Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest-Chapter 695 156.1 - She can’t say

"Young Miss."

The moment she had heard this sound, Irina froze, her entire body tensing as the familiar sound of Esme's voice echoed from the doorway. Her fiery eyes widened in horror, and her head snapped toward the sound, her heart dropping at the sight of her family's head maid standing there, her expression calm but her sharp gaze taking in every detail of the scene.

Astron, ever composed, loosened his grip around Irina's waist and straightened his posture. His sharp purple eyes flicked toward Esme with a calm, almost indifferent expression, as though being caught in this compromising position was entirely unremarkable.

Irina, on the other hand, was anything but composed.

"E-Esme!" she stammered, her face a deep crimson as she scrambled to stand, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. "What-why are you-how long have you-" Esme's lips twitched ever so slightly, the barest hint of amusement breaking through her professional demeanor. "I came to inform you that Matriarch is asking for you," she said, her tone as smooth and composed as ever. "It's almost noon, and she was wondering why you missed breakfast."

Irina's stomach dropped further at the mention of her mother. "Noon?!" she exclaimed, glancing at the clock on the wall in a panic. "Why didn't anyone wake me up?!"

Esme's gaze flicked briefly to Astron, and the faintest trace of a knowing look crossed her face before she turned back to Irina. "You seemed... preoccupied," she said delicately.

Irina's face burned hotter, and she shot Astron a quick glare, as though blaming him for the entire situation. "I'll... I'll get ready and go," she said quickly, her voice strained as she tried to regain some semblance of composure.

Esme inclined her head slightly, her sharp eyes lingering on Astron for just a moment. before she turned and exited the room.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Irina slumped against the counter, covering her face with her hands as a muffled groan escaped her lips. "This is a nightmare," she muttered.

Astron leaned casually against the counter beside her, his calm demeanor unshaken. "I'd say it's more of a comedy," he said, his tone light but tinged with amusement.

Irina groaned louder, her embarrassment reaching its peak. "Shut up," she mumbled, refusing to look at him.

"Why?"

Seeing her face, Astron leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed casually as he regarded Irina with a faint smirk. "You know," he began, his voice carrying that infuriatingly calm tone, "for someone who was so bold yesterday, you seem awfully unsure today."

Irina's head shot up, her fiery red eyes narrowing as her embarrassment turned to irritation. "Bold?!" she snapped, her voice rising slightly. "You think-"

"You were the one who told me to stay," Astron interrupted smoothly, his tone still maddeningly composed. "You made the decision. You even said you didn't care about anything else in the moment."

Irina froze, her lips parting as the memory of her words from the previous night. resurfaced. The warmth, the closeness, the conviction she'd felt-it all came rushing back, and with it, a twinge of shame for how she'd been acting now.

"You made your choice," Astron continued, his sharp purple eyes locking onto hers. "So why regret it now?"

Her initial irritation faded, replaced by a quiet realization that left her chest tightening. He was right-she had made a decision, and it wasn't like her to backpedal on something she'd resolved to do. She wasn't someone who ran from her choices.

Her hands lowered from her face, and her fiery gaze met his. "You're right," she admitted quietly, her voice steadying. "I did make a promise to myself."

Astron's smirk softened slightly, though he didn't respond. He simply watched her, waiting for her to continue.

Irina took a deep breath, straightening her posture as she pushed her embarrassment aside. "I'll be ready in ten minutes," she said firmly, her confidence returning as she turned on her heel and strode toward the stairs. "Don't go anywhere."

As she disappeared up the stairs, Astron glanced after her, his expression unreadable. A quiet hum escaped him as he turned his attention back to tidying the kitchen. He was already dressed and ready for the day-his black shirt neatly buttoned, his boots polished, and his hair still slightly damp from his earlier shower.

Before Irina had woken, Astron had already completed his morning routine. He'd trained rigorously in the Emberheart training grounds, honing his precision and strength as he always did. By the time she'd stumbled into the kitchen, flustered and disheveled, he was already several steps ahead.

Now, as he waited for her to return, his thoughts lingered on their brief but chaotic morning.

'It is indeed weird....

For a long time in a while, he was feeling something like this and it was oddly weird.

But, at this point, had already been accustomed to hese feelings.

At least, he had started to.

As Astron worked swiftly through the kitchen, his hands moved with practiced precision. He disliked leaving any trace of chaos behind, especially after such a noisy morning. Each dish, utensil, and pan was cleaned and placed neatly back where it belonged. His movements were methodical, almost rhythmic, as the soothing flow of the task grounded his thoughts.

