The Eve of the Storm, and the Flowers' Prank
"Ah…!"
No way. I definitely had my qi sense spread out, didn't I? I've grown weaker, sure — but not so weak that I'd miss the sound of him coming home, right here inside the house.
What is this? No — more importantly, did he hear it? He must have heard, right? There's no other explanation for that look on his face.
Confronting that frost-hardened expression, I felt my knees turn to water. I remembered the position of submission he had pounded into me.
My eyes met Vincent's. He curled his lips into a sly, oily smile — not the Vincent who had eaten my stew, but the Vincent who had made me wail all night long.
"All done cleaning up, Adela."
Vincent said it with perfect composure, eyes fixed on me. Of course, the words weren't meant for me — they were an announcement to the three women that he had returned.
"Hey, what kind of cleanup takes this long?"
"Should've helped after all, huh?"
"Well, at least we got to hear about Vincent's childhood from Adela."
The three of them pivoted the conversation with remarkable speed, trying to paper over their scheming with teasing about Vincent's boyhood.
I have to keep my head. The only reason he wasn't pouncing on me this instant was the uninvited guests. As long as they stayed, I would survive the night.
"Come to think of it, we did leave our knight orders on standby and slip away for quite a while."
"Oh dear, what am I thinking. I should stand down the emergency muster for our paladins and priests as well."
"Same here — our mage battalion will be in a bind if we're gone much longer."
Each of them name-dropped the scale of the forces they'd placed on standby for Vincent, dressing up their devotion for display.
"Y-you are coming back, right?"
Please come back. If you don't, I'll be at Vincent's mercy — and believe me, that is not a fate you want to leave me to. Clutching at straws, I poured my desperation into the words, praying they would read between the lines.
"What, scared we'll come back in the middle of things again this time?" Duchess Estelle tossed out the joke with a lecherous grin.
"You must be tired. Please, feel free to rest a while before you go."
At my pleading expression, the duchess seemed to catch on to something. She called back Princess Emily and Saint Kiara, who had been rising from their seats.
"Let's rest a bit before we head out. This place is warped in spacetime anyway — napping a while won't make us late. We're all equally worn out from work, aren't we?"
Yes! That's the spirit! Well done, Duchess!
"But would it not be better to settle our business quickly and be on our way?"
"You think rushing our work buys us any rest? Besides, we've only just returned from slaying the Demon King — who's going to complain if we take a break?"
Seizing the hesitant princess by the shoulders, the duchess made for the bath with the saint in tow.
"And with that settled, we'll be borrowing your bath! You're welcome to follow us in if you like!"
With the guests all vanished into the bath, only Vincent and I were left in the parlor, and an awkward silence pooled between us.
"What's with you?"
Vincent asked me the reason.
Because, obviously — now that you've heard that story, I have no idea what you'll do to me.
But that was not something I could put into words for him.
"They're your guests. It'd be ungracious to just send them off."
"Adela."
His voice, quiet yet commanding the entire room, calling my name — my whole body flinched.
"Th-then maybe I'll go wash up too?"
Playing dumb, I fled that piercing gaze into the changing room.
I shut the door and slipped off the nightgown I'd thrown on, meaning to wash away the smells of cooking that clung to my body. Beneath it, my smooth bare skin emerged.
Only now did it occur to me: I had been standing in front of complete strangers wearing nothing but a nightgown. Ever since our first meeting, all I had shown anyone were sights no one should ever see — had I somehow grown accustomed to exposure along the way?
Get a grip. Just because Vincent has lost his mind doesn't mean I get swept up in it and throw common sense out the window too.
Thinking it, the prospect of following them into the bath and baring everything to those women again suddenly felt unbearable.
"M-maybe I'll just rinse off quickly?"
I had just steeled myself and started toward the bathroom door when Vincent's voice came from beyond the changing room.
"Adela, there's a guest room on the second floor. I'll have it ready for you."
"O-okay."
Vincent was acting strange. Strange to the point of docility. Remembering what I'd suffered yesterday for prodding at his temper, the fact that he wasn't moving to punish me on the spot made tomorrow night all the more terrifying.
It'll be fine… right?
Stepping into the bath at last, I found myself genuinely grateful for the steam that veiled my sight.
Duchess Estelle and Saint Kiara had apparently finished washing and lay sprawled boneless in the tub, while Princess Emily was sweating it out in the steam room.
"Welcooome~?"
Saint Kiara, her fatigue visibly melting away, greeted me with a slack, loosened face.
"Get in here — this bath is pretty nice~. Hurry up and wash, come on iiiin~."
