Uriel Wayne Dana Alfred
Uriel watched Ferzen for a moment as he spoke with the physician, then lowered her head and took stock of her own body.
"…"
The fever had broken. The headache was gone. All that remained was a faint ache through her limbs, and the tenderness in her breasts that came with her monthly bleeding. Whatever unfamiliar thing she felt between her legs was like cloth. She had been changed into fresh clothes.
She remembered, before she lost consciousness, telling them to clear everything away… but had the room even been properly aired? She was certain it had been sealed shut. Her body-scent would have hung thick through the whole of it. How far had Ferzen put his hands on her? How much of her had he looked at?
Why the scarf…
Fumbling, Uriel tried to loosen the scarf bound stiflingly around her neck. But when Ferzen finished with the physician and came toward her, she let her hands fall and looked up at him without a word.
"Uriel."
"…"
"You have nowhere to stay."
"I was only working late… preparing for final exams."
"There were signs of someone living in your office. And no carriage in the yard."
At what was an interrogation in all but name, Uriel answered curtly.
"So what do you want me to do about it? Why do you even care?"
"I thought that old monster Coleone had handed down a truly childish punishment."
"Stay out of it…"
She climbed down from the sickbed, swaying as she caught her balance.
"Uriel."
"I haven't pointed this out lately. Don't call me by my name as if we're close."
"Professor Uriel."
"And why is that, Professor Ferzen."
"I have something to say to you. So make a little time."
"You can say it here."
"If it were that sort of matter, I would have. Do you not think at all?"
"Just go home. You must be tired from night duty."
She turned her head aside, as if she wanted no more private words between them.
Ferzen caught her by the wrist and forced her out of the sickroom.
"Ah—that hurts…! Let go!"
"Don't play at being hurt. I didn't even grip you hard."
"You think my body's built like yours!"
More strength had gone into the hold than he seemed to realize. Uriel sniffled, tears welling, and seized his forearm, but he did not so much as shift.
"At least—walk a little slower…! My chest hurts!"
His long strides set her breasts swaying, heavy and indecent. Each jolt sent the ache of that swelling through her, and with her free hand she slapped him hard across the back.
Only then did Ferzen gradually slow his pace.
The place they came to, at the end of it…
The carriage yard behind the main building.
"Get in."
"Ha…"
A carriage stood there, the crest of Brutein worked into its side. At the jerk of his chin telling her to climb in, Uriel let out a hollow laugh.
"Where are you trying to take me. To your mansion? Even if I have nowhere to stay right now, I don't want to live there. Don't do something pointless."
"I never once said it was my mansion."
"Then just say what you mean. What on earth do you want? Why are you suddenly like this with me? I look thrown out, so some sympathy you never had comes surging up? If that were it, you should have done it at the banquet. If you'd lavished all that sympathy on me then, I would have taken it gladly."
"…If you don't want to, suit yourself."
He left her standing there and climbed into the carriage.
"I'll give you thirty seconds."
With the door left open, he glanced toward the clock tower.
"…"
The urging that was not quite an urging left her speechless. But by now she wanted to know what he meant to say, and when some fifteen seconds had passed she stepped forward of her own accord, climbed in, and sat.
"You do have a remarkable talent for making a simple matter exhausting."
"Don't be snide."
The door shut. Ferzen signaled the driver to depart.
The rain had let up for a while, but it looked ready to fall again before long. Beyond the window the long rains seemed all but certain. Uriel gazed at that view a moment, then opened the window so her scent would not pool, and looked at him.
"Now… speak."
"Gerard Ren Milrain Asran."
"…"
"He told me he wished to treat me to a meal and offer his thanks. But no matter how I turn it over, I have never done anything that would help Count Asran's house. Which means something I did worked to their advantage without my intending it… that must be the sense of it."
Gerard had a looser tongue than he had thought.
"Most likely… no. You were surely ordered by that old monster Coleone to marry the son of Count Asran's house."
She had little reason to deny it, so Uriel nodded.
"And… so what. It has nothing whatsoever to do with you."
"Why do you think it has nothing to do with me."
"Feeling guilty now, are you, that because of you I'm being pushed into a political marriage I don't want? Really… that's funny."
"If I were the sort to feel guilty over that, then as you said, I would have let it pass quietly at the banquet without letting the matter grow."
"I have no intention of… solving riddles with you."
At her demand that he come to the point, Ferzen paused a moment, then answered in a low voice.
"I intend to replace the head of the North."
"…"
"So it would be troublesome if power gathered behind Count Asran's house."
"Ha…"
The moment she heard it, Uriel pressed a hand to her brow and covered her eyes.
"Ahaha…"
And then a hollow laugh broke from her, threaded with something desolate.
"To sum it up… you're telling me to marry into the northern house you're backing?"
"Uriel."
