Chapter 444: My Sister Isn’t A Cheap Women!

By the time she finally stopped, two hours had passed.

Mavis had no idea where the time had gone. It felt like minutes—barely a moment of shared discovery and excitement.

She was exhausted from talking, sweat beading on her face, her voice hoarse from explaining.

The storage area around them was in complete chaos, devices scattered everywhere, boxes overturned, shelves emptied.

But she didn’t care. She could clean this up later.

The knowledge she had gained today and the validation she had received was worth any amount of tedious reorganization!

Still, one thing made her body tense and heat up in ways she didn’t fully understand.

She slowly turned her gaze to where Luca was standing beside her.

He was examining one of her devices, turning it over in his hands, appreciating the intricate engravings she had painstakingly carved into the metal.

But his other hand...

His other hand was stroking her.

Not deliberately. Not consciously. His fingers moved through her fur in slow, gentle strokes, threading through the white strands like he was petting a cat.

He wasn’t even looking at her, as his attention was on the device. But his hand continued its rhythmic motion, touching her body as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mavis’s entire body had gone rigid.

’What. Is. He. Doing?!’

Her clothing was a simple workshop robe with openings cut into the sides for movement, so some parts were bare, and that was exactly where his hand had settled.

And she could feel every single stroke, every thread of her fur being smoothed flat and then ruffled back up.

She should be furious. She was furious. He was treating her like—like livestock, like something you could just reach out and scratch without asking, and she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of it.

She opened her mouth to do precisely that.

And nothing came out.

Because...it felt really good.

His fingers were perfect, finding just the right pressure, moving in small circles against the grain of her fur.

It was not a patronizing pat. It was a massage. A really, really good massage.

The kind that made you want to melt into a puddle and forget your own name.

’No.’ She clenched her jaw. ’No. I am Mavis! I am not a horse. I am not going to stand here and melt like some—’

"Mmmm—!"

Luca’s fingers found a spot right above her hindquarters and she very nearly made a sound.

The infamous ’horse-whispering’ skills Luca had demonstrated with Sigrid were now being applied to her—and they were devastatingly effective.

But Mavis was not like her sister. She was bolder, more outspoken, less constrained by tradition.

But even she found herself struggling to speak, caught between anger and comfort.

Finally, she settled on a glare.

"What exactly are you doing, Dummy Hero?"

She folded her arms, trying to look stern.

"Do you go around stroking every single centaur you see? Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?"

Luca blinked, confused. "What? I—"

Then he looked down at his hand and realized what he was doing.

"Ah! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!" He waved his hands apologetically. "My hand just...it went over on its own. You see, I normally stroke Sigrid like this all the time—her fur is so fluffy—and since you have the same color fur, I unconsciously thought it was her for a moment."

Mavis’s eye twitched.

’He strokes Big Sis all the time?’

"I’m really sorry if I offended you." Luca continued earnestly. He showed her his own head and hand. "You can brush my hair if you want—as payback. I don’t mind."

Mavis clicked her tongue.

"There’s no need for that."

Though she had to admit, his hair did look quite fluffy. The temptation was...considerable.

But she had more important questions.

"So you do this with my sister all the time?"

She knew Sigrid let him sit on her back, that was part of the bet. But this was different.

This was casual intimacy, the kind of touch that went beyond obligation.

"Yep. All the time." Luca answered casually.

"And she lets you?" Mavis’s voice climbed. "I know she lets you sit on her—she lost the bet, she has to, that’s honor—but I assumed she’d at least draw the line at being petted like a farm animal."

"Not at all." Luca shook his head. "Honestly, I could probably stroke any part of her body and she wouldn’t mind."

"What?!" She said in shock, and then scoffed. "That’s nonsense! My sister would never allow that! She’s—she’s Sigrid! She has more dignity in one hoof than the rest of this village combined. She may have lost a bet, but she’d never let you just—paw at her! Don’t talk about my sister like she’s some soft thing you can play with."

She was genuinely annoyed, and it showed.

Luca looked at her for a moment with a strange, warm expression.

"...What’s this? I thought you two were at war with each other. Why are you getting angry on her behalf?"

Mavis didn’t hesitate.

"Of course I’m angry on her behalf." She lifted her chin. "We fight. We fight constantly. She calls my inventions worthless and I call her a muscle-brained oaf."

Her voice went slightly dark. "She also told me I’d never be a knight. In front of everyone. I’m not going to pretend that didn’t happen."

Then the dark thing passed, and she shrugged

"But she’s still my sister. She’s still the person I’ve looked up to since before I could walk. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be half as good as she is. So no! I don’t care what she says to me. If someone talks about her like she was a easy women, I’ll fight them every time!"

She folded her arms. "That’s just how it is!"

Luca was quiet for a moment. And something in his chest went soft, because he recognized this concern and sisterly love.

