In the Vaise mansion's lounge, Raven sat opposite Clara.
The atmosphere was... dangerous.
It wasn't battlefield-type dangerous, but worse.
Emotional danger.
He could handle corrupted beasts, other Vaises, and taxes. But quiet and angry, Clara?
Death would've been kinder.
'Okay, okay, just breathe. You've trained for this,' Raven told himself.
Then he blinked.
He hadn't trained for this.
He had trained to break necks, not break tension.
He scratched the back of his head.
Clara was sitting across from him, arms crossed, lips slightly pouting, and eyes doing that thing women do when they look straight into your soul and judge your ancestors.
'Okay. Think, Raven. Think. How do normal guys handle this?'
He didn't think about how the original Raven had roped in Clara, because he saw Clara differently than that guy did.
If he were to take that guy's approach, things might worsen.
