4.5. Epilogue
My head, burning hot with lust from that wholesome feedback, finally started to cool down. Only then did I take in my surroundings. Where the hell I was right now. Who I'd just ravaged. How utterly insane my actions had been…
Of course, I didn't think Opheli de Quiliar would hold this against me. She enjoyed it too, after all. But the problem wasn't with Opheli.
"Th-that thing was there…"
If anyone saw us, we'd be in deep shit. I'd been so fixated on Opheli that I hadn't felt any tension about the location—but this was the Intelligence Chief's mansion. And I'd just fucked his daughter like she was a goddamn onahole. His sheltered only daughter, who's never even had a fiancé.
If this gets out, I'm dead.
The Imperial Intelligence Bureau protects the imperial family, and they only kill those who pose a threat to it… but could that really be interpreted as letting slide someone who fucked the Chief's daughter? They might come up with some excuse to off me anyway.
"The towel's… th-there…"
"I see it."
With Opheli unable to stand on her trembling legs, I took over the cleanup. I slid the book full of her illustrations back onto the shelf, grabbed a towel, and wiped down her messy body.
…Or she could wipe herself down, right? But since she didn't know how to handle basic tasks, I did it gently for her.
"Lady Quiliar."
"Y-yes?"
"Do you know any cleaning spells? Like for washing your body, or general tidying."
"Th-that's too complicated… I d-don't really know how people move yet…"
"…"
Wasn't that kinda useless?
"B-but I can do this…!"
Seeing my disappointment, she hurriedly waved her hands. Her fingers moved like she was conducting multiple orchestras at once, and a strange energy whooshed through the air.
"…Oh."
Once I realized it was a fragrance, it felt pretty novel. Refreshing, I guess? Like fresh air from a pristine countryside. Mixed with a hint of breast milk, it kinda reminded me of a dairy farm. Not bad, just… distinctive.
"Th-this covers the smell, right…?"
"Yeah, sure…"
It was useful enough. Even in my old world, people sprayed perfume to mask filth. A spell like this would come in handy before entering a stinky place. Come to think of it, I'd never considered learning magic. I hated studying, so I went for swordsmanship at the Imperial Academy.
"Could I use a spell like that too?"
"…You, Adrian? Why?"
"Seems handy."
"Hmm… Y-you're too old to learn m-magic…"
"……"
"B-but you know how to use mana, right…?"
"…Yeah."
"S-so, you can't start with spells, but you can probably use it…"
"…How?"
"J-just wish really hard for the magic…"
"……"
"Like this—hyap! Hyap…!"
What was the difference between that and praying to a god? She wasn't even bragging about being a grand mage's daughter or a genius. I just sighed deeply, figuring another genius was toying with me.
Before she could tease more, I used the towels in both hands to wipe the spots on Opheli's body I'd missed.
…Now that I think about it, that's weird.
Not a drop of my fluids anywhere on her body. She'd swallowed every bit with her mouth and her pussy. So the mess around was just her juices and milk… which sparked my curiosity.
"Is your breast milk always like this?"
"…Y-yeah. It's my… constitution…"
A constitution where milk just drips out even when you're still? Must be a pain if it soaks your clothes.
"S-so… I stick these p-pads on my nipples…?"
As if answering, she pulled stickers from inside her dress. They looked like blank talismans. If magic sealed them, they weren't far off from actual charms.
"O-otherwise it just keeps leaking…"
I pressed her nipple lightly with a finger, and milk dribbled out. I hadn't asked just to see that. As I went to wipe it with the towel—
Knock knock.
The sudden knock made me jump. I turned, thinking it was my imagination, but it came again. No denying it.
"Wh-what do we do…?"
"Get dressed first."
Aside from pulling my pants down a bit during sex, I hadn't undressed, so I was already tidy. No one would suspect if I left like this. I handed Opheli the towel and cracked the door open.
"…What is it?"
"I'm looking for the young lady."
A maid with an emotionless face stared at me. Her eyes made me think she might slit my throat on the spot, so I instinctively stepped back a bit. Glancing over, Opheli was still half-dressed.
"…She fell asleep reading."
"I see."
"Yes."
She didn't pry further. Her gaze didn't even scan the room. Did she trust me?
"Then please let her know it's time for dinner. The guest should join too."
