Before Becoming a Professor
“……”
Raising his head for a moment to gaze leisurely at the clear sky, where he didn't need to worry about symmetry, Ferzen picked up the documents he'd tossed aside and lowered his eyes again.
In truth, it wasn't strange that the Alfred family had a bad history with the Brutein family from the start. If anything, the core plot point was probably the setting that the Alfreds bore a grudge against the Bruteins. It had seemed too blatant no matter how he thought about it.
'Uriel Wayne Daina Alfred……'
The second daughter of the Alfred family. The memories associated with her were……
'Not as bad as I thought.'
Etched into Ferzen's mind was that he'd merely made her realize her place at the engagement banquet orchestrated by the Alfreds.
The Alfred family. Their influence could rival the Bruteins', but compared to Brutein, their foundations were fundamentally different. Or rather than foundations…… perhaps it was the difference in what they'd grown from as fertilizer?
The Alfreds had expanded their power without regard for means or methods. If Brutein was a statue forged from pure gold, Alfred was a cheaply plated one atop filth. Yes, at least the honor they preached rang hollow as trash before Brutein.
To put it more mildly…… it was like a crying girl stopping her tears at the sight of a bandit, versus stopping at the sight of a prince.
No wonder the greatest flattery for the Alfreds was to compare them to Brutein.
Thus, the reclusive elders of the Alfred family thirsted for honor more than anyone.
Spotting a flaw in Ferzen—who had never appeared in private gatherings—they'd subtly arranged an engagement with their second daughter, Uriel.
Naturally, the Brutein elders and Ferzen's parents had spectacularly ruined the engagement there, and Ferzen himself, at a separate table, had turned his back on Uriel after saying……
──Do you think sewage flowing into the sea makes you the sea too?
Ferzen had known the engagement would fall apart, but Uriel hadn't. So despite it being their first meeting, she'd clung to him annoyingly, showing excessive favor.
After the incident with Jeremiah, Ferzen always maintained a set distance from people, yet Uriel kept trying to breach it—so from his perspective, he'd exercised considerable patience.
'Compared to Lizzy…… it's not that bad, so maybe it was flagged at the top just because it's the Alfred family.'
Puzzled, he glanced at the bottom paragraph, which mentioned that the eldest son of the Claudia family might marry the eldest daughter of the Alfreds. It noted the source was unreliable, so veracity was unknown……
'So, the possibility exists that the Alfreds are backing the Claudias.'
Reading that far, Ferzen stood up.
A tangled thread…… no, not even a thread. How to ensure these didn't become stepping stones for Ciel Midford?
Pelting himself with unanswerable questions, he returned to his room.
“You could've eaten first; I wouldn't have minded.”
“You say that, but……”
Seeing Euphemia sitting somewhat listlessly, waiting without touching the prepared breakfast, the corner of his mouth curved faintly upward.
“Eat.”
As he reached for knife and fork, he noticed Euphemia taking up her spoon and switched to his other hand, scooping a spoonful of soup.
'What a weary body.'
OCD. He wanted to cure it somehow, but even in the 21st century, mental illnesses were deemed incurable. There were palliative drugs, but he didn't know a single ingredient—Lee Seojin hadn't suffered from them.
The desperate measures Ferzen had taken over 24 years were already exhausted; he couldn't find a new direction.
Intentionally impairing his vision with glasses, blurring focus at a fixed distance when facing people. The effort to write with perfect bilateral symmetry, to dress impeccably without disorder. If he clumsily expanded the barriers Ferzen had built through such struggles, things would only worsen.
“Um…… when are we heading back to Ruerg?”
“Oh? Didn't I mention?”
Realizing he hadn't informed Euphemia, he detailed his future plans.
“To the capital…… you're taking me?”
He had no intention of leaving her cooped up in Ruerg, so he nodded without reply. The mansion bought in the Brutein name would suffice for living. He thought it best to bring older maids if possible—ones near her age might foster undue closeness.
In the midst of constant environmental changes, she'd feel alienated, and with loneliness mounting, the optimal scenario was having only him to rely on.
'Come to think of it, the mansion was quite large.'
Living alone in the capital with few familiar faces and scant maids, wouldn't she greet his returning figure more warmly?
He couldn't act on the Alfreds or Claudias yet, but Euphemia was in his grasp—she mustn't become a variable.
“We'll depart in three days.”
Those rejecting the professorship offer were to visit the Academy by March 3rd; timing-wise, three days fit perfectly.
“Everything I hear from you is just…… notifications.”
“If you have a reasonable compromise, speak it. I won't hear talk of returning to Ruerg months later.”
“Do you negotiate like that?”
“What the dominant and submissive discuss isn't negotiation.”
“If you just want to sate your lust, you don't need me around…… Is it because taking any woman would tarnish the Brutein name?”
Euphemia pouted mockingly, but her voice grew softer. She could clearly foresee his rebuttal, making her lips numb in dread.
“From last night, it seems I've been the one sating your lust.”
“The food's getting cold……”
“You have no talent for deflection.”
