Chapter 174: _Feelings Threatening To Consume You

"Ambrose, what are you doing here?" Viktor took closer steps toward the dining table, squinting with suspicion as he looked between the Guide and his mother.

Ambrose managed to keep a practised smile but failed woefully in maintaining eye contact with Viktor. Not when he stared down at him with those icy blue orbs.

Fortunately, Irina was more than happy to give her son an explanation. "Viktor, darling, relax." She swirled the wine in her glass, taking a little sip. "There’s no need to pretend to be hostile now."

Viktor and even Ambrose frowned when they heard all that. The former chimed. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, I know you were at the Guide’s place earlier today. Or, at the very least, Phoenix Flight HQ."

"How—"

"Right after you were alerted to something that could threaten your life," Irina tilted her head slowly. "I’m not one to jump to conclusions but... I mean look at you. So much better than what the report files say."

Ambrose’s jaw ticked.

He knew it. He fucking knew it.

This fake ass get together was because of the issue of Viktor almost going berserk today.

"Phoenix Flight has some of the best guiding pills in the country, mother." Viktor seamlessly found an excuse. "Besides, who said anything about being better? If anything I’ve got a headache now and need to go—"

He inched away from the table, ready to pivot.

"What you’ll do young man..." Irina didn’t yell, nor did her aether stir. Yet the air answered her tone, dropping the temperature in the room until frost lined the ceiling above.

"... is stay. It’s rude to walk off when you have a guest. Especially one whom you invited onto our battleship once upon a time. During the Echo Rift dungeon break."

Viktor froze, the words slamming into his chest more than any physical blow. If he wanted to will himself to forget anything else, it wasn’t that day.

The day he got the Guide into their ship in exchange for a favour—a favour that happened to be the very date on which he created the permanent link without his knowledge.

Back then he thought he’d managed to play Devon and get close to winning the stupid game in his head. Now he knew—he was the one being played all this while.

Gradually, Viktor straightened, adjusting the bathrobe he had on. "I just came out of the shower... give me a minute to dress up."

His smile didn’t exactly reach his eyes as he turned away and headed for the stairs.

Irina smirked like it was merely another Tuesday in the Morozov household. "Forgive my boy," her head angled to Ambrose. "He’s usually more welcoming. I believe you’re aware of that."

Ambrose nodded awkwardly as he lowered his gaze to the food before him.

He was also aware that Viktor clearly still needed time to process his confessions.

As easy-going as the S-Rank was, there was only so much he could mask before being unable to. This just might be the proverbial nail in the coffin.

★★★★★

Just like Viktor promised, he returned in quite a fashionable outfit minutes later.

His snow white hair was slicked back while he was draped in an icy blue leather jacket with a white t-shirt inside. He pulled out a chair beside Ambrose, lounging with the grace of a cat in its fifth afternoon nap.

Ambrose swerved his head to him.

The Esper’s expression barely shifted as he grabbed a fork to dig into a steaming plate of pasta.

"So," Irina drummed her fingers leisurely on the table, leaning back with the brightest smile in the room, "I’m glad we’re all here tonight. My son."

She gestured at Viktor before that same hand moved to Ambrose’s direction. "And the Guide who might be fated to him."

Ambrose’s face paled while Viktor’s fork scraped harshly against the ceramic plate. They both avoided eye contact, sputtering to debunk the accusation.

"Mother, that’s atrocious."

"It’s nothing like that at all, Ma’am. We’re... we’re just—"

"Kids, please." She chuckled, covering her mouth with a hand. "It was merely a statement. No need to get so worked up."

Viktor’s grip tightened just slightly around his fork. Ambrose placed all his attention on the wine, pouring himself a full glass before taking a short sip.

"It was a wild statement to make, mother." Viktor persisted. "I don’t know what the medics might’ve told you, but even if I had a permanent Guide, I doubt it’ll be a mere C-Rank."

On a normal day, Ambrose would’ve probably taken offence at the disdain Viktor used in saying the words C-Rank.

But he knew it was forced this time. An effort to get that idea out of his mother’s head.

Lucky for them, Irina wasn’t one to drag a topic aimlessly. She grabbed a fork and a knife, cutting into a special beef dish she’d guided the chefs in making this evening.

"By the way, Ambrose." She took the first bite, simultaneously pinning her gaze on the Guide. "I’ve been meaning to ask you if we ever got the chance to see each other again."

The infuriatingly long pause made him anxious enough to take a large gulp from his wine.

Fucking hell, what now?

"... The Echo Rift." The older woman rolled her fingers in a calm circle. "How did it feel, stepping through a Cataclysm Level Rift while many at your rank haven’t even set foot inside an A-Rank dungeon?"

Ambrose dropped the glass with unnecessary care. "I..." his throat suddenly felt clogged. "It was truly awe-inspiring, Ma’am. I doubt any other experience in this life would be able to get to that point."

The unbroken curve on Irina’s lips was free of suspicion. Yet behind those sharp eyes—she made an assessment.

Everything from the lad’s facial expression to any slight shifts in his tone. Nothing out of place. But it wouldn’t stop her from—

"Excuse me, is there a restroom I can use?" Ambrose got up so abruptly that the chair nearly fell back.

Irina arched her brow. "... Of course. Viktor, dear, please show our guest to the nearest restroom."

Viktor’s fingers coiled back to his palms. He tried not to look like a bitter jerk, the ghost of a smirk stretching his lips. "Follow me, Rory."

He stood up as well, his eyes meeting the Guide’s in the fastest glance ever. Then he adjusted his jacket and began walking—Ambrose following close behind.

"Rory," Irina echoed with a knowing shake of her head once they were out of sight. "You’ve already got a pet name for the boy. Still, you pretend like there aren’t feelings threatening to consume you."

She picked a shrimp with a bored look behind her eyes. "You’ve always been good at pretending, synok. But you’re so quick to forget who you learnt that from..."

Meanwhile, Viktor grabbed Ambrose’s hand the second they turned a corner to the stairs. He didn’t squeeze hard but his grip was vice-like.

"Hey—" Ambrose couldn’t even find the words to protest, his cheeks burning when they walked past some maids.

The second they got to a door in the hallway upstairs, Viktor swung it open and shoved the Guide in. His taller, broader form swallowed the doorway as he drew nearer.

"What the fuck is happening, Ambrose?"