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Hinoka had always believed her older brother was the tallest, most overprotective man to walk the earth—and then she’d met Xander. As it turned out, Ryoma was actually a bit on the short side. Comparatively-speaking, of course. She wasn’t sure what to blame her mistaken belief on; perhaps there were many excuses to be made, including that spark of childish idealism and idolization that had been difficult to fling away from her in her adult years. Ryoma would always be her beloved older brother, after all, even if he wasn’t quite as dashing or extraordinary as her younger self imagined him to be. The folly of youth, Yukimura would say on the subject if his opinion was asked; he had always sounded like a man of eighty, even in his youth, and the memories the thought stirred up made her smile.
Her expression shifted into something less satisfied as she took Xander’s arm. This was a Nohrian ball and he was her escort as always, but the vast difference in their height made them look, she feared, silly. Or worse, it made her appear helpless and small by his side, something not helped by the severe expression he wore—his mouth downturned as if to warn away any potential dance partners before they could think to approach. It really wasn’t necessary. She was perfectly capable of refusing them, herself, on the grounds that being so heavily pregnant made dancing uncomfortable. She didn’t need his help, not with this.
But it made him feel useful to be able to do something to combat her aching, swollen feet, so she would allow him this one display of what she assumed was masculine protectiveness. She would have never given Ryoma the satisfaction of protecting her in even such a small way, though she wasn’t sure he would ever dare to try; that honor, if it could even be called as such, would only ever belong to her husband…and even then just once—and only because he fretted so about the smallest details.