Saying nothing, Euphemia began devouring her breakfast roughly, as if venting frustration.
“Mind your table manners……”
Swallowing the reflexive slur that nearly escaped, he silently filled his stomach.
* * * * *
“……”
To pass the idle time, Euphemia sat on the bed reading a book, then rubbed her dimming eyes and glanced out the window.
Forcing herself through text that barely registered was torture, but sitting blankly like a corpse was worse.
“Euphemia.”
“What……”
A low, resonant baritone. Turning, she saw Ferzen at the desk, holding out a sheet of paper.
“……”
Come get it?
How far could it be? He could've stood and handed it over.
Despite her grumpy thoughts, she rose from the bed and took the paper with both hands.
“Solve all three problems, and I'll grant a request. You seem bored anyway—this should spark some motivation.”
“To Ruerg……”
“If you want, I'll send you.”
“What?”
Startled by Ferzen's words, Euphemia nonetheless suspected he'd set unsolvable problems, so she examined the paper without expectation.
─────
1. Find the condition under which both of the following hold:
「 6+8 = 14 」
「 6+8 = 2 」
─────
“Deadline is arrival in the capital.”
“What is this……”
“Asking me already? I didn't make them brutally difficult. If you hate it, quit.”
“I-I didn't say I hate it.”
As Ferzen reached to reclaim it, Euphemia hastily hid the paper behind her.
“Then I'll step out. Use paper and ink freely, but if you stain the desk or floor, you'll be punished.”
Finishing, Ferzen rose and left the room.
Hesitating, Euphemia cautiously sat in his chair, placed the paper on the desk, and took up the pen.
“Hmph……”
Even if she solved them, he might renege—but that was fine. Seeing him squirm to weasel out with twisted logic would be satisfying enough.
Imagining toppling his arrogant, autocratic pride, she dove into the problems with spiteful determination.
“……”
Unlike her motivated start, night had fallen unnoticed. Lying in bed, blinking, Euphemia tossed and turned before softly propping herself up.
She'd tried various mathematical approaches, but still no answer for the first problem. Maybe it wasn't mathematical? But Ferzen had permitted free use of paper and ink, so perhaps not.
Swish.
From Brutein to the capital Ernes took about a week. With only ten days left, impatience led her to cheat.
As long as she got the answers.
Scribble.
Extending her palm to cast a shadow over his face yielded no reaction. Confirming Ferzen slept deeply, she leaned close and whispered softly.
……The correct answer to the problem.
Alcohol and sleep were time-honored confessors drawing out the subconscious. Success was a bonus; failure inconsequential.
……The correct answer to the problem.
……The correct answer to the problem.
……Tell me.
……You bastard.
“Ah……”
Emotion slipped out midway. Her tone had risen too. Clutching her accelerating heart, she jerked her head back.
Fortunately, he remained silent, unmoving……
“Your idea is so pathetic and childish…… it doesn't even warrant a sigh.”
As Ferzen's crimson eyes—burning like the candle illuminating the dark—fixed clearly on her, Euphemia forgot how to breathe.
“Guhk……!”
She could dismiss her act as eccentricity, but was it normal for him to snap awake at mere whispers in deep sleep?
She hadn't truly expected him to reveal answers in his sleep anyway. With a bit more greed, she'd have added face-to-face insults.
Perhaps this man had been feigning sleep from the moment she lay down.
“……Breathe.”
Utterly flustered—embarrassing even for him to comment—Ferzen soothed her in a gentle murmur.
“Hah, uh……”
Finally exhaling her held breath.
“The first problem requires no mathematical approach.”
To Ferzen, who knew the answer, it seemed simple, so he'd baited her into irrelevant math from the start. Returning to find scattered papers, he'd been surprised at how well it worked but planned to bestow the hint magnanimously if she asked later……
“If that's satisfactory, lie down.”
It seemed the carrot's efficiency peaked now; no need to delay.
“I-I never asked you to tell me……”
“I know.”
His affirming reply felt like absolution; Euphemia lay back with faint joy.
But that was that—shouldn't she pay for waking a sound sleeper? Ferzen placed his hand on her lower abdomen.
“Wh-why……”
To Euphemia, his touch there signaled prelude to sex, so she panicked and reached out, but……
“Nngh……!”
Unable to push away as his index finger pressed her navel, she meekly clasped her hands over her chest.
Only then did she vaguely realize this was punishment.
'Just for a little cursing……'
Not even cursing—just stating facts.
“D-don't…… ahng!”
A puppy baring its belly and yielding to touch signaled clear submission. Suspecting that's what he intended, she gripped his thick forearm with her timidly gathered hands, but all that returned was a massive palm crushing her abdomen, pressing her womb with pain.
'Humiliating……'
Stay still, and his hand softly stroked her lower belly like a lullaby inviting sleep. Overt domestication.
Of course, she had no intent to submit obediently, so she closed her eyes, feigning sleep with even breaths. He'd withdraw once convinced she slept.
“……”
But before long—before feeling his hand lift—she truly fell into deep slumber.