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Ferdinand-sama seems unable to control himself lately. I feel… conflicted about it. Ever since I told him that my Bluanfa has danced and that I finally feel the feelings of a maiden toward a man, toward him… well, our time in the foundation supply room is no longer quiet. That awkward exchange of hugs is gone and honestly, I’m glad to be rid of the awkwardness.
But in its place, Ferdinand and I… well, we are doing what other couples do when they’re alone. Lately, though, it’s been getting intense, and I’m scared. I know what’s coming, yet I have no experience. I never did anything like this with other men in my past life. And then there’s propriety to consider. Ah, what am I to do? Outside the supply room, we are no longer allowed to be alone despite betrothed to one another. Everywhere we go, our retainers would follow. That’s why we do this kind of things here. For about thirty minutes, once a week.
Still, he looks so handsome, and when he frowns because our time alone is over, he’s so adorable. But, like Cornelius said before, I must be firm with him. Yes. Otherwise, people would never stop talking about me and my lack of decorum and propriety!
Today is the day I pour my mana into the foundation, and, as always, Ferdinand-sama will be by my side. I have resolved: today, I will speak my mind. I will be firm. I will… ah, no.
He looks too good today. More than usual. It must be the result of my careful instructions to his chefs—now every meal is enjoyed to the last bite, and I make sure he finishes them all. I even make him sleep properly. No wonder his eyes sparkle like twin stars.
And that scent… his own linsham, crisp and refreshing, fitting for a man of his stature… it’s maddening. I must remain firm. I must. But how, when every part of him tempts me to forget propriety entirely?
"That's enough," Ferdinand declares. That means I’ve poured enough mana into the duchy for the week. And for us… well, it means his hands will soon reach for me, pulling me into his embrace. He pulled me up into an embrace just like I thought he would and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
He always lingered just a little too long near my lips. This had become our new routine: after I poured my mana into the foundation, Ferdinand would hug me tight and plant soft, lingering kisses. I no longer needed to ask for a hug. We do this once a week in the supply room, away from the eyes of our retainers.
Oh no. I should say something. I must say something.
"Fer—Ferdinand-sama…" I stammer, my face pressed into his chest, heart hammering like a drum. I dare to look up—and there he is, that impossible smile, that infuriatingly handsome expression, making it nearly impossible to stay firm.
He leans closer, and our lips meet. I can’t speak. I can only remember to breathe through my nose. He taught me this, I remind myself, though it hardly makes it any less… overwhelming.
His mouth parts slightly, and I feel our tongues intertwine. How… indecent. My cheeks burn, my heart races, and yet, his magic flows into me, warm and thrilling, making everything feel impossibly… pleasant. Breathe, breathe properly, Rozemyne, I tell myself, clumsily wrapping my arms around him as if holding on will somehow steady me.
Ferdinand hums softly against my lips, a sound that makes me melt from the inside out. My hands slide along his back, tentative at first, then more daring. Every heartbeat seems magnified, echoing in my ears. How am I supposed to stay firm when he is this irresistible, this impossibly close?
And still, there’s that tiny, maddening thought in the back of my mind: propriety! My cheeks flare hotter. My rational mind shouts, Remember your training! Remember decorum! But my body betrays me completely.
He pulls back just slightly, enough to catch my gaze, and I find myself lost in his eyes. Sparkling, teasing, utterly magnetic. “Rozemyne,” he whispers, voice low, smooth, sending shivers down my spine. I try to answer, to remind him—and myself—of restraint, but all I can do is lean closer, daring him to continue.
It’s a battle, a delicious, dizzying tug-of-war between desire and discipline. And I… I have no idea who will win.
He moves suddenly, leaning toward my neck. This… this is what the youths call a “necking”? My first time! My whole body stiffens, and I can barely think straight. Ferdinand is so daring… so bold…
“Ah!” My mouth gasps before I can stop it. Why did I make that noise? My cheeks flare, and my heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest.
He looks up at me then, and—oh no!—he’s grinning like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Ferdinand-sama… how can someone be this infuriatingly handsome and mischievous at the same time?
My hands tremble as I clutch at him, part panic, part… something else I can’t name. How am I supposed to stay firm when he’s smiling like that, teasing me without a single word?
