Chapter 96 – The Ice Duke’s Mindset (7)

The Rochear Counts were not a family known for extravagance. They didn’t hoard gold like the royal family or command vast merchant fleets like the Ruhillens. Even Esther, the head of the family, and current Ice Duke, showed little interest in the political machinations of the magic towers, unlike her fellow Archdukes.

Their vast northern territories, however, were rich in resources: pearls, rare spices, and ambergris, the very substance Lehel had recently received as…compensation. They were far from impoverished.

But the constant drain of military expenditures kept their coffers from overflowing. And the Rochear family’s emphasis on practicality over ostentation meant that even Esther and Adela lived relatively simple lives, their attire functional rather than fashionable.

***

So, I found myself not in a stuffy, upscale restaurant, as one might expect when dining with an Archduke, but at a bustling outdoor barbecue joint, the air thick with the aroma of grilling meat and the boisterous chatter of families enjoying their evening meal. Esther, it seemed, preferred practicality over pretense.

Adela, as always, attacked her food with gusto, tearing into a piece of grilled meat with surprising ferocity. I’d always considered her appetite…robust…but Esther matched her bite for bite, their shared genetics apparently extending to their digestive systems.

Yet, despite the casual setting and the messy nature of the meal, they maintained an air of…refined savagery. No sauce-smeared lips, no greasy fingers.

Adela had once mentioned that she couldn’t gain weight, no matter how much she ate. Though, certain…assets…seemed to defy gravity, a testament to her…unique metabolism.

***

“Yawn…Teacher…”

“Sleepy? You can lie down here.”

“Thank you…hehe…”

As the charcoal glowed, the full moon casting long shadows across the bustling restaurant, Adela’s head drooped, her eyelids fluttering.

I offered my lap as a makeshift pillow, and she promptly collapsed, a soft snore escaping her lips. I even held a piece of grilled meat under her nose, just to be sure. She didn’t stir.

“So,” I began, turning to Esther. “Is it true? That Adela’s…infatuation…fuels her Unique Magic?”

“My observations suggest a correlation. Jealousy and possessiveness appear to be the…catalysts.”

Hmm. That made her even more…endearing. Somehow.

Though, her endearing qualities aside, one errant ice spike had nearly demolished my store.

I cautiously stroked her spiky hair, as if petting a particularly prickly hedgehog.

“And your…strategy?”

“Simple. Maintain the…stimulus.”

“That’s incredibly dangerous.”

“I’m aware. Which is why I’ll handle it personally. Even if her power increases, controlling Rochear’s Unique Magic is…within my capabilities.”

Esther rose and approached, her movements fluid, graceful. Her form, clad in the crisp white uniform, was…striking. Her toned thighs and hips, subtly outlined beneath the fabric, were…distracting.

“You’re seriously suggesting…you’ll…seduce me?”

“Do you doubt my…abilities?”

“You have no heart. No emotions.”

“Indeed. I won’t…feel…anything for you. But I’m well versed in the…mechanics…of male arousal.”

Her bluntness was…unsettling. And surprisingly…arousing. She stood before me, her posture confident, almost challenging, her chest thrust out slightly, as if daring me to question her…assets.

“You seem…hesitant. Strange. The title ‘Flower of the North Sea’…it referred to me, you know. Until I inherited the Unique Magic.”

“Really?”

“I believe my appearance…compares favorably. Unlike other noblewomen, I don’t rely on…artificial enhancements.”

She had a point.

As the Farencia Academy store owner, a man who’d seen his fair share of noblewomen, I could objectively assess her beauty. She was…stunning. Top tier. A natural beauty, unmarred by cosmetics or artifice.

Her serene, almost impassive expression, while initially disconcerting, didn’t appear stiff or mask-like. Her long, flowing hair and delicate features, combined with her resolute demeanor, created an intriguing…juxtaposition.

“Your proportions are…excellent. And your physique…flawless. Save for…one…minor imperfection.”

“One?”

“This.” She gestured towards the hollow space above her heart. “Ah, and a minor blemish here.” She pointed to a small mole just below her breast. “Unless…you find…ample bosom…unappealing?”

