This Body, I Give Up
She pulled her dazed mind back together and hurried to speak.
"Let's just pretend none of this happened."
Then she grabbed the edge of the sheet and swung her feet out from under the covers.
"I'm leaving."
"W-wait—!"
Alpheir's hand seized her wrist in a panic, and it was trembling. Confusion, shock, and a tangle of feelings he couldn't even name filled his eyes. Why was this woman—who until mere moments ago had been holding him, their breath tangled together—suddenly turning her back?
"Is it... is it that you don't like me...?"
The tremor he was trying so hard to hide bled straight through his lowered voice. He looked at Seira with a pleading, piteous expression, his eyes gone wet.
We... we gave each other our bodies. Our hearts, too.
Even unspoken, that was what his gaze was saying.
Seira hesitated, looking at that face. That scorching embrace from just moments ago, when he'd held her so tightly even his hair was still damp. And the face she was trying to walk away from was so damn handsome it made the whole thing even more fucked.
So it's come to this. Leon Belgard, getting hit with a pretty-boy trap by some guy?
"...Nngh."
She clenched her teeth and hardened her expression again.
"I... have no interest in getting mixed up with a family like that."
She said it firmly, drawing a hard line for herself as much as for him.
Alpheir stared at her blankly, but Seira shook him off as if yanking her wrist free.
And yet the moment those words reached him, something in his eyes wavered. All the countless women who had smiled around him—ladies who spritzed perfume and stretched out their slender hands, waiting for him to take them. Seira was nothing like any of them. A woman who had come to him as simply one person, as herself—and the instant she heard his name, tried to turn her back and walk away.
Standing right where he was, Alpheir took Seira's hand again.
"Seira!"
"What now."
"Everyone, the moment they hear my name, tries to draw closer—so close it becomes a burden. But you, Seira, are trying to pull away."
He looked steadily into her eyes, and he meant every word. That sincerity only made his voice more desperate.
"But if my station is an obstacle to you... what if you simply took ownership of whatever you like? Everything I possess. All of it."
"So you're doing this because you think I like money..."
Seira snorted.
"It's rather embarrassing to admit, but our house holds the oldest fief in this kingdom, and we are wealthy in equal measure. For your sake, anything you might wish to have—"
"Stop."
Seira raised a palm and cut him off. Rather than being impressed by the inventory, she let out a disbelieving little laugh.
"Can't you hear me? Of course you can. But..."
She shook the hand he was still holding and spoke with force.
"It won't work. No matter how I look at it, taking all that means I'd have to become a duchess!"
That was when Alpheir cried out with conviction.
"That's because keeping you as a mistress would be... unthinkable!"
Seira recoiled in disgust. A mistress was already enough to make her skin crawl—and now this.
"Oh, and Young Master's parents think so too? You think they'd be thrilled if their son came home from a trip dragging in some woman they don't even know, announcing she's going to be a duchess?!"
"The duty of taking responsibility is something my parents have always taught me to put first. I am not unaware of your concerns, Seira, but if I explain thoroughly enough... no one will be able to object."
"Ha..."
Seira let out a hollow laugh and shook her head.
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Did you actually think that kind of sweet-talking would work on me? Maybe that's what happens when you've only ever seen the good side of life. I don't want some 'wow, social climbing, how exciting!' nonsense. I don't want that."
"...Then what is it that you want?"
She didn't answer Alpheir's question. She just pressed her lips together and turned her gaze slightly away. She didn't want to talk about her own story right now—not the one where something far too enormous had already happened.
The silence stretched. Then Alpheir bowed deeply at the waist once more and spoke.
"...Then, until your journey is over, at the very least... could I not accompany you?"
Seira clenched her teeth and looked down at him. There was none of the boldly demanding desire in his posture, none of the arrogance. Only desperate eyes and a quiet, unshakable resolve.
"I will serve you to the very best of my ability. I'll even be your attendant, if that's what it takes to leave you wanting for nothing... I will stay by your side."
At that, Seira raised an eyebrow.
"...And the person saying that to me right now is the son of one of this country's Five Great Ducal Houses? You think anyone would believe that? Is this even real?!"
"As long as you... believe in me, that is enough."
"Wow. Seriously... this is insane."
