Chapter 74: Even a Flower Gets Wet, But the Scent Does Not
Glancing briefly at Ferzen von Schweig Brutein as he conversed with Uriel Wayne Daina Alfred's physician, Uriel lowered her head to examine her own body.
“……”
The fever had broken. The headache was gone. All that lingered was a faint ache in her limbs and the soreness from her period.
The unfamiliar sensation between her legs felt like cloth.
She had been changed into fresh clothes.
She vaguely remembered telling him to clear everything away before she lost consciousness…
But had the room been properly aired out? She recalled it being sealed shut.
If so, her body scent must have filled the air.
How far had Ferzen explored her body?
Why the scarf…
Fumbling with the scarf tightly wrapped around her neck, Uriel tried to loosen it, but as Ferzen, having finished his talk with the physician, approached her, she dropped her hands and looked up at him in silence.
“Uriel.”
“……”
“Do you have nowhere to stay?”
“I was just pulling an all-nighter preparing for finals.”
“Traces of your life were left in your office. No carriage in the parking lot either.”
To Ferzen's interrogation disguised as concern, Uriel responded curtly.
“So what? Why do you care?”
“It seems that old monster Coleone gave you a rather childish punishment.”
“Mind your own—”
As Uriel slid down from the bed, she wobbled, steadying herself.
“Uriel.”
“You stopped nitpicking lately. Don't call me by my name like we're close.”
“Professor Uriel.”
“What is it, Professor Ferzen?”
“I have something to tell you. Spare me a moment.”
“Just say it here.”
“If it were that simple, I would have. Do you lack any capacity for thought?”
“Go home. You must be tired from night duty.”
Uriel turned her head away, signaling she wanted no more personal talk.
In response, Ferzen seized her wrist and dragged her out of the infirmary by force.
“Ah— it hurts…! Let go!”
“Don't exaggerate. I didn't grab you that hard.”
“You think my body's the same as yours?!”
His grip was stronger than expected, and as Uriel teared up, clutching his forearm, it didn't budge an inch.
“S-slow down at least…! My chest hurts!”
With his brisk pace, Uriel's breasts jiggled vulgarly. Each bounce sent pain from her period soreness shooting through her, and she swung her free hand to smack his back.
“……”
Only then did Ferzen gradually slow his steps.
Their destination was… the parking lot behind the main building.
“Get in.”
“Ha…”
Seeing the Brutein-emblazoned carriage there and Ferzen's gesture toward it, Uriel let out a hollow laugh.
“Where to? Your mansion? Even if I have nowhere right now, I don't want to live there. Don't bother.”
“I never said it was my mansion.”
“Then say so. What do you want? Why are you suddenly doing this? Feeling pity now that I seem homeless? If so, why not at the banquet? I would've accepted your pity then.”
“……If you don't want it, do as you please.”
Leaving Uriel standing there, Ferzen boarded the carriage.
“I'll give you 30 seconds.”
He left the door open and glanced at the clock tower.
“……”
At his unspoken urging, Uriel felt a surge of absurdity, but curiosity about what he wanted to say won out. After about 15 seconds, she stepped forward and climbed in on her own.
“You're remarkably skilled at making things complicated.”
“Don't mock me.”
The door shut, and Ferzen signaled the coachman to depart.
The rain had paused briefly, but it seemed ready to resume soon. The rainy season loomed.
Gazing briefly at the scenery outside, Uriel opened the window to let her scent dissipate, then turned to Ferzen.
“Now… speak.”
“Gerard Ren Millane Aslan.”
“……”
“He told me he wants to treat me to a meal and express his gratitude. But no matter how I rack my brain, I've done nothing to aid the Aslan count family. So it must mean something I did inadvertently benefited them.”
Gerard, your lips are looser than I thought.
“Probably… No, Coleone that old monster must have ordered you to marry the son of the Aslan count family.”
No reason to deny it, so Uriel nodded.
“So what? It has nothing to do with you.”
“Why do you think it has nothing to do with me?”
“Feeling guilty now that your actions forced me into an unwanted political marriage? Hilarious.”
“If I felt that guilty, as you say, I would've let it slide quietly at the banquet from the start.”
“I have no interest in solving riddles with you.”
At Uriel's demand for the point, Ferzen paused, then answered in a low voice.
“I plan to replace the head of the North.”
“……”
“Which is why the Aslan count family gaining power is a problem.”
“Ha…”
Hearing that, Uriel pressed her forehead, covering her eyes.
