Before Becoming a Professor
The carriage, racing along the well-maintained road before he became a professor, came to a slow stop. With still about a day left to travel, it was probably just to give the horses a rest.
"Are you going to stay like that?"
Ferzen stepped out, opening the door, then turned to look at her. Beyond him, the beautiful Tisbe River wound through lush greenery, creating a refreshing vista, but Euphemia shook her head and clutched the paper smeared with her handprints, her eyes fixed on it. With only the evils left unsolved, she desperately wanted to crack at least problem one.
"Don't mind me... go ahead."
"Very well."
Ferzen had briefly considered dragging her out by force, but sensing that leaving her alone created a more comfortable atmosphere, he quietly closed the carriage door.
"Nngh..."
As soon as Ferzen walked off into the distance, Euphemia lay sideways comfortably and racked her brain.
The approach itself isn't wrong.
From Ferzen's words that there was no need for a mathematical solution, she vaguely realized the equation was metaphorically referring to something identical being called differently.
For example, a woman and a female.
6+8 has symbolic meaning, but the result is a clue that precisely indicates what it's metaphorizing...
14 and 2. Something that groups them to hold the same meaning—that's the answer.
I don't know.
It might be something simple, but maybe she just couldn't grasp it. Unlike her, confined to Ruerg, Ferzen had seen, heard, and learned so much.
Perhaps it was a problem designed simply to humiliate her ignorance.
Should I quit...?
Even if she solved problem one, she doubted she could tackle two and three in the remaining day.
"Ah..."
And enlightenment struck suddenly.
"I... I got it..."
6+8=14. 6+8=2. The condition where this holds true is time.
Normally called 2 p.m., but dividing the day into 24 hours makes the precise notation 14:00. What 6+8 symbolizes is the hour and minute hands of a clock.
Bang.
"...!"
Startled! While basking in the afterglow of solving the stubborn problem, Ferzen returned for documents he'd left behind to read on his walk, entering the carriage. Euphemia naturally sat up.
She expected a scolding for lying undignified in the carriage, but he turned away indifferently, as if uninterested.
"U-um..."
Euphemia reached out a slender hand, grabbing Ferzen's coat hem to halt him briefly.
"Do you have something to say?"
"I... I solved it... The answer is, the time on a clock."
Tap, tap.
As she explained why, Ferzen listened silently without interrupting once. Then, in his characteristically pleasant mid-low tone,
"Correct."
His response made Euphemia unwittingly hum through her nose, swelling with inexplicable pride.
"Euphemia."
"What?"
"A gift."
A necklace featuring an emerald—cheap by Ferzen's standards—adorned beautifully at the cost of more valuable gems sacrificed for its luster.
"S-suddenly, why...?"
"The deal to grant one request upon solving all three problems vanishes upon reaching the capital, but separately, I intended to reward you for each one solved."
As if to put it on himself, Ferzen gripped her shoulders, turned her back, and lifted her hair.
"Lower your head a bit."
"N-no... I don't need it."
She didn't like gems anyway, and she'd often seen Ferzen trying to tame her like this. Like handprints on a well-used item, Euphemia didn't want Ferzen's traces etched on her body if possible.
"Euphemia."
"I-I said no..."
"I won't force you."
"..."
Surprisingly, Ferzen didn't insist and backed off meekly. Or so she thought.
"I won't force you, but a person should have some backbone, at least. If you hate receiving anything from me, return the clothes you're wearing right here."
"Wh-what...?"
"Stubbornness needs consistency for people to accept it."
Was this just to break her spirit? The thought crossed her mind, but Euphemia saw no falsehood in Ferzen's eyes.
If she hesitated, this man might really strip her naked...
"G-give it... give it to me..."
She extended her hand as if asking for the necklace.
"Too late."
"..."
"Did you think such flimsy double standards could reject my consideration? If you'd stripped naked and handed them over, I might have thought better of you."
"Wh-what was I supposed to do then... so...?"
"If you've done wrong, receiving punishment is natural cause and effect, isn't it?"
Under his unique pressure, Euphemia couldn't even question if she'd truly erred enough for punishment. Just as commoners naturally bowed before nobles.
She was naturally swallowed by Ferzen's autocratic aura. They truly differed here—one too domineering, the other too soft. Hard to believe they were even nobles conversing.
"H-hit me if you want to hit me."
"I..."