More exactly, sometimes when he teased Sigrid, her expression would drift. She’d laugh, and then her eyes would slide off to the side, and for just a second there’d be something heavy sitting behind them, and he’d assumed it was exhaustion or duty or the weight of command.

It wasn’t. It was this. It was the same thing, on the other side of the same argument—the older sister thinking about the younger one, wanting to fix it, and not knowing how.

’They’re both sitting up at night thinking about each other.’ He thought. ’And neither one will say a word.’

He set the brass contraption back on the shelf.

"You should say that to her."

Mavis startled. "What?"

"What you just said. About looking up to her. About fighting anyone who talks about her like she’s small." He shrugged. "You could walk into the village right now and say that to her, and I promise you, the entire fight would be over in about thirty seconds."

Mavis’s face went through several colors in rapid succession.

"No." She said. "No. That’s—that’s completely different. That’s not the same thing at all."

"Why not?"

"Because—" She floundered. "Because she started it. Because if I go and say something like that first, she’ll think she won. Because—"

She stopped, looked away, and finished quietly.

"Because I just don’t want to say it alright!"

Luca scratched his head.

’Both sisters are a pain in the ass.’ He thought.

But he knew it wasn’t anything too serious. They would work it out eventually.

"Fine, fine. But you don’t need to get offended by what I said. I wasn’t treating Sigrid with disrespect."

He gave Mavis a knowing look. "It’s just that Sigrid and I have a much closer relationship than you understand. She’s not accommodating me just because she lost a bet. It’s deeper than that."

Mavis’s internal alarms went off.

"What do you mean, Dummy Hero?! What’s going on with your relationship with her?! How close have you gotten?!"

Luca chuckled, a low, infuriatingly enigmatic sound.

"Now, now, Mavis. A gentleman never tells. What happens between a rider and his steed is a sacred, private matter. A Rider’s Covenant of confidentiality, if you will."

"Don’t you dare try that noble-nonsense on me, Dummy Hero!" Mavis stamped a hoof in frustration. "Spill it!"

"Covenant of confidentiality." He repeated, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Very serious. Very binding. Punishable by...a very sternly worded letter. From Thea, probably."

"Luca!"

"If you really want to know." He said, turning away from the diagram and heading towards a dusty shelf. "I suggest you go ask your sister. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to recount all the sordid details for you."

He paused, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

"Though, I doubt she’d be able to tell you the truly interesting parts without her face turning the color of a ripe tomato."

This was, in its own way, a far more devastating answer than a simple ’yes’ or ’no’.

It confirmed her suspicions while also setting her imagination on fire.

Mavis stood there, hooves planted, absolutely bristling.

’That’s a lie.’ She thought. ’That has to be a lie. My sister dedicated her entire life to protecting the queen. She’s never looked at a man twice. She’s never even mentioned a man. There’s no way.’

And then, unhelpfully, the other half of her brain supplied:

’...But he isn’t like the centaurs. He’s charming, and he’s kind, and he treats everyone like an equal, and he’s the only person in this entire village who’s ever made her laugh out loud.’

She wondered if her sister was developing feelings for him.

And the moment she thought that, something bitter twisted in her chest.

’Why am I feeling this?’ She wondered, confused. ’What does it matter to me if my sister has feelings for the Dummy Hero?’

But the more she thought about it, the more it lingered.

She had finally found someone who appreciated her. Someone who understood her work, who praised her inventions, who shared her passion.

Someone who could be her accomplice.

And now her sister was stealing him away.

’No!’ She told herself firmly. ’That’s not it. The Dummy Hero is just the Dummy Hero. My sister can have him. I don’t care!’

She shook her head, laughing at her own foolishness.

’Besides, he’s probably just joking. This is all a trick to tease me. I shouldn’t think about it.’

She walked back to where Luca was standing.

And the moment she stepped next to him, his hand went to her fur again.

He caught himself immediately.

"Sorry, sorry! My hand just went there again—you have the same white fur, and I—"

But before he could finish apologizing, Mavis spoke.

"I don’t mind."

Luca froze.

"What?"

Mavis looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"I said I don’t mind. Do I have to repeat it?" She huffed. "It’s just a bit of petting. I’m not like the rest of the centaurs who obsess over tradition and modesty. You can do whatever you want."

Luca was silent for a moment. Then he smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Mavis. I’ll be careful."

And he resumed stroking her fur.

Mavis looked away, but if anyone could have seen her face, they would have noticed the faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

She didn’t know why she had said it.

But when she thought about Luca petting Sigrid and not petting her—she didn’t like that at all.

So she had done the same.

’It’s just a bit of fur touching, she told herself. It means nothing. Nothing at all.’

But some gears were already turning in her heart.

And she found herself thinking that maybe Luca really was telling the truth about her sister.

Because if his strokes felt this good to her, she could only imagine how they might affect Sigrid.

’Even I might let him touch me all over.’ She thought.

And then immediately banished that disgraceful thought from her mind.