Reiner's mouth was barely a centimeter away from committing a capital offense when Cherion's palm slammed over it.
"Mmph…! Lord Cheri…hnghh!"
The sound Reiner made was less like a human sentence and more like a distressed badger being stuffed into a sack. Cherion didn't just cover the boy's mouth, he practically tried to fuse their bone structures together. He could feel Reiner's frantic eyelashes fluttering against his knuckles, but his gaze was locked entirely on the woman standing three feet away.
Marielle. The Duke's sister. The woman who, in Cherion's very humble estimation, suffered from a terminal, stage-four case of "Brother Complex" that would make even the most devoted saint look like a distant acquaintance.
"Ah, haha," Cherion's laugh sounded like a hinge hadn't been opened in years. "He's just... excited. You know how Reiner gets. Too much mountain air. Not enough oxygen to the brain."
