Confessions and a Dripping Betrayal
"Uh... but the soul is still Ariel's, right? I heard the potion swaps souls. Of course the body matters too, but... I like Ariel the person..."
Terria scratched his head with an embarrassed look after receiving the love confession. Clechia, watching that, seemed strangely excited. Ariel blushing like this was a fresh shock to her. And so she continued, her words speeding up like a squirrel munching on food.
"The young ladies from other families are all idiots. They say they like you no matter what you look like, that it's love, all flowery words, but the moment a guy gets hurt in battle—loses an arm or a leg—they toss him aside like a used rag. If he gets a scar on his face, they treat him like he's dead and go chasing after some other handsome guy. Even in arranged marriages for family politics, they don't share the same bedroom. I hate that stuff."
Is that how it is? Clechia loved me that much. I hadn't realized. Our engagement started as a matter of mutual benefit. I'd vaguely agreed thinking it'd help the Blue Tower financially and politically. So I'd only invested exactly that much effort—the bare minimum for the expected gains. If the profit was a thousand gold, I'd put in just enough work to earn a thousand gold. To keep our relationship going, I'd only spent the time it took to make that thousand gold.
Clechia was different. Her love was endlessly deep, beyond any monetary measure.
"Ariel's different. Always so curt and cold, totally self-centered, but when he's serious, he's deadly serious. He takes better care of his people than anyone. He never shows it on the outside, but he looks after you in all these little ways without you realizing. And when you thank him, he gruffly snaps, 'Don't get the wrong idea'—it's so cute. His looks might seem a bit chilly, but inside, he's endlessly kind. I don't like Ariel just because he's handsome. Not that he's ugly or anything..."
Clechia trailed off, then bowed her head deeply. Only then did she seem to grasp what she'd just said. It was a love confession like no other. Cain chuckled as if he'd witnessed something unseemly.
But I couldn't laugh. Was I... really like that? I see. So that's who I was.
Clechia had observed me so deeply, even parts I didn't know myself. There wasn't a speck of falsehood in her words or expression. It was pure, unadulterated truth—like a vast sky filled to the brim.
Hearing that, anyone would make a vow. I'll treat her right. I'm going back now. Everything's ready. When I get back, I'll make it up to her. Do all the things I couldn't before. Go wherever she wants, try everything she desires. Today, our bodies swap back. I'll sing the songs she wanted to hear, give her the lap pillow she dreamed of. Don't just sit there—make myself feel love for her. And someday, I'll tell her. When those feelings finally bloom in my heart, I'll say, 'Remember that time? I'm sorry, I was wrong.' No real need to confess it, but it feels necessary. Isn't that the bare minimum courtesy to her heart?
But Terria muttered with a sneer that felt like mockery.
'Says she loves you so much, but can't even see your true inner self.'
It was a whisper so faint no one else could hear, but with my fox ears ten times sharper, I caught it crystal clear. I stared at him in shock. He was looking right back. That sneer was aimed at me. It was meant for me. He'd muttered it just loud enough for only me to hear.
It meant: Don't get moved by her words. Don't delude yourself that she loves you even now. Don't think she'll love you like this. Love that can't see your inner self is only worth that much.
But I couldn't say a word. My mind was chaos. Was her love really that shallow? Or was his acting just that perfect? I couldn't tell.
And then Terria said, meaningfully,
"Even if I became a woman?"
My stomach twisted, my throat burned. What was he getting at? My heart skipped—thud—plunging with a possibility I didn't want to imagine.
"Huh? A woman... never thought about it... Isn't that too extreme?"
"But it's not impossible, right?"
Exactly. Everyone knew it wasn't impossible anymore. But no one suspected it had already happened.
Clechia pondered seriously before answering.
"Ugh, fine. If Ariel became a woman, I'd turn lesbian for you. That work?"
"Pfft, kidding."
Clechia's sincerity ran that deep—she'd change her sexual orientation. I stared at her, dazed.
"Ahem."
Cain cleared the air. Then another voice chimed in.
"Your ordered white wine."
A waiter in a purple vest brought the wine, faintly glowing pale green. As he set the bottle down, he scanned the group—not casually, but deliberately checking faces. Probably the one Dekir had asked for. I watched his hands closely as he poured.
Cain eyed his glass for a moment before speaking.
"Tomorrow morning's the conference closing ceremony, right?"
"Yes," Terria replied curtly.
"Ariel, you'll head straight back after?"
"Yeah. No other plans."
"Straight home, then?" Clechia fiddled with her glass as she asked. The waiter circled the table, pouring into each one.
"No, to the lab. Gotta prep the next research project."
"Sheesh, three years of work—you could take a break sometimes..."
Cain shifted topics, as if remembering something.
"Oh, yeah—heard the Imperial Magic Department’s announcing this year's research funding soon."
"Hmm. Wonder how they'll divvy it up this time. What do you think, Cain?"
"Same as always—most to elemental magic, right? Alchemy's the trend, but those imperial mages still worship elemental spells."
"Figures. Place full of outdated old fogeys."
Terria said it smoothly. He even knew imperial politics. His prep must've been thorough. I was purely impressed.
The waiter finished pouring all but Terria's glass.
"I'm an elemental major, though..." Clechia muttered.
"Alchemy's always second. No way to bump up the funding?"
True. Despite alchemy's recent breakthroughs—mostly thanks to me—elemental magic hogged most funds. After this project, I'd submit a proposal to the Imperial Magic Department to increase ours. If I get back. If.
I barely followed the talk, just registering the voices. Heart on thin ice, I had no room for anything else.
As we chatted politics, the waiter finished pouring, bowed slightly, and slipped away. I side-eyed his back. I didn't miss the split-second gap. His arm had trembled faintly. Not a tremor—not nerves. That subtle shake screamed tension from mission accomplished. Why else would he be nervous?
Now, just drink.
And Cain raised his glass.
"Shall we toast?"
Stomach in knots but face blank, I extended my arm. The act was flawless. I'd gotten good at this. Acting casual like nothing was wrong wasn't hard. No—even if it was, I had to. It was just drinking. A motion I'd done a million times. I could do it blindfolded. No room for failure.
But the glasses clinking in the center: three. Only three.
Why?
I whipped my eyes around—and Terria stood.
Our gazes met, but he dropped his fast, too quick to match. Still, in that instant, I saw his smile. That smile. The lowly smirk he wore when getting his dick sucked.
"Clechia."
"Yeah?"
"I asked earlier—what if I became a woman?"
"Uh... yeah. Why?"
Oh. No. Stay calm. No way he knew. Not from what we'd seen so far. Unless some variable I didn't know...
At the round table, Terria sat to my left. He walked slowly toward Clechia. She and Cain watched, puzzled. Now behind me, out of sight.
But time passed—no sign of him on my right where he should be. My heart hammered at its limit. Cold sweat poured down my back. Unseen, my raised arm shook; the glass lowered to the table.
—Drip, drip, drip.
A cold, sweetly cloying liquid poured from my head. Soaking my transparent-to-others ears, threading through my hair. Golden strands glistened wet. Wine trailed down my cheek, neck, staining my white shirt. Drops fell from hair ends: plip, plip to the floor.
Clechia and Cain shot Terria questioning looks at his antics. He answered their confusion kindly.
Like a killer explaining to his victim why he was killing them. And anyone hearing it would have no choice but to understand.
"I almost became a woman."