Taming the Protagonist

Chapter 38 : Sisters · Part Three

When Anselm had processed about half of the documents, a soft knock came from outside the study.

“Come in.”

Anselm, already expecting who it was, put down his quill.

“...” The frail and weary Marina gently pushed the door open, slightly relieved to see Anselm not working, but still spoke softly: “I’m very sorry for disturbing you, Lord Hydra.”

“It’s nothing; I was just about to rest.”

Anselm studied the girl’s complex expression and asked gently: “Did something happen, Miss Marina?”

“...No, nothing. Please don’t take it to heart.”

While Marina felt both regret and confusion in the room, she quickly considered another matter.

—That Hitana had not controlled her volume, and their argument had likely been overheard by some maid.

So, Marina had little time to dwell on worry or sadness.

She knew she had to do something immediately to make amends... perhaps Anselm himself didn’t care, but she couldn’t foolishly assume she didn’t need to act.

For the current Marina, the only thing she could do was strive not to be a burden to Hitana, to show her value in Anselm’s eyes as much as possible.

As someone almost one with Hitana, if she could do well, Hitana might receive better treatment from Anselm.

Even if it only improved her evaluation by a fraction, to keep Hitana by Anselm’s side, even if it took her greatest effort for the smallest gain, Marina didn’t care.

Marina firmly believed her sister would one day truly grow up, and until that day came, protecting her, educating her, helping her... all were her duties.

Thus, the girl tried to hide her exhaustion and sadness, smiling at Anselm: “If you have time, may I ask you some questions?”

“Of course.”

Anselm, taking in Marina’s expression fully, smiled: “I’ve already annotated your previous documents. Take a look at them first.”

“...Huh?”

Marina stared blankly at the documents Anselm handed her.

The calm composure she had forced crumbled into bewilderment.

She looked at the clear, elegant handwriting, the numerous annotations almost blending seamlessly with her own writing, without any sense of clutter, and the final evaluation... a surge of almost uncontrollable sourness welled up in her heart.

Just as Hitana, with her extraordinary talent, placed her dignity almost above her life, Marina—intelligent and resilient, yet bearing more of the world’s hardships than Hitana—how could she not crave the same thing, crave respect from others?

She was just a village girl from a remote place, with nothing to catch the eye of a great figure like Hydra except her appearance, and perhaps not even that.

Yet even so, he still respected her, never treating her as an appendage to her genius sister, never showing any frivolous actions or words, nor casually giving her a job to muddle through.

Every meticulous stroke on the documents reflected the genuine respect this young, tolerant figure had for her.

Hitana... how could you be so disrespectful to Lord Hydra?

Thinking of how her sister had offended the respected Lord Hydra countless times, yet received his unconditional patience and forgiveness countless times, Marina’s heart ached uncontrollably.

[If, if I were the one with that talent, would Lord Hydra also—]

A dark, cold glint flashed through Marina’s mind.

“Miss Marina?” Anselm asked softly, “Is there something you don’t understand?”

“...Ah? No, no! Your annotations are very clear!”

Marina snapped back to reality, responding to Anselm in a fluster while feeling ashamed of her earlier thoughts.

“To be precise, your analytical ability is outstanding, Miss Marina.”

Anselm looked at Marina with polite and gentle eyes, making her shift her gaze nervously and shyly: “I... I’m not as great as you say, Lord Hydra.”

“Excessive self-deprecation isn’t a good trait, Miss Marina.”

Anselm chuckled lightly: “Or are you doubting my judgment?”

The girl hurriedly replied: “No! I, how could I dare!”

Doubting Lord Hydra’s judgment wouldn’t that mean Hitana was also a mistake on his part?

“Then you should stand tall and speak to me with confidence, Miss Marina.”

The handsome young noble rested his chin in his hand, not deliberately showing a “charming smile,” just speaking gently: “You have talents I recognize; you can be proud of that. There’s no reason to shrink back, is there?”

The girl with her long snow-white hair tied into a simple braid gazed at that face, so close yet so distant.

She felt her inner timidity gently lifted, her rarely spoken exhaustion and loneliness warmed by sunlight.

In Lord Hydra’s eyes, she wasn’t just a pretty-faced girl, not a crude village girl, not the appendage of a genius sister.

She was a valuable, dignified, capable person in her own right.

“Yes.”

Holding back tears, unwilling to let herself appear unworthy now, Marina stood tall, meeting Anselm’s gaze, responding softly yet firmly: “I will. I won’t let your recognition go to waste.”

“Bring a chair over and sit across from me.”

Anselm smiled: “Ask me any questions you have, no matter how big or small, simple or not.”

Marina no longer felt wild joy or excitement.

She nodded obediently, sat across from Anselm, and without hesitation or concealment, asked about all the things she didn’t understand.

Anselm patiently and meticulously explained the various documents he had processed, including Chishuang Territory’s affairs and private letters sent specifically to him.

Marina listened, entranced; now she realized her tricks against tax officials were no different from child’s play.

Lord Hydra’s effortless grace navigating between two grand dukes left Marina in awe.

If Hitana were here, she’d just shout that nobles were all hypocritical bastards, but Marina earnestly absorbed the knowledge and skills Anselm offered for surviving and thriving in this society, deeply aware of her own shortcomings.

“Lord Hydra, regarding Count Ironstone’s private army mobilization request, why did you—”

“Grr~”

The girl’s face turned crimson instantly; she clutched her stomach, a soft, panicked sound like a kitten escaping her throat: “Um, I, I...”

“Three hours have passed already?” Anselm, as if he hadn’t heard the sound, remarked, “Even I lost track of time. Miss Marina, as a student, you’re far more outstanding than I expected.”

“I should have my meal too, Miss Marina. Let’s end today’s lesson here, shall we?”

Marina stood, holding the annotated notes Anselm gave her, bowing deeply: “I will not let your guidance go to waste, Lord Hydra.”

Anselm waved with a smile: “No need to put pressure on yourself. Go eat first, Miss Marina.”

With burning ears, the girl lifted her skirt, performing an increasingly practiced lady’s curtsy, then covered her face and fled like a startled deer.

Anselm watched Marina leave with a smile, stretching leisurely.

“Your time is running out, dear Hitana.”

He leaned back in his chair lazily, murmuring with amusement and pleasure:

“So, what choice will you make?”

“It’s... truly exciting.”