"Don't make me laugh. I'm not such a whore that I have to be sold around however you please. I'm not! I'm sick of it! In your eyes, am I not a person named Uriel at all—just a womb that can be stuffed with seed and spit out a child?"
"The new head of the North will be me."
"Piss off…"
"…"
"What kind of filthy trick is this, now of all times? If you were going to do this, you should have left that day ten years ago alone. So Brutein can even scoop up water it's spilled. Impressive."
"It can be scooped up."
Even at her sneer, Ferzen remained unperturbed.
"If it could not, would I have bothered telling you?"
"…"
"That old monster Coleone will not be able to refuse. He covets the direct blood of Brutein that flows in my body. You know that as well."
"I… will refuse."
"Then, and now. Your will will not matter."
"…"
"Uriel. Do you know this? Every object, before it is made, already names the merchant who is to hold it. In that sense, was a being such as you not meant for me from the very start? I knew it, if only dimly."
"Don't… treat me like an object. I…!"
"Cattle are living creatures too. They are still the property of the man who owns the pasture."
"…"
"If it had only been a matter of putting a sword in the hand of a farmer who had never done more than till his fields, I would not have cared. He would not have been able to use it properly. No… even if it passed into a knight's hands, it would have been fine, so long as those people were not ones who would stand against me. But that is not the case, is it? Better to reclaim a sword I discarded than watch it taken up in an enemy's hand."
Eyes glowing red, he met her gaze squarely and went on.
"Uriel. Whatever you do, there will be nothing you can twist. You may take this as notice. So resign yourself."
"Filth… don't you remember what you spat out that day, ten years ago? In exchange for the political profit you hand him, Grandfather will want descendants with your blood mixed in. Looking at a daughter of House Alfred you loathed that much, can you even get your cock up?"
"…"
"What? You don't like vulgar words? Then I'll give you more. No—I will give you more. Can you put your cock in my cunt? Can you fill my womb full of your semen? Can you bring a child of mingled Alfred and Brutein blood into this world?"
His fist clenched, and veins bulged and throbbed along it. Every crude word of hers grated. In truth, everything she spoke of felt faintly revolting.
But if he had been the original Ferzen, he would never have made such a choice at the banquet—no. He would not have attended in the first place.
Yes. The one here was Ferzen, and yet he was not.
"Ten years ago. I apologize for the insult I dealt you."
The carriage creaked to a halt.
Beyond the window stood a modest little house.
The door banged open, and Ferzen stepped down. Uriel followed after him.
The lock clicked. He opened the door with a key and went in. She followed in the same way.
"…It wasn't some apology I wanted to hear."
"Stay here for the time being. Settling the matter will not take long."
"Answer the question I asked you."
"I will give you money as well. If there is something you wish to buy, buy whatever you like."
Bundles of gold coins piled onto the bed.
"Ferzen… von Schweik Brutein."
But Uriel called his full name, quietly. And then, right where she stood, she let the clothes she wore fall.
She turned her mana to water and wiped away the bloodstain between her legs. Stark and beautiful in her nakedness, she walked toward him, step by deliberate step.
"If you can't lust after me… if you don't even have the resolve to take me. Don't play the villain on some half-baked resolve. Don't try to turn me over… as easily as turning your palm. Look properly! Look straight! This is the body of the daughter of House Alfred that you would have to hold."
"…"
"You bastard… how do you mean to take me as a concubine when you can't even look at me properly? Don't make me laugh… just how light and worthless must I look to you… Fine. You say you're reclaiming a thing you threw away. Then you ought to be able to use that thing, shouldn't you. When you can't even get your cock up after smelling my body-scent, warped as it is by the fragrance fruit…"
Watching her hang her head, Ferzen let out a heavy sigh, drew close, and undid the scarf at her throat. Then he led her slowly to the mirror, and from behind he caught her chin and lifted it.
"Do you see."
"…"
"Proof that I lusted after you."
"Ah…"
"I can see you as a woman. More than enough."
"Get out…"
Uriel reached behind her and shoved him away.
"The room is small. Air it out. Or buy perfume."
"I told you to get out…"
"I will look in now and then. See that you recover properly."
As she had asked, Ferzen opened the door and stepped out.
Uriel sat on the bed and quietly looked around. The room was bleak.
"…"
Rain was beginning to fall again; she could hear it.
The bed creaked as she lay down upon it.
I won't listen to you.
She left the window shut and traced a hand along her neck. It was an ironic contradiction—to declare she would not listen to Ferzen, and yet not leave the house. She had the money now. There were places she could go. Frankly, she could even return to her office.
But that single line of his, that he would look in now and then, held her here.
Beyond the window, a flower was soaking through in the rain. The fragrance of hers that slowly filled the room did not soak.
Yes. A flower may be drenched.
A fragrance is not.