"You lied," Ollie pouted, arms crossed as he glared up at Kyle like a kitten trying to look menacing.
"I did not," Kyle said, his smile far too calm. Dangerous.
"You said no tutoring!"
"I didn't lie," The adjutant said with a straight face. "This isn't tutoring."
"Then what is this?! Why are you telling me about the Battle of—of—what, even is the Battle of Thirteen Knives and One Drunken Goose?!"
"What Drunken Goose? It's Drunken Guard. And you misunderstood," Kyle said smoothly. "I'm not tutoring. I'm simply giving familial introductions."
"…Huh?"
"I'm just saying," he drawled, eyes glinting, "if I'm planning to make you Oliver Nox, wouldn't it be better to tell you about the family this early on?"
Ollie combusted.
His heart tried to launch itself out of his chest. He panicked, squeaked, and slammed both hands over Kyle's mouth in a frenzied scramble for survival.
He even conjured a spiritual barrier.
A barrier.
Something he had never managed before.
Never. Until now.