"…Yes."
Was I overthinking? It seemed to pass smoothly. But as I stayed tense, the maid—who'd started to turn—paused.
Sniff sniff.
She took a few deep sniffs, then stared right at me.
"You use a unique perfume."
"Pardon?"
…Perfume? What the fuck was she talking about?
Did she notice?
"Nothing."
The maid walked away without answering. I wanted to chase her and ask, but it felt pointless. I closed the door and returned.
"Ugh… Wh-what happened…?"
Seeing Opheli finally pulling up her dress, I could only sigh. I was just grateful the maid hadn't come in.
…Wait, how did she even know Opheli was here?
Maybe that's why she didn't enter. But what was the perfume bit? From Opheli? Milk scent? Nah, she wouldn't cast a diffuser spell if that was it. And Opheli didn't smell that distinct before. Maybe it wasn't about smell at all. Capital nobles love euphemisms—maybe it was code for "Did you fuck the master well?" Maids in a duke's house might be from lesser noble lines themselves.
If so, wouldn't she have killed me on the spot?
She could've executed me before dinner without issue. The fact she invited me was a blessing.
* * *
Before I knew it, I was at the dinner table. I barely remembered helping Opheli dress and coming down—too freaked out wondering if anyone knew what we'd done.
By the time I snapped out of it, time had passed. I'd descended drenched in cold sweat just moments ago. Now I sat like a condemned criminal, head bowed.
Anyone in my spot would react the same. Across from me was the lady I'd just deflowered. And right beside her, at the head of the table, sat the mansion's master—the Imperial Intelligence Chief and her father, Duke Quiliar.
"……."
…His piercing glare had me ducking my head on instinct.
The Intelligence Chief was top five in the empire by rank alone. Excluding the imperial family, he was basically the most powerful man alive. With him glaring like he wanted to kill me, I felt my lifespan draining in real time. Was he planning to choke me out instead of using a blade?
"You look familiar."
"…Do I?"
His scrutinizing gaze sharpened as he furrowed his brow. I suppressed the urge to look away, and he responded from there.
"Ah, you graduated from the Academy, right? Top of your class. Yeah, now I remember."
"Yes."
"Kicking that knight commander friend's offer to the curb—how satisfying that was. Who knew our paths would cross like this."
"……."
Nobles seemed to remember me only as "that crazy bastard who rejected the knight commander's offer." Better than as a yaseol author, I suppose.
"So, how'd you meet my daughter?"
"……."
Whatever about yaseol authors, it felt like a knife to my throat. I clamped my mouth shut. What the hell could I say? "Your daughter’s my biggest fan, sent me illustrations by letter, so I came running"? I'd be dead before I finished.
Truth was, Opheli dragged me here—no other reason.
"D-Daddy…"
Opheli spoke up, seeing my distress.
"I-I have a friend from the salon… Kiara… She t-told me about this guy. I wanted to get to know him…"
…Her words didn't help at all. I wished she'd just shut up, but—
"Oh, really?"
Strangely, he seemed to believe his daughter unquestioningly. One and only child, maybe.
"Something must've happened between you two."
"…Yes."
More like he knew she had zero eloquence. He wasn't expecting airtight logic, so he trusted her and rolled with it.
"A-and he likes my drawings…"
"…That's true."
"Drawings, huh…"
His suspicious glare didn't fully lift. Still worried I'd do something to her? I decided to chime in for the stuttering Opheli.
"…Actually, the lady you know from the salon is my fiancée."
I didn't elaborate much. I had a commitment. So I wouldn't mess around with your daughter.
…Even though I'd done plenty just hours ago.
"You didn't come with impure intentions, I hope."
"…Of course not."
He said it without softening his killing intent, making me feel diced up.
"Still… leaving a pure maiden alone with you too long might stir rumors."
"…Haha."
Your daughter's not a maiden anymore.
"Got a place to stay tonight?"
"…I'd contact my fiancée, or if not, an inn."
"Can't treat a guest like that. Stay in the guest room tonight."
"Thank you."
Felt like a night in jail, but better than dying.
"I'll contact your fiancée's family separately. Take their carriage when it arrives."
…I should be grateful, but why did it sound like "Get the hell out at dawn"?
Probably all paranoia…
Today, more than ever, I missed Kiara de Montr.