Inside a coffee shop, the bell above the door chid softly. Behind the counter, a waitress dressed in a neatly pressed uniform hurriedly grabbed a plate holding a Caral Latte and two chocolate donuts. Her crimson hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and her dark green eyes scanned the room as she balanced the tray in her hands. She turned toward the custor who had placed the order.
Sitting alone at a table ant for four, the young man exuded an air of quiet refinent. His onyx-black hair was ticulously tied into a ponytail, not a strand out of place. He sat with perfect posture, his hands clasped together on the table, waiting patiently with his eyes closed. His milky-white skin gave him a delicate appearance, making Nivella instinctively want to pinch his cheeks. Handso or cute—she couldn't quite decide. But one thing was certain: he was srizing to look at.
The noble aura that practically radiated from him left little doubt that he belonged to an influential clan. He was undoubtedly a noble. As a Grade-2 Interdiate, Nivella instinctively tried to sense his mana, but she felt nothing. That ant he was either dormant, a master, or even beyond that. However, considering his youthful appearance and the fragile elegance he carried, she dismissed the thought of him being a master. He looked like soone who had never even held a sword. Strangely, just gazing at him stirred a protective instinct within her. It was a peculiar feeling—one she couldn't quite explain but sohow understood.
Realizing she had been staring for too long, Nivella snapped out of her daze, shaking her head slightly before making her way toward him.
'H-He didn't notice staring, right? His eyes were closed the entire ti... so I should be safe.'
The last thing she needed was trouble. If this noble turned out to be one of those arrogant young masters who wielded their influence recklessly, he could have her fired with a snap of his fingers. She couldn't afford that. She liked her job, and more importantly, she needed the money. Supporting her little brother was her priority—she was determined to send him to a normal high school. He wasn't blessed with talent, and she refused to let him enroll in one of those hero academies. Their parents had already been lost to void creatures; she couldn't bear the thought of losing him too. Even if becoming a hero ca with free tuition, she didn't care. She would work hard, no matter what it took, to give him a normal life.
Forcing those thoughts aside, she plastered on the brightest smile she could muster—like a flower blooming in spring—and spoke in a cheerful, warm voice.
"Dear custor, here is your order! One Caral Latte and two chocolate donuts."
The mont she spoke, the young man's eyes fluttered open, revealing a pair of striking scarlet-red irises. He turned toward her with a gentle smile—so soft and sincere that it made her pause for a brief mont before hurriedly setting his food in front of him.
"Thank you for your hard work," he said softly.
Nivella blinked in surprise before her smile brightened even more.
"Of course! But please be careful, the cup is hot."
The young noble nodded slightly before picking up the cup with practiced grace. He gently blew over the surface to cool it down, then, without hesitation, took a sip. Placing the cup back on the table, he smacked his lips lightly, a content expression settling on his face before he released a soft sigh.
"It's delicious."
Nivella felt a wave of relief at his words.
"I'm glad it's to your liking."
As she spoke, the young man glanced around at the other empty seats before quietly musing,
"Seems like I'm the only custor today."
"Ah, well, it's still a bit early. We usually get packed around lunch hours."
At her response, he t her gaze.
"Then that ans you don't have much work to do right now, right?"
"H-Huh?" Nivella blinked, caught off guard.
"Ah, no, not really. There isn't much to do at the mont..."
"Then would you mind keeping company until my friend arrives?"
A bewildered expression crossed her face as she hesitated.
"I wouldn't want to be a bother..."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"How could you be? I'm the one inviting you, after all. Please, you would be doing a great favor by keeping from feeling lonely."
"I-If you insist."
Saying that, she hurriedly sat on the opposite side of the table, stiffly holding herself as he continued to smile gently. He took another sip from his cup before speaking in the sa soft, warm voice.
"If it isn't rude of , may I ask for your na?"
Blinking, she answered without hesitation.
"Umm, Nivella... just Nivella."
"Miss Nivella. That is a beautiful na."
His words painted an involuntary, embarrassed smile on her face as she thanked him in a quiet voice. Watching him, she saw him pick up one of the donuts, taking a moderate bite. The mont he tasted it, his eyes seed to brighten, and his face relaxed.
'He's cute… I-I an, the way he's enjoying his food is cute! Not him! Wait, but… no, he is cute as well, I suppose…'
"...."
Then, tentatively, she asked,
"If... it isn't rude, may I ask you a question?"
Her words made him stop chewing for a mont. He t her gaze before swallowing and smiling again, nodding his head.
"Of course. Ask anything."
A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips.
"...A-Are you perhaps from a clan?"
Tilting his head slightly, he asked in return,
"What have I done to make you think that I am?"
Looking at him, she quickly averted her eyes.
"Well... it's just the way you sit, eat, speak… small things like that, you know? S-sorry, it was a stupid question. Please ignore it!"
The custor, however, rely shook his head slightly.
"It's not a stupid question. You're right—I am from a clan."
His words made her eyes widen.
'I knew it! A young master! Wait… but he doesn't seem like the typical arrogant noble prince. He actually seems like a kind person…'
Unable to hold back her curiosity, she opened her mouth again.
"Then… can I know which clan you're fr—"
Her words were abruptly cut off as the bell above the entrance chid, signaling another custor. Just as she was about to get up to greet them, a loud voice rang out.
"Oh my! Don't tell I've co at a bad ti. Is this perhaps a date, Azriel? Bold of you to move so fast after daring to set up with so random old hag by giving her my number!"
Turning towards the newcor, she barely had ti to register his words before her entire body froze. She felt the blood in her veins turn cold as her gaze locked onto a face she had never imagined eting in her life—not even once. Of course, she recognized him.
Anyone would.
He was infamous.
"S-S-S-Saint Solomon!?"
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