Arthur didn’t even have time to take off his jacket.
As soon as he stepped through the workshop door, Tessa raised her head and her gaze pinned him in place.
She said nothing in front of Brandt and Ysolde.
She simply watched him while he muttered something about the delivery and tried to reach the stairs with the excuse of needing to put his things away.
He didn’t make it.
“Arthur.”
Tessa’s voice was low, but firm enough to stop him halfway up the steps.
He turned slowly.
She was already on her feet, and with a nod of her head she indicated for him to follow her toward the small storage room at the back, away from their parents’ ears.
Arthur obeyed.
He had no other choice.
He closed the door behind him and found himself in that narrow space full of crates and old tools.
Tessa stood in front of him, arms crossed, her gaze locked on his.
“Enough,” she said without preamble.
Arthur lowered his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” Tessa’s voice stayed low, but every word was precise.
“This morning you ran away.
You left a note and disappeared before anyone could see you properly.
You came back hours later with the face of someone who’s spent the morning avoiding something.
Or someone.”
“I had a delivery.”
“Don’t lie.” Tessa took a step forward.
“There was no urgent delivery.
Dad knew nothing about it.
You made up an excuse so you wouldn’t have to sit at breakfast.
So you wouldn’t have to be near me.”
Arthur felt his heart speed up.
The fabric of the wide shirts clung to his sweaty chest, and he had the distinct feeling that, in that closed space, the sweet scent was too present.
“It’s my business,” he said quietly.
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“Yes, it does.” Tessa shook her head.
“For weeks you’ve been strange.
You barely talk.
You avoid contact.
You dress differently.
You smell sweet in a way that isn’t normal.
And now you’re even running out of the house at dawn.
I’m not stupid, Arthur.”
He remained silent.
Every excuse that came to mind sounded false even to his own ears.
“Are you sick?
Did someone do something to you?
Are you hiding a serious problem?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
Arthur clenched his fists at his sides.
He felt the familiar tingling along his back, the signal that stress was feeding the curse again.
He needed to end this conversation.
He needed to get out of that room before his body betrayed him even more.
“It’s complicated,” he said at last.
“And I can’t explain it.
Not now.”
Tessa stared at him for a long time.
For a moment she seemed about to push further, then her gaze dropped briefly along his body, to the way he held his arms, to the jacket buttoned despite the heat.
“You’re hiding your body too,” she said suddenly.
“Not just your behavior.
You cover up.
You’re careful about how you move.
Like you’re afraid someone will look at you too closely.”
Arthur felt his blood run cold.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop it.” Tessa’s voice cracked slightly, caught between anger and worry.
“I’m your sister.
I’ve known you forever.
And now it almost seems like you’re becoming… different.
I don’t know how to explain it.
But I can see it.
And it scares me.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Arthur wanted to say something.
He wanted to find a better lie, any explanation.
But the words wouldn’t come.
His body felt heavy, his skin too sensitive, the scent too strong in the closed space.
And Tessa’s gaze was too direct to let him slip away the way he had until now.
“I can’t tell you,” he managed at last, his voice low and rough.
“Not because I don’t trust you.
But because… I can’t.
Not yet.”
Then she let out a slow, frustrated breath.
“Then at least stop pretending it’s nothing.
Because it isn’t.
And the more you keep isolating yourself and lying, the more obvious it becomes that you’re drowning in something.”
She ran a hand through her hair, visibly tense.
“I won’t say anything to Mom and Dad.
Not yet.
But I can’t keep watching you shut yourself away like this.
Sooner or later you’re going to have to talk.
To me or to someone else.”
She opened the storage room door and paused on the threshold.
“And Arthur.”
He raised his eyes.
“If you’re really in trouble… don’t wait until you collapse before asking for help.”
She left.
Arthur remained standing in the small room, his breathing short, his hands trembling slightly.
Only when he was sure he was alone did he lean against the wall and open the Status.
[Name: Arthur
Age: 18
Level: 1
Class: Apprentice Blacksmith (Weak)
Strength: 4
Agility: 6
Endurance: 5
Magic: 3
Intelligence: 12
Dexterity: 8
Skills:
– Basic Sharpening (Lv.2)
– Tool Organization (Lv.3)
– Excessive Shyness (Passive)
[Curse: Gender Transformation – Blood of Lysara]
Phase: 1/4
Progress: 78%]
Three more points.
He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes.
Tessa didn’t know the truth.
But she had gotten far too close.
And now Arthur had the cold certainty that the time for continuing to pretend was about to run out.
He still didn’t know what he was going to do.
He only knew that at the next question, or the next look that was too attentive, something might give way.