Less melted than the saint, but Duchess Estelle, too, seemed to be soaking out the last of her weariness.
"I'm fine, thank you. I'll wash up quickly and go help Vincent prepare your beds."
"Reeally~? We'll leave it to you, then~."
"Sorryyy — we should be the ones helping youuu."
Their exhaustion must have run deeper than I'd guessed; they were so limp I wondered whether the faces they'd shown me had been masks all along.
I ducked into a shower stall, quickly scrubbed away the sweat and smells, and on my way out ran straight into Princess Emily emerging from the steam room.
"Perfect timing. I was just about to wash off."
I returned a light bow and moved to slip past her — and a hand darted out to seize my backside.
"Wh-what—?!"
Startled, I snatched the princess's wrist and stopped her cold.
The princess blinked, visibly taken aback by my catching her hand.
"So this is what being Vincent's master means. Quick reflexes."
"Wh… what is this? Why my—why my backside?"
I demanded, face to face with her — but the princess's eyes weren't on mine. They were roaming over my whole body.
No — what is wrong with her? Surely she isn't… that way too. She can't be.
I released her hand and edged back a step; the princess stared into her own empty grip, as if savoring the sensation left in her palm.
"You've clearly trained, and yet this soft… Unfair."
Did she just appraise my body?
"And I'd say it's not just that, hmm? These breasts! I mean—huh?"
At the presence closing in from behind, I twisted aside — and there stood Duchess Estelle, hugging empty air. The woman who should have been pressed into her arms, surrendering her chest to both hands, was standing calmly off to the side. Hence the astonishment on her face.
"Wow, that size and that bounce? That's just cheating."
Was she seriously just marveling at the size and sway of my breasts?
"And on top of that — a chest that big, and the rest of you this slim? That's not cheating, that's a foul."
I turned my head to find Saint Kiara, who had been sneaking up on me, raising both hands in surrender as she agreed.
Have these women lost their minds?
Warily backing away from all three, I watched the princess turn toward the stalls first.
"Where are you going, Emily? We can't catch her without you!"
"We couldn't catch her anyway. Judging by that move just now, she is not one to be caught willingly."
"Is that something you learn to read once you become a knight?"
I had nearly been seized and kneaded by three women. Fleeing the dizzying absurdity of it, I made for the exit — and found the saint blocking my way, still not fully in possession of her senses.
"To pass, you must give me a hug first!"
Hearing words fit for a street thug come out of that pure, guileless face, the gap between them made my head swim.
Sighing, I stepped in close; the saint reached out her arms to catch me. Pivoting on the ball of my foot, I spun out of her reach with a flash of footwork — then caught her in my arms as her own momentum toppled her.
"That was dangerous. Please stop fooling around in the bath."
"Ah…! Th-thank you!"
I set her down gently and turned to the duchess for leave.
"Would it be all right if I went out to help Vincent now?"
"Y-yes… go ahead."
Leaving behind the duchess, who answered as if dumbfounded, I stepped out of the bath.
"A-are you okay?"
"Yes, it's just… um."
"Hm? Are you hurt somewhere?"
"…It was so soft…."
Ah. When I caught the saint — did our chests touch?
"So! So! Soft!"
"What?! You… you noticed that, in that moment? Tell me everything!"
As they giggled and pressed for more detailed impressions, I hurriedly shut the door before I could hear anything else I didn't want to know.
Princess this, saint that, duchess whatever — watching them giggle and roughhouse, I realized they were just girls of their age after all. Vincent was their age too, which meant they were the ones who belonged at his side. A sigh escaped me at my own position, wedged in between.
First, get dressed, go out, and help Vincent with the guest room. With that thought, I turned my gaze to where I'd left the nightgown.
"Huh?"
Where the nightgown had lain, in its place was a translucent black negligee with slits up the sides, its ability to conserve warmth highly doubtful — settled neatly beside black lingerie that covered precisely none of what ought to be covered. And among the pieces, the panties… haah. A T-back. The kind, they say, that a wife wears to seduce her husband.
This was Vincent's handiwork, no doubt about it. Leaving this out for me to put on — it was a written notice: brace yourself tonight.
I almost laughed at myself for fretting over having worn only a nightgown earlier. I wanted that nightgown back. It had been soft and pleasant to the touch — and it had covered so much more of me.
Nothing for it. My own clothes were nowhere in sight; Vincent had probably hidden them by some means, or disposed of them outright. Not that I had the nerve to wander the house naked.
Fine. I'll wear it.
"Vincent — I will never, ever give in to your designs."