Ines felt as though she would go mad from the unbearable itch between her legs. Whenever she was ill, she was stung by the loneliness of not having anyone come to see her, but this time she was grateful for the solitude.

“Haa… hhh…”

Her breath came in hot, ragged bursts as she frantically rubbed her undergarments with her fingertips. The heat and pressure in her body were impossible to endure.

She needed release, but her fingers alone could never satisfy her, especially when she remembered the heat and thickness of something far greater.

“Haa… Luc…”

She called him by his childhood nickname, which she hadn’t used in years, and scratched at the damp fabric clinging to her skin. His scent came to mind so vividly that she was overwhelmed by desire.

“Mm—!”

Even in her fevered haze, she bit down on the blanket to stifle her m*an, pressing her hand insistently against her damp underwear.

Every touch made Lucien’s face fill her thoughts, reducing her to nothing but desire, like an animal in heat. She rubbed and rubbed again until, just before her consciousness faded, she whispered:

“My ◯◯…”

⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤

After spending four days in bed with a high fever, Ines woke up the next morning feeling perfectly fine. However, her bedding and clothes were soaked in sweat, leaving her damp and uncomfortable.

Once she was able to move around easily, she went straight to the bathroom to have a wash.

It was still early; the sun had not yet fully risen, and the cool air felt refreshing. Feeling clean and clear-headed, she opened the window and gazed absently towards the distant sunrise.

“Why on earth did I have a fever?”

There had been no cough or other symptoms, just the fever itself. She’d never experienced anything like it before.

“Ugh…”

The spot she had been rubbing for days still throbbed faintly, and she felt utterly pathetic. Now that her mind was clear, she couldn’t fathom why she had acted that way.

Still feeling sluggish, she leaned against the window frame and listened to the morning bustle filling the air outside. Once the sun had fully risen, she pulled herself up to her feet. After getting ready for work, she was overwhelmed by hunger and quickly made her way to the dining room.

On her way down the stairs, Ines ran into Samantha.

“Our eldest—are you feeling better now?”

Samantha approached with a face full of concern, and Ines smiled as she replied.

“Yes, I think the medicine you gave me worked well, Mother.”

On the first day, no matter how much she took, her fever didn’t break properly. From the second day onwards, however, the medicine was different: it was less bitter and far more effective.

“Well, of course. Given how expensive it was, it had better work!”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Seeing such an unfamiliar expression on her mother’s face made her feel awkward, especially since her mother had always favoured Chloe. Nevertheless, Ines managed a small smile, thinking that perhaps Samantha had cared for her in her own way while she was ill.

“Good. You should eat well today—our eldest needs the strength to go out and earn money, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, I will.”

Her appetite had returned so fully that she felt as though she had never been ill. Relieved to have recovered, she left for work in high spirits. Even the gloom she had felt upon hearing that he had a fiancée now seemed to have faded, along with her illness.

Yes — she had known it all along, hadn’t she?

As a friend, she should be happy for him. With this in mind, Inés dived straight into her tasks when she arrived at the storeroom. She wanted to prove her worth in any way she could.

After being away for so long, there was certainly no shortage of things to keep her busy. Before she knew it, it was three o’clock. She hesitated.

‘I suppose we won’t be having tea together now, will we?’

Now that he was engaged, sharing tea with him alone would feel strange. Besides which, they had skipped it several times lately, leaving a faint trace of awkwardness between them.

She was still debating whether to go when she spotted the maid who usually collected her. The maid was approaching her, looking flustered and out of breath.

Ines wouldn’t usually have been pleased to see her, but today she felt an unexpected sense of relief.

“Why are you still here?”

Hurrying over with a smile, Ines answered.

“I was just on my way.”

If the maid had come for her, it meant that Lucien still wanted to see her. Encouraged by this thought, she quickened her pace. Seeing his back in the distance nearly brought tears to her eyes.

She forced a smile and sat down opposite him.

“You’re here?”

Lucien knew Ines had arrived without even turning around.

It was the perfume—the one she hadn’t worn since graduating from the academy—that drifted toward him in a rich, intoxicating wave.

“It’s been a while, Lucien.”

For a moment, he was silent, caught up in the sheer bliss of the scent. Saliva pooled in his mouth before he could stop it, and he found it strangely troubling.

“I heard you were sick… Are you feeling better now?”

He was baffled by the fact that he could react so strongly to nothing more than her scent. He took a quiet sip of tea and waited for her to speak. She must have seen the gift by now — wouldn’t she thank him for it?

Of course, he had never once heard her thank him for any of the smaller gifts he had sent her before. But this time, he was certain.

“Yes, I’m fine now. I’m sorry for being absent so suddenly.”

“…That’s all you have to say?”

“Hm?”

Disappointment settled heavily in Lucien’s chest. He could overlook the lack of thanks for minor things, but not for the Blue Rose.

At the very least, he had expected a word of gratitude for that. After all, being bestowed with a Blue Rose by the Emperor himself was an affectionate gesture in itself.

Yet an unpleasant suspicion began to take shape. Was she ignoring it simply because it wasn’t a jewel or something of great monetary value? But what kind of friend sends another a gemstone? What if she had misunderstood? What if she had taken it the wrong way?

He needed to put some distance between them.

Only moments ago, her scent had been something he welcomed. Now, it turned his stomach. He had dismissed the endless rumours about her since their time at the academy, but suddenly they no longer seemed so far-fetched.

Meanwhile, Ines pressed her lips together at the sudden displeasure clouding Lucien’s face. Was he angry because she had missed work without warning? She had assumed the household would have informed him, but perhaps they hadn’t.

“I… I was so sick, I couldn’t think straight.”

“I see.”

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“…”

Her failure to acknowledge the gift made her seem shallow to him. The blue rose was priceless. Annoyed with himself for thinking this way, Lucien got up from his seat earlier than usual.

“While you were gone, the storeroom was a mess.”

“…What?”

“You should’ve kept it organized in the first place.”

“Ah, sor— No, I’m sorry.”

“Have everything sorted by item before the day is over.”

“…Yes.”

Lucien gave an order that he knew could not be carried out. Then he turned on his heel and walked away. As he did so, the corner of his mouth curled into a quiet, deliberate smirk.

There were times when he simply couldn’t resist testing Ines. Ever since they were young, her expression had rarely changed, but seeing her cry gave him a unique sense of satisfaction. Sometimes, he would be overcome by the urge to taste the tears sliding from her wide eyes.

Of course, he had never acted on it. Instead, he would hand her a handkerchief. When she returned it to him, soaked through with her tears, he would feel a peculiar sense of fullness settle in his chest.

As he climbed the stairs, he drew the handkerchief from inside his jacket and let the soft fabric slip between his fingers before tucking it away again.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. Perhaps within an hour or two she would give in and come running to him, tears streaming down her face. Then, just like in the old days, he could offer her the handkerchief and comfort her.

Encouraged by the memory of her scent still clinging to him, Lucien found himself humming under his breath as he stepped into his office. Sitting at his desk, he took out his pocket watch to check the time.

He had the distinct feeling that today would pass very slowly.