Faced with a conversation that was going to drive her out of her mind if it went on any longer, Seira shook off his hand and flopped back down onto the bed.
"...Until the journey's over. That's it. Absolutely nothing beyond that."
"Truly?"
"You heard me. Don't ask again."
Seira tossed it out while looking away, and Alpheir couldn't stop a smile from spreading at even that brief permission.
"Thank you, Seira. I will never give you cause to regret this."
Wait. Did I just set a wedding date or something...?
At his pure, intense reaction, Seira buried her face in the pillow so she wouldn't have to look at him anymore. But far from stopping, Alpheir—his face thoroughly flushed—went on.
"...Today is nothing short of a miracle to me."
"Haa..."
Still face-down on the bed, Seira let out a deep sigh. It was the first time she'd ever slept with anyone, and what had actually worn her out was the conversation afterward.
"God. I'm exhausted..."
She kicked the covers off in a messy heap and buried her face.
"...Seira?"
That was when Alpheir approached carefully from behind. In the dim light, apology and caution still showed on his face, but Seira didn't even turn around.
"If... if I could be of any help in easing your fatigue—"
"I'm fine. Don't talk to me."
"...If I were to massage your legs, perhaps—"
"I said I can't even hear you— nngh!"
His hands were already on her. Before Seira could properly swat him away, Alpheir's hands had carefully found her from shin to the back of her knee to her thigh—and they were moving with unexpected skill.
"...What the hell?!"
"The Academy curriculum includes rear-line medical training, so..."
The voice that reached her was gentle and serious, and his touch was steady. The sensation of his hands pressing into her heel and working their way up, then lightly tracing the muscles of her calf, felt better than she'd expected.
"Ah, shit..."
Seira muttered without even turning her head. Seeing that she wasn't kicking him off, Alpheir began to press slowly, firmly, with deliberate pressure. The warmth coming from his neat nails and thick finger joints was service given in earnest.
"...Keep going. But don't talk to me. It's annoying."
"Yes. Understood."
A man who would concentrate on every word she said, every fingertip—he closed his mouth and moved in silence. Seira closed her eyes and thought.
Ugh... what kind of duke's son is this.
As Alpheir's hands climbed slowly up Seira's calves, the warm body heat that had soaked into her skin lingered on his palms. The smooth muscles of her calves went slack and then tensed again in his hands, over and over, and each time Seira let out a small breath.
"...Oh. Right there. That's good."
Seira muttered it while still lying face-down, but to Alpheir's ears the words landed as clearly as ripples thrown across still water. The real danger, however, came around the time his hands reached her thighs.
This is a massage.
Alpheir used the silence to keep his mouth shut tight, repeating it to himself over and over. But a man who, mere hours ago, had still been a virgin could not remain as composed as a saint when faced with a woman so devastatingly alluring he'd already lain with her.
His fingers were already helplessly caught by her, feeling those elegant curves, and the subtle temptation between her inner thighs, in the cleft of her hips, was quietly burrowing into a man's senses. Even if the place he was massaging wasn't that place, her skin was hot and soft. Not sweat—body heat. The higher his hands climbed, the more his cock was responding.
...I can't. This isn't the proper respect for a refusal—
Realizing his trousers were quietly tenting forward, he squeezed his eyes shut, then cracked them open just a little to look down at her. Seira was still lying face-down with her arms as a pillow, silently catching her breath, so it was a tremendous relief that she hadn't noticed—but to Alpheir's eyes, the volume below the slight lift of her ass-line, beyond her thighs, came into far too sharp a focus.
He swallowed silently and continued his service for her. Whenever Alpheir wrapped his hands around her thighs near the glutes, he spread a gap with each movement. If he applied a little more pressure, the flesh would part just enough for a finger to slip between—enough to make what lay beneath utterly, shamelessly visible.
In the middle of the fierce battle he was waging over Seira's body, her thigh twitched in response.
Oh no... did she notice?
Tension raced through his entire body, cold sweat about to break, when Seira tossed out a single short remark.
"...You keep massaging the same spot."
She was still lying face-down, eyes closed. But somewhere in that tone, mixed in with the sulkiness, was a hint of ease. As if she already knew his secret.
At those words, Alpheir froze solid.