Ferzen frowned at her words.
"...have never treated you with physical violence."
She wanted to say physical force wasn't the only violence, but knowing she'd lose any tug-of-war, Euphemia slowly approached Ferzen and clasped her hands behind her waist.
Her defenseless lower belly protruded slightly before him, and the humiliation made her turn her head aside.
"Insufficient sincerity. Sometimes you bow your head to resolve things, and if that fails, you kneel."
"H-here, what more do you want...!"
Did he really want her groveling like a dog? Her face flushed crimson as she glared, but Ferzen wrapped her waist, sitting her sideways on his lap.
He supported her back to recline her upper body comfortably, then lifted her skirt hem, forcing her to hold it herself.
"N-no..."
This was different from before. Him fondling her belly over clothes by force, versus her lifting her skirt to expose it for him—worlds apart.
"Euphemia."
"..."
"Lift it."
A gentle whisper like ripples on the wind, yet to her, it was a starving wolf growling in her ear.
Thus, she gripped the skirt hem tightly and slowly raised it, revealing her pristine white panties and flawless smooth belly.
The moment Ferzen's hand touched her lower belly, Euphemia trembled, lowering the hem lightly with shaky hands.
This staged a scene of him forcing his way to toy with her, easing her shame a bit...
"Kghk—!"
His fisted hand slowly drilled into her unflexed lower belly, drawing an ugly gasp as her body quivered.
"Even during punishment, you scheme."
His cold voice murmured close to her ear.
"Hic...! Hnngh...! Khuh!"
The rounded knuckles protruding from his fist pressed her abdomen, oppressively lifting toward her womb.
"I-it hurts..."
Her voice shrinking from the twisting pain inside, but Ferzen said nothing.
Yet she knew how this rough, wicked hand could turn gentle and kind.
Slide.
With trembling hands, she gripped the hem fiercely, lifting it to her waist and fixing it firm.
Like a disobedient pup flipping belly-up to appease its master—utterly humiliating, but...
"Ah..."
As Ferzen's large hand softly covered her lower belly, a comforting relief melted her tension away.
"Good girl."
"Sh-shut up..."
Not wanting praise for this, she turned away, avoiding his gaze.
Of course, undeterred, his hand gently patted her belly, stroking like a ticklish spring breeze.
"Euphemia."
"..."
"If you're not prepared to break resisting, just obey me quietly."
"Then if I resist with resolve to break...?"
Would he back off? She almost asked, but gave up.
This man would break her first if she didn't bend.
"..."
And for a fleeting moment, Euphemia disliked how well she understood Ferzen von Schweig Brutein.
"If you drowned, you'd probably deem even that death shameful, your corpse refusing to float."
Mocking his rigid formality, but...
"Then you'd have to sink with me."
His reply sealed her lips tight.
It didn't sound like a joke at all.
* * * * *
Separate from Euphemia possessing a perfect golden ratio, her family's lowly status and impure blood naturally irked him whenever she defied or crawled up to him.
This was the ego innate to Ferzen as a noble, reflexively triggered by his strong sense of chosen superiority.
Of course, mixed in was the ordinary everyman ego of Lee Seojin, creating dissonance when such feelings surged, but the result of controlling it was his current self.
"H-how long are you going to do this...?"
Non-violent taming. Or training, rather.
It felt slightly off the initial path, but as long as the goal was the same, it didn't matter.
"D-don't press the navel..."
Whining like a puppy, yet her hands clutching the raised skirt hem never wavered.
Her fragrant body scent, once hidden by fabric, now thickly filled the carriage, oddly pleasant.
Despite considerable time together, his nose hadn't grown accustomed, perceiving it not as odorless.
Yes, her stimuli always felt fresh to him.
—We will depart shortly.
Already that time? At the coachman's voice from outside, he withdrew his hand.
Euphemia immediately slipped from his lap to the opposite seat, straightening her disheveled attire.
"Let me. Even this you're clumsy at. You..."
Talent—his touch, influenced by Neat Appearance, smoothed her clothes wrinkle-free.
Watching her docilely accept it, he drew out the necklace again.
"..."
This time, no refusal.
Just a sullen face as she fiddled with it around her neck, sighed, and closed her eyes.
Did it feel like a collar rather than jewelry? But he didn't care to probe further, settling back as the carriage moved on.
Thus, exactly one day later, they arrived at the empire's capital.