[BL] The Darling Villain

Chapter 21. Skinny Little Stick Arms

The next day was a Saturday.

The sound of sweat beads dripping onto the wooden floor had resounded in the gymnasium. A yell broke out amongst the clangs of swords. Azalea hurriedly picked himself up from the floor, then swung his wooden sword at Willow. The maidservant swiftly blocked all of his attacks, with not a single fluctuation across her indifferent face.

"It's my turn!" A deafening roar came from behind her.

Willow spun on the spot, kicking Azalea away without looking. Turning to the back, Willow blocked Daphnne's incoming attack.

"Are you sure you want your opponent to know that you're attacking?" Willow questioned. For some odd reason, a sliver of mischief and smirk had fleeted through her eyes.

Daphnne blushed, with the flush reaching to the roots of her ears.

She tried to babble her way out of the mess, "Um- I just didn't want you to get hurt!"

Willow let loose a funny smile. "How are your skinny little stick arms supposed to hurt me?"

Daphnne wanted to retort that her own arms were not even as skinny as hers—but decided to shut her mouth. She should be grateful that she got such a smart and promising instructor. She will become stronger this way for sure...!

"It's noon already." Lucilline yawned. He and Percival sat on the bench together.

Augustine was busy shoveling dirt back in Duke Rubius' manor.

"I will go buy some lunch for these dear hard-workers." The longer Lucilline looked at his friends' progress, the happier he became. For some odd reason, he wanted to reward them a treat. "I'll be back in a jiffy!" His slender figure ran out of the gymnasium.

"Ah-" Percival panicked. "I'm coming with you!"

He ran after the third son of Duke Rubius.

Out on the streets, the roads were busy with carriages guided by tamed horses. Lucilline strolled on the streets, bypassing several lampposts. By his side was Percival, whose back was straight due to his nervousness.

"What kind of lunch is Lucilline planning to buy?" Percival asked, curious.

Lucilline stopped in his tracks. "Here."

Percival turned to look at where he stopped—it was a desserts shop.

"...Lucilline, do you have a knack for sweets?" Percival couldn't comprehend how a person could eat desserts for lunch. (This is coming from a person who eats baby tomatoes for lunch)

Lucilline didn't answer. He directly dragged Percival by the wrist, leading both of them inside the small store.

The fragrance of delicious cinnamon buns had permeated in the shop, with a warm embrace lingering in the atmosphere. Percival's mouth almost watered upon smelling the scent. It smelled of sugar melting on the surface of roasted toast—which were just taken out from the oven—still fluffy and buoyant.

"Hello there, could I order—" Lucilline listed his order to the cashier.

There wasn't a single customer aside from them inside the shop. The empty seats had irked Percival's curiosity. "How come there's no customers?" His voice was small.

Lucilline heard him and flashed him a smile. "The shop owner is a commoner."

Just that one sentence had made Percival understand.

By his side, his hand clenched into a fist, as if balling all of his frustrations in one motion—

"Come on!" Lucilline tried to cheer him up. He grabbed Percival's hands in a swoop, with his cold black-laced gloves assaulting the brown-haired nobleman's skin. Cold gloves touched warm hands. The friction between the two temperatures made Percival feel as if mist was about to spew out from their touch.