"Rozemyne…" Ferdinand murmurs, his lips brushing the side of my neck, and I can’t help a shiver escaping me. My hands clutch at his shoulders, trying to ground myself, but every part of him is magnetic, overwhelming, irresistible.
“F-Ferdinand-sama…” I stammer, breath hitching. Stay firm. Remember propriety! My inner voice screams, but my body has clearly ignored it.
He tilts his head, that infuriating grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Is this… too much?” he asks, teasingly. His hand slides to the small of my back, drawing me impossibly closer. “You don’t have to answer,” he adds, though I can tell from his expression that he’s enjoying every second of my flustered state.
I feel heat rising to my cheeks. My heart is racing so fast it might leap from my chest. “I—I’m fine…” I manage, though my voice wavers. Fine? Really, Rozemyne? My rational mind scoffs at my own words.
Ferdinand hums softly, lips pressing briefly against mine before pulling back just enough to make me ache for more. “You look so… delicate when you’re flustered,” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It suits you.”
I grip his arms, trying to hide my racing heartbeat. “F-Ferdinand-sama, please… don’t—” I fail to finish, because he leans in again, and a gasp escapes me, soft and unrestrained.
His hands hold me gently but firmly, grounding me while simultaneously stirring a storm inside. Every whisper of his voice, every teasing smile, every subtle touch sends me into dizzying confusion. How am I supposed to be firm when he’s everywhere—too close, too warm, too impossibly charming?
And yet… part of me doesn’t want to resist. Even as propriety shouts at me from the back of my mind, I can’t deny the thrill, the warmth, the dangerously sweet pleasure of being this close to him. I feel his hand slide against me as he deepens the kiss, his touch firm yet careful, sending a rush of heat through my entire body. Even through the layers of clothing between us, it feels as though he is trying to strip away every last barrier, leaving me utterly exposed to him.
“Rozemyne,” he whispers again, a soft promise threading through my name. I tremble in his arms, caught between panic and desire, and realize—some battles are impossible to win when the opponent is this handsome.
"Ferdinand-sama! How far do you want to go?!" I suddenly cry, my voice trembling. I just… I can’t keep up.
I look into his eyes, but the room seems to blur, as if it’s suddenly filled with water. My vision swims, and then I realize—I’m crying.
Not out of anger. No, certainly not that. It’s… everything. The closeness, the warmth, the overwhelming intensity of being this exposed, this vulnerable. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst, and my mind can barely process what’s happening.
Ferdinand’s eyes widen slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Rozemyne…” he murmurs softly, reaching for me but more careful now, as if afraid to overwhelm me further.
I press his hands against my chest, trying to steady myself, trying to collect my scattered thoughts, but the tears keep coming. “I… I just—everything is too much!” I manage to gasp between sobs.
He tilts his head, that infuriatingly calm, teasing expression replaced by genuine care and worry. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. “I… I went too far.”
Ferdinand’s eyes soften further, and he brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. “I am sorry… you have my name stone,” he says gently, though that familiar heated glint still lingers in his gaze. “Use it as your shield. Tell me to stop.”
The words, the warmth, the closeness—they make my heart pound in a way I’ve never felt before. And yet, despite the fear and embarrassment, I can’t help but lean into him, drawn by something far stronger than reason.
When he mentions his name stone, a sudden realization hits me—I can put a stop to this. Literally. My hands tremble slightly as I cling to him, heart still racing.
The words, the warmth, the closeness—they make my heart pound in a way I’ve never felt before. And yet, despite the fear and embarrassment, I can’t help but lean into him, drawn by something far stronger than reason. “I… I don’t hate it,” I whisper, my voice still trembling. “We’re going to get married soon… I do want to do more. I just… need time.”
Ferdinand tilts his head, that concerned frown softening into something tender. “Time,” he murmurs. “Of course, Rozemyne. As much as you need.”
I take a deep breath, letting my racing heart settle. “We will probably do more one day,” I say softly. “Maybe next week… or next month. We’re going to get married soon. We have all the time we need.”
I look up at him and press a comforting kiss to his lips before gently cupping his cheeks. His expression is so tender it makes my heart ache. It feels like a quiet promise amidst the chaos within me. He chuckles softly and pulls me closer, wrapping me in the tightest hug he’s given me in a long while.
Then, the room’s signal light glows, signalling the end of our rendezvous for today. I let out a shaky sigh, leaning against him for just a moment longer, savouring the warmth, before we finally part.