for audio and images."
Fleur took the notebook, a bright, beautiful smile blooming between her brows and eyes.
"But I believe you will solve this problem very soon, won't you?"
Without waiting for Lucien to answer, she continued, "If possible, please send a new, improved SwiftSpeak once it's done, okay?"
After a thought, Fleur added earnestly, "Mm, I think sotis voice and images are much richer than text."
After saying this, she quickly raised the cara in her hand, a cheerful smile rippling across her face as if the conversation just now had been nothing out of the ordinary.
"By the way, shall we take a photo together?"
Lucien naturally had no reason to refuse. He gently drew his wand and flicked the tip. The cara floated steadily in mid-air, the lens aid at where they stood.
Fleur walked to his side. in the mont of silence waiting for the shutter to click, she subconsciously glanced sideways at the boy's profile.
His skin is so white, his eyelashes so thick...
Click.
The soft sound of the shutter falling froze this mont in ti.
In the picture, the boy and girl stood shoulder to shoulder in front of a translucent crystal ice rose. Sunlight refracted through the ice sculpture, casting fragnted spots of light on the tips of their hair and shoulders.
Under the effect of magic, this photo would perfectly recreate the scene of this very mont.
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