Their conversation was interrupted when one of the wait staff approached the table. “My Lord, the guest you asked us to look out for has arrived.”
“Ah, thank you,” Rupert replied smoothly. “Could you bring him to our table? Much appreciated.”
Ravina blinked, slightly confused. “Is that someone you need to meet? I can leave if you—”
Rupert gently bumped her, a playful smile on his lips. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s not my guest—it’s yours.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Ravina asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
As if on cue, the wait staff returned, guiding none other than Earl to their table. “Right this way, Mr. Hayes.”
“Earl?” Ravina’s eyes widened in shock, but it was nothing compared to the look on Earl’s face when he saw her, seated with Rupert’s arm still casually draped over her shoulders.
“Emily?” Earl’s voice was a mixture of confusion and disbelief as his gaze flicked between Ravina and Rupert. “Who is this?”
Rupert stood with a polite smile and offered his hand. “I am Rupert Maklerin, third son of Baron Maklerin. But don’t worry about titles, Mr. Hayes. I’m sure our dear Emily has been waiting for you. If you’ll excuse me, my lady,” he added, raising Ravina’s hand to his lips for a gentle kiss before making his exit. “I need to check on a few things.”
Earl watched him leave, his expression incredulous. “Get a load of that guy,” he muttered, sliding into the seat in front of Ravina, clearly not impressed.
“Ahem, well, about that…” Ravina began, her voice wavering slightly. “I meant to tell you earlier, but, um... you see, Rupert—I mean, Mr. Maklerin—had asked me to come with him tonight. I was planning to reschedule with you because he owns this restaurant and needed someone to accompany him.”
For a moment, it looked as though the color drained from Earl’s face, though it might have been a trick of the low lighting. “I see,” he said, his voice quiet. “Well, that’s fine.” He stood abruptly, but before he could leave, Ravina reached out and gently caught his arm.
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“Ah, don’t worry about it. Mr. Maklerin is busy with the restaurant, so please, sit and enjoy the meal. You made a reservation and everything, right?” She offered him a reassuring smile. “Besides, you said you wanted to talk about something. What was it?”
Earl hesitated, looking like a miserable puppy, before reluctantly sitting back down. “Ah... yeah,” he muttered, still clearly upset but not wanting to leave like this. “It's…about my teleportation spell, remember when you were upset about it being just purely theoretical?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Ravina replied, grateful for the change of topic. As she spoke, the waiters finally brought out the food and wine—a small starter salad, though it had been delayed. “Oh, the wine is for Mr.—” she began, but Earl immediately picked it up and took a long drink without hesitation.
“Oh, never mind. Thank you,” she said to the server, who bowed before leaving them alone again.
“So, yes, I remember the spell. Why?”
Wiping some wine from his lips, Earl continued, his voice slightly deflated. “Well, I was wondering if you thought you could actually accomplish it. I know you have a knack for spells, so...”
“If I can do the spell, yeah, I suppose I could try...” Ravina said, her mind momentarily drifting. Their teacher had warned that teleportation magic was dangerous, but there was something intuitive about her own magic, a skill that came easy to her and that often worried her. Why was she so naturally skilled at crafting spells? And why did she feel a quiet sadness whenever she thought about it now?
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she looked at Earl. “Sorry, anyways, yeah---yes, I can try. Was that all?” She asked, confused. It seemed like such a simple thing he could have asked her about anytime.
“Yeah,” Earl said quietly, his shoulders slumping slightly. “That’s it. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure... you know.”
But she didn’t know. Earl hadn’t led with his true intentions, as such she would likely never know.
Once again, Earl stood up, preparing to leave.
“Earl?” Ravina asked, puzzled.
“Sorry, I’m just not very hungry right now,” he muttered, his voice filled with quiet defeat. And with that, he left the restaurant.
Ravina watched Earl go, shrugging slightly. “Huh, this is why you shouldn’t snack all day,” she mused to herself, nodding in understanding, completely unaware of what had truly happened. With that, she started in on her salad, glancing around the restaurant for Rupert, wondering where he had disappeared to.
Time passed, and in the end, it wasn’t Rupert who returned but the hostess. She approached with a polite smile. “Lord Maklerin sends his apologies, my lady. He’s been tied up with matters in the restaurant.”
Ravina sighed quietly, a flicker of disappointment passing through her. She smiled back at the hostess and thanked her before returning to her meal. Alone, she found the dinner delicious, though there was a lingering sadness in eating it by herself.