By the time he finished, the kitchen looked immaculate, as though the earlier flurry of activity had never occurred. The only evidence left behind were faint scuff marks on the tiled floor, remnants of their impromptu "battle." Astron crouched briefly, inspecting them with a discerning eye, and prepared to wipe them away when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps descending the stairs.

Irina appeared in the doorway, her fiery red hair slightly damp from a quick rinse and tied loosely behind her. She had changed into a more formal outfit-something fitting for the heir of the Emberheart family-and yet, her flushed cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of their earlier exchange.

Astron straightened, his sharp purple eyes flicking to her with mild curiosity. "You're faster than I expected," he remarked, his tone casual as he set the cleaning cloth aside. Irina scoffed, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she stepped into the kitchen. "Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of taking my time," she said briskly, though there was a hint of unease in her voice. Her gaze darted to the spotless kitchen, and her brows furrowed slightly. "You already cleaned everything?"

"Of course," Astron replied, turning to the faint marks on the floor and crouching again. "I don't like leaving a mess." His voice carried no hint of pride, just a

matter-of-factness that made her feel both impressed and mildly irritated.

"Still a perfectionist, I see," she muttered, crossing her arms. "You didn't have to go

that far. It's not like anyone else would've cared."

He glanced up at her briefly, his expression unreadable. "I would've cared."

That simple response made Irina's heart skip, though she quickly masked it by clearing

her throat and looking away. "Well, good. At least it won't give Esme or my mother

something else to complain about."

At the mention of her mother, a flicker of tension crossed her face, and Astron noticed. Though he had no intention of teasing her about it, he also understood the weight of dealing with someone as imposing as the Matriarch.

As Astron wiped away the last faint scuff marks from the floor, Irina lingered by the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression half-hidden behind her fiery red hair. She straightened when he set the cloth aside, watching as he gestured for them to leave. Without a word, they stepped out of the kitchen, Astron's steps calm and measured while Irina's were brisk with a faint undercurrent of tension.

As they made their way toward the main mansion, Astron broke the silence. "Why do you think she's called for you?" he asked, his tone light but curious. Irina's brow furrowed, and she let out a soft sigh. "It's probably about the trip I've planned," she replied, her voice carrying a faint edge of annoyance. Astron raised an eyebrow, the question clear in his sharp gaze. "Trip?"

Irina glanced sideways at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips despite the

lingering tension in her chest. "Of course," she said, her tone tinged with amusement. "Did you really think I'd spend my one-week vacation here in this mansion, under my mother's ever-watchful eyes? That would be torture."

Not that it wouldn't be tempting to see you squirm around her, she thought,

suppressing a chuckle.

Astron shook his head, his expression unreadable as a faint hint of exasperation flickered in his eyes. "Indeed," he said simply, his voice steady but laced with a trace of

dry humor.

Irina straightened her posture, her fiery gaze fixed ahead as they approached the main mansion. The looming structure cast long shadows across the path, its grandeur and authority an ever-present weight on her shoulders.

This place feels more like a gilded cage every time I return, she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. A beautiful one, but a cage all the same. No wonder I'm counting down the seconds until we leave.

Her mind drifted briefly to the logistics of their upcoming trip. She had spent weeks planning it, carefully coordinating every detail to ensure her time away from the Emberheart estate would be as liberating as possible. The thought alone was enough to soothe the knot of anxiety in her chest-until she remembered the inevitable confrontation with her mother.

She's going to dissect every decision I've made, Irina mused, her shoulders tightening

at the thought. I can already hear her questioning the destination, the arrangements, and, of course, why I'm dragging Astron along.

The thought made her glance at him, his calm demeanor as steady as ever. He walked

beside her with the same quiet confidence that had become both infuriating and oddly

comforting.

Does he even care about the trip? she wondered, her fiery gaze narrowing slightly. Or is he just going along with it because he's got nothing better to do?

The silence between them stretched for a moment before Astron spoke again, his tone

casual. "You've put a lot of thought into this trip."

Irina blinked, caught off guard by his remark. "What makes you say that?" she asked,

her tone sharper than she intended.

Astron glanced at her, his sharp purple eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to

the path ahead. "The way you're walking," he said simply. "It's the same as when you're about to duel someone-focused, but bracing for a fight."

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. "Tch. Don't read too much into it,"

she muttered, though her thoughts betrayed her.

How does he always do that? she thought, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Just

one glance, and it's like he's peeled back every layer I've tried to keep hidden.

Still, his observation left a faint warmth in her chest-a small, reluctant acknowledgment that he was paying attention, even if she hated how easily he saw

through her.

As the main doors of the mansion loomed closer, Irina straightened her shoulders and

took a deep breath. 'Whatever......she can't say anything anyway.' The ship has already been sailed at the end.