"Are you giving up on her?"
Out of the blue, Arnold's queries caught him off guard and he couldn't help but cough so hard, hitting his upper chest with his wrist from the wringing pain.
Even so, he still tried his best to speak for himself as he scrunched his face, keeping up with the tension that suddenly broke loose between them.
"What—"
"What do you mean what, you fool," he retorted. While giving him a glance, he uttered again, "Don't act like you're so surprised about my question."
"No, I didn't think that you would question it—"
"So, are you giving up on her or not?"
"No!" he blurted out as he glared at him. But right away, he averted his gaze as his face flushed out of embarrassment and out of noble etiquette for acting in front of the Grand Duke, and Mystique's father no less.
Unsure of what Arnold would respond, Athan couldn't help but curse inwardly for losing his composure.
"That's good to hear."
