"Hmm." Tara Summer nodded, Bastian's mental age might have been thirty-five, but his body was not even twenty-five yet, indeed like a little boy.
Fiona Schmidt's brows furrowed more tightly, and after a long time, she waved her hands and said, "Forget it, forget it. Technically, he should be calling me 'sister' since I'm older than him. I won't hold it against him today!"
She patted her chest briskly, assuring Tara Summer, "Don't worry, as the marshal's sister, I, Fiona Schmidt, do have that much magnanimity!"
"Thank you." Tara Summer's smile deepened, "Since that's the case, I apologize on behalf of Bastian once again..."
"No need, it has nothing to do with me." Fiona shrugged, her brows slightly knitted but her expression much more relaxed and calm, "...However, Bastian is lucky to have a cousin like you!"