“Ahaha…”
“……”
She burst into bitter, sorrow-tinged laughter.
“In summary… you want me to marry into the northern family you're pushing?”
“Uriel.”
“Don't make me laugh. I'm not some slut to be sold off as you wish. No! I'm sick of it! In your eyes, am I not a person named Uriel, but just a womb to shove your seed into and bear children?”
“The new head of the North will be me.”
“Get lost…”
“……”
“What bullshit is this now? If you're going to pull this, why not undo that day 10 years ago? Brutein can scoop up spilled water, huh? Impressive.”
“It can.”
Despite Uriel's sarcasm, Ferzen remained composed.
“If it couldn't, why would I tell you this?”
“……”
“Coleone that old monster can't refuse. He covets the direct Brutein blood flowing in my veins. You know that too.”
“I'll… refuse.”
“Then, as now. Your will won't matter.”
“……”
“Uriel. Do you know this? Every object designates its seller—its future owner—before it's even made. In that sense, weren't you made for me from the start? I vaguely knew it.”
“Don't treat me like an object. I…!”
“Livestock are living beings, yet they belong to the rancher.”
“……”
“If it were handing a sword to a farmer who only plows fields, I wouldn't care. He couldn't use it properly anyway. No… even in a knight's hands, as long as it wasn't against me, it would've been fine. But it's not, is it? Better to reclaim a discarded sword than let it fall into enemy hands.”
With his crimson eyes fixed straight on hers, Ferzen continued.
“Uriel. Whatever you do, you can't twist this. Consider it a notice. Resign yourself.”
“You called me trash… Don't you remember what you spat that day 10 years ago? As payment for the political gain you gave him, Grandfather wants a child mixed with your blood. Can you even get it up for a daughter of the Alfred family you despised so much?”
“……”
“Why? Too vulgar? I'll add more. No, I will. Can you stick your cock in my pussy? Can you fill my womb with your cum? Can you bring a child of Alfred and Brutein blood into this world?”
Clench! Veins bulged on his fist.
Each vulgar word from Uriel grated, and truthfully, what she described felt somewhat repulsive.
But the original Ferzen wouldn't have chosen that at the banquet—no, he wouldn't have attended at all.
Yes. This was… Ferzen, but not Ferzen.
“Ten years ago, I apologize for insulting you.”
Screech! The carriage halted.
Outside the window stood a modest house.
Bang.Ferzen opened the door and stepped out.
Uriel followed.
Click. Unlocking the door, Ferzen entered, and Uriel trailed behind.
“……I didn't want an apology.”
“Stay here for the time being. Your work won't be delayed.”
“Answer my question.”
“I'll give you money too. Buy whatever you want.”
A bundle of gold coins piled onto the bed.
“Ferzen von Schweig Brutein.”
But Uriel quietly called his full name.
Then, right there, she stripped off her clothes.
Converting mana to water, she erased the bloodstains between her legs.
Now fully, beautifully nude, she walked toward Ferzen.
“If you can't lust for me… if you lack the resolve to embrace me, don't play these half-assed games. Don't try to flip me over like turning your palm. Look properly! Really look! This is the body of the Alfred daughter you're supposed to claim.”
“……”
“You bastard… How can you take me as a concubine without even looking properly? Don't make me laugh… How light and worthless do you see me? Fine, reclaim the discarded item. But then you should be able to use it. You can't even get hard from my spoiled scent…”
As Uriel bowed her head, Ferzen let out a deep sigh, approached, and unwrapped the scarf from her neck.
Then, to the mirror.
He led her there slowly, gripped her chin from behind, and lifted it.
“See it?”
“……”
“Proof that I lusted for you.”
“Ah…”
“Enough to see you as a woman.”
“Get out…”
Uriel reached back, pushing Ferzen away.
“The room's stuffy. Air it out. Or buy perfume.”
“I said get out…”
“I heard you. Rest well.”
As he wished, Ferzen opened the door and left.
Uriel sat on the bed, quietly surveying the room.
The interior was stark.
“……”
Rain began pattering again.
Creak. Uriel lay on the bed.
I won't listen to you.
Despite the closed window, Uriel touched her neck.
Declaring she wouldn't heed Ferzen while not leaving the house was an ironic contradiction.
With money in hand, she had options.
Worst case, return to her office.
But his words—“I'll drop by occasionally”—held her there.
Through the window, a flower wilted in the rain.
But her scent, filling the room, remained unwet.
Yes… A flower may get wet.
But the scent does not.