Chapter 117: Seems Nice

Chapter 117: Chapter 117: Seems Nice

"And the winner is Clair Drakenclaw, with runner-up..." The professor announced the results of the race. Charles had come in at tenth place. Everyone else was still catching their breath at the finish line except for two—Charles and Clair.

"She is your sister?" Arabelle asked in surprise.

"More like a cousin from a vassal family," Xavier replied. "Drakenfell has three vassal houses—Drakenclaw, Drakenfang, and Drakentail—all led by the descendants of Drakenfell ancestors."

"So basically, she would be my sister-in-law," Arabelle said. She noticed Clair moving toward them. "She’s coming here. I should make a good first impression." She hurriedly fixed her clothes, smoothed her hair, and straightened her posture. A faint nervous tension tightened her shoulders.

Xavier met her sharp eyes as she walked toward them with firm steps, more like a soldier than anything else. Her teal hair gently flowed under the cool breeze of the summer morning. Her breasts shifted slightly under the tight crop top that held them firmly in place, the fabric rising and falling with each steady stride.

A claw shaped birthmark became evident on her right shoulder as she closed the distance. Xavier stood up from his seat. Arabelle, noticing him rise, stood as well.

He remained silent as Clair came within a meter of them and immediately dropped to one knee, planting her right fist on the ground. The faint thud of her fist against the packed earth carried clearly in the quiet corner.

"Clair of House Drakenclaw offers her respect to the Young Lord," she said, voice firm yet sweet.

"We are in the academy. You need not follow the formalities," Xavier said, trying to ease the situation. Their seats were in a corner out of the main crowd’s eyes, but participants from other races were still nearby. A few glances turned their way as Clair offered her greeting.

"Family comes first. Without your blessing I shall not move forward," Clair replied, still kneeling with her head lowered.

As a vassal house, the traditions had been drilled into them by their predecessors: always stay loyal and act with respect toward the main house of Drakenfell. Xavier knew there was no getting out of this unless he gave her what she wanted.

Arabelle silently observed from the side. She watched Xavier’s demeanor shift suddenly. The natural playful smile that always stayed on his face vanished, replaced by something colder. His eyes sharpened. His posture became more dignified. His entire presence changed, carrying a quiet weight that settled over the space between them.

"Rise, Clair of Drakenclaw. All you need to do is rise, and your name shall become immortal in the pages of history," Xavier said in a cold tone.

Chills ran down Arabelle’s spine as she realized at once that the Xavier standing before her eyes was no longer the Rank 2 freshman she knew, but the heir of the Drakenfell Dukedom and its next ruler. A cool prickle spread across her skin.

At his words Clair finally looked up at the figure of Xavier standing tall in front of her.

"With your blessing I shall achieve it all," she replied, keeping the serious expression on her face.

"Are you done? Can we act normal now?" Xavier asked, dropping the entire persona and returning instantly to the version familiar to Arabelle. The shift was almost visible—shoulders easing, eyes softening.

"Why are you always running away from formalities, Brother?" Clair said, rising back to her feet. Her demeanor shifted into something more casual. "You don’t even let me call you Young Lord. You do realize this won’t fly when you actually take the place of the Duke?" She spoke in a tone that almost sounded like complaining.

"I’ll deal with it when it happens. For the time being I’m more comfortable without being addressed by my title all the time," he replied.

"Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Arabelle." Noticing the conversation had become casual, Arabelle tried to introduce herself, a little shyly. Her voice carried a soft, uncertain edge.

"Hi. I’m Clair Drakenclaw, fifth-year Rank 2." Clair replied, then snapped right back to Xavier. "You sleeping with her?" she asked with zero reservation.

Arabelle’s cheeks turned red from embarrassment at once, heat blooming across her face, but Xavier remained unfazed. He already knew Clair and her blunt nature.

"Yes, we are," Xavier replied. He was confident she would keep it to herself.

"I knew it wouldn’t be long before you got with a woman. There was always something different about you from other men." Clair looked at Arabelle again, more carefully this time, sizing her up from top to bottom. "What was it that did it for you? Her huge breasts or her being a bovinekin? Well, anyway—congratulations."

Arabelle’s ears turned red as well from the nature of the conversation, but she still managed a reply. "Thanks."

"Up next I have the swimming exam. Will you stay and watch?" Clair asked Xavier.

"Yeah, we will," he replied.

Before long the professor called the participants of the swimming race. Voices rose again across the field.

"I must go change before they start." Clair left at once, making her way to the changing room. Her steps remained purposeful and even.

"So... what do you think of her?" Xavier asked Arabelle.

"She’s too direct, but she seems nice," Arabelle replied, finally easing her firm posture. She had been impressed just from watching Clair’s sprint—the confidence on her face. For a bovinekin who valued physical strength and endurance above almost anything else, it was natural for her to admire Clair Drakenclaw.

As the lineup began to form, Clair came out of the changing room wearing a sleek, form-fitting compression swimsuit unmistakably designed for competition. The smooth black fabric hugged her body like a second skin, tracing every contour of her lean curves. A high neckline emphasized the shape of her plump breasts, while an open back revealed the full length of her spine. Open side cuts at the waist left little to the imagination. The fabric barely covered her ass, the lower curve of her cheeks peeking out from the hem, finishing right at the crease where her thighs met her pelvis. Her long legs and luscious thick thighs were put on full display. The material stretched taut around her ass with a glossy sheen that gave her butt a bubbly, firm appearance under the summer sun.

As she walked to her position her ass swayed heavily with each step, the fabric shifting with a soft, taut stretch.

Taking her place, she adjusted her swimsuit. With one finger she hooked the hem on the underside of her ass, pulled it down, and let it snap back. The elastic fabric sent a wave of jiggle across her cheeks before settling with a faint, sharp sound.