Kapitel 87: Yuriel Wayne Dayna Alfred (16)
To read until the final episode p.atreon.com/tengri02
Dreams are often chaotic but sometimes, they can reflect one's state of mind.
"..."
And Euphemia was currently lost in her lucid dream.
The full moon shone in her dreamscape, casting its beautiful moonlight in the room. Truly a mesmerizing scene...
And as she sat on a chair, her pregnancy was in its final stages.
Could this be some sort of materialization of her worries about Ferzen taking the second daughter of Alfred as his mistress?
But her future self didn't express any of her concerns if her warm smile was any sort of an indication.
'If that is true, then...'
Where was her husband?
As if responding to her question, the dreamscape shifted...
And through an open doorway, Ferzen slowly made his way towards her future self, placing both of his hands on her pregnant belly, kissing the side of her belly.
Kiss.
The shameful sound echoed around the room.
Normally this would have made Euphemia greatly embarrassed, but her future self didn't even blink, instead, her warm smile now shifted to something more...coquettish as she hugged her husband.
The confidence and pure mature charm that was overflowing from her future self, made Euphemia doubt whether they were indeed the same person...
"Hm~~Yes..."
But those doubts were extinguished when Ferzen lifted the helm of her nightgown and kissed her navel, making her future self moan wistfully.
And after a long and lustful moan, her future self, with a slightly blushing complexion, cradled Ferzen's head, stoked his hair affectionately, and looked directly at Euphemia's eyes, as if telling her...
That there was nothing to worry about.
That this man was still being a good husband to her.
Those were the wonders spoken by her future self.
Jolt!
"..."
Her dream ended on such a note.
Her consciousness gradually snapped to the real world, as if telling her that there was no need to waste her time with dreams.
The room was now bathed in the warm sunlight, unlike her dreamscape.
Turning her head to the side, she saw her husband sitting beside her.
"Has your fever gone down?"
An even but soothing tone.
And a large, but warm hand now rested on her forehead.
Euphemia stared at her husband for a moment, as his hand moved from her forehead to her cheek, caressing it as one would do to their loved child.
"Yes..."
Euphemia could feel her lingering worries disappear.
* * * * *
June 9th.
5:30 P.M.
Yuriel rose from her seat as she saw a carriage with the crest of Alfred parked outside of her temporary home.
Since she didn't have anything belonging to her in this house, Yuriel opened the door and walked away, leaving the traces of her former self behind.
"So it's you. It's been a while."
"You seem in good spirits today, Lady Yuriel."
"So it would seem. Now let's go..."
Giving the coachmen a wry smile, Yuriel entered the carriage.
As soon as she had returned to the Alfred state in the capital, Yuriel was treated like she always has been, with a platoon of maids following her into the bathroom.
But no perfume was used.
Because, tonight, the first night with her future husband, nothing could be more seductive than her own scent.
"Argh! What are you doing?!"
"Loosening your muscles, My Lady."
"I didn't order you to do such a thing...Grandfather made you do this right?"
"Yes, My Lady."
Yuriel could only wince as the maids started to massage her lower back and hips.
"They say that with a well-massaged hip, your sensitivity will increase."
"What the fuck..."
Yuriel could only sigh in disbelief.
But sure enough, the maids massaged her whole body, loosening the tight muscles around her hips.
By the time she exited the bathroom, it was 6:30 P.M.
Heading straight to the closet, Yuriel was changed into a pure white dress.
A color that was specially chosen for his preference for black suits.
She also didn't wear any sort of jewelry.
This was something that Geralt had no way of knowing. But Ferzen hated such things.
Yes, even if this was an auction.
Yuriel, as the prize of this event, was already being wrapped up for Ferzen, and only him.
"It's done, My lady."
After a long moment, the maids lowered their hands.
And Yuriel opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the mirror, spouting only light makeup.
"Are you dissatisfied with something, My Lady?"
"No...Let's get this over with."
Shaking her head at the maid's question, Yuriel slightly lifted the helm of her dress and walked away.
Usually, there are no ceremonies when entering the chambers.
The only time this happens is when the husband is stating that the mistress has a higher standing than his official wife.
'So...'
Even if there's no ceremony.
Then, like that painting, I saw on the streets....
I want to be carved as such too.
* * * * *
Squeeek!
A luxurious carriage stopped in front of the Alfred state in the capital.
Bearing a soaring blue hawk as its crest.
The soaring hawk crest, represented the House Asran, the current leaders of the North.
Stomp.
And a man with silver-grey hair stepped out of it.
Dressed in a beautiful blue suit, an Azelia suit, but even though the man tried to mask it, there was still a hint of nervousness on his face.
After all his competitor was none other than Brutein.
'The time...'
6:50 P.M.
Thinking he had arrived in a good time, Geralt straightened his clothes and entered the state.
But when escorted to the dinner table, Geralt couldn't help but frown.
The meal presented there, bore a striking resemblance to what Ferzen told him in that restaurant.
The main dish was goat meat.
And through the table, a variety of nonsweet fruits were displayed.
'Even that old man is messing with me now.'
Geralts fists clenched, but he managed to put on a stoic expression as he gave Corleone a polite bow.
6:55 P.M.
But Ferzen hasn't arrived.
'Is he trying to come at the exact time?'
Thinking that this must be some silly way of getting back at him, Geralt took a sip of his wine as he looked at Yuriel.
Her pure white dress matched her fair skin.
Yuriel's clothes were elegant and modest, but because of her absurdly large bosom, the modest image of the dress only served to accentuate her body.
This in turn made Geralt's desire to taint that pure white dress with his colors soar.
"..."
The corners of his mouth twitched when Yuriel noticed his gaze and looked away.
She was the one who dismissed his goodwill, painting herself as goods in the possession of her family.
'So...When I win this farce, you will regret it.'
Dealing with people may be one thing, but when one is handling an object things can become quite... rough.
Thus, five minutes passed and it was now 7 P.M, but....
Ferzen still hadn't shown up.
'Hahahaha...!'
But this for some reason made Geralt feel more relaxed as he leaned back in his seat.
Another 10 minutes passed.
An hour had gone by.
But when Corleone still didn't utter a word, Geralt patience was at its limits.
He felt like a minor character in a theater troupe.
In one of the situations where the lead actor doesn't show up, and because of it the show didn't go on.
"I'm not someone you can play with, you old coot."
Geralt grumbled at Corleone, who up till now sat quietly as if his time had stopped.
Even if the one in front of him was the Elder of the Alfred Family, the one who ruled the underworld of the Capital, this was too much.
"..."
When Corleone heard those words, he simply looked at Geralt.
Gulp.
Unconsciously Geralt swallowed a lump in his throat.
His fist clenched in response.
Corleone's gaze, no the gaze of the one who ruled the underbelly of the Capital was simply overwhelming.
His eyes were akin to a treacherous snake staring down at measly mice. Just by being its target, Geralt felt his legs going limp, and the energy of his body was drained away.
Perhaps tonight, the hawk would be devoured by the treacherous snake.
"Yes...That seems reasonable."
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Corleone spoke, his voice was rough, poisonous, and without a shed of emotion.
But Geralt was finally able to release the breath he had been holding all this time.
Then, as Corleone began to eat, Geralt also picked up his knife, but his hands trembled with such intensity that he couldn't even slice the meat properly.
Eventually when he managed to finally put the food in his mouth...
It was already cold and tasteless.
To read until the final episode p.atreon.com/tengri02
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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