“I…that’s not…”

“Then what is the…obstacle?”

“Even disregarding Adela…it feels…wrong…somehow…”

Two rings, tokens of my…divided affections, weighed heavily in my pocket. My moral high ground felt…precarious. The taboo against polygamy, a relic of my former life, had faded, replaced by a more…fluid…morality.

But Esther’s confession, her inability to…feel…that was the true obstacle.

This wouldn’t be…love. It would be…something else. A purely physical transaction.

“Hmm. Admirable. Your…feigned concern. That’s how you ensnared her, isn’t it?”

She ensnared herself with a few slices of bread and a sympathetic ear.

But Esther, ever the pragmatist, dismissed my moral quandary with a wave of her hand.

“Louis, I said I lack emotions, not perception. Did you truly believe your…appraisal…went unnoticed?”

“…”

“And for the record, my standards are…high. I haven’t chosen a fiancé because I’m…discerning. Not merely…busy.”

“So, I…meet your criteria?”

“You’re a significant improvement over the…unwashed masses.”

Her cool hand brushed my cheek, the contrast between her frigid touch and the warmth radiating from the nearby grill sending a shiver down my spine. Her fingers traced my jawline, then lingered on my scarred shoulder, a shoulder that bore far more marks of battle than hers.

“An impressive physique. A warrior’s body.”

“…”

“Even if this is…seduction…there’s no guarantee of…consummation. If Adela masters her Unique Magic before then…we’ll cease this…exercise. Besides…” she added, a sly smile playing on her lips. “This is something I learned from the…mercenaries.”

“And that is?”

“Honestly…who wouldn’t want to…tame the Ice Empress?”

“…”

It wasn’t difficult to imagine the fate of the mercenaries who’d voiced such…aspirations. They likely resided at the bottom of Lake Senrir, encased in ice.

***

Another training session commenced on the frozen surface of the lake.

Esther, observing Adela’s unease, her gaze constantly flitting towards Louis, nodded to herself and raised her spear.

Ice walls erupted from the frozen surface, forming a towering labyrinth, a shimmering fortress of glacial ice. Each wall was meticulously angled, its transparency subtly adjusted, creating a disorienting maze of reflections and refractions. Distorted images of Esther and Louis flickered across the icy surfaces, a tantalizing glimpse of the outside world.

Adela, trapped within the heart of the maze, shivered, the frigid air biting at her exposed skin.

“Escape,” Esther commanded, her voice echoing through the icy canyons. “You won’t find your way alone. Ask the ice. It will guide you.”

The temperature within the maze would continue to drop. The walls, unlike the previous exercise, were unbreakable. This was a test of composure, of control, of…clarity.

“Shall we…begin?” Esther asked, turning to Louis, who sat patiently on a nearby bench.

The plan was simple.

Using the reflective properties of the ice, they would project…images…of intimacy, designed to stimulate Adela’s jealousy, to ignite the spark of her Unique Magic.

Naturally, Adela couldn’t know the orchestrated nature of their performance.

The challenge lay in…calibration. How far to push the…boundaries of propriety.

“I’ll…take the lead,” Esther said, firmly pressing Louis back onto the bench as he made to rise. “Remain seated.”

Her assertiveness stemmed from two distinct motivations.

First, she had no intention of engaging in a public display of…unbridled passion…in this…rustic setting. A few…strategic kisses…should suffice. If Adela escaped the maze quickly.

Second, it was a matter of…principle.

Esther was accustomed to control. As commander of the Rochear knights, revered by the Twelve Alliances, the Seven Magic Towers, the royal family, and the citizens of Pennheim, she’d always viewed relationships from a position of…dominance.

Had Louis not defeated her in combat, hadn’t he demonstrated his unwavering resolve against the demonic hordes, she wouldn’t have entertained even this…charade.

She was a predator, not prey. The idea of surrendering control, of relinquishing her dominance, of…submitting…was…unpalatable.

“So…what’s the plan?” Louis asked, his tone surprisingly calm.

“We’ll begin with…holding hands.”

Esther placed her hand over Louis’s, the contrast between her cool skin and his warmth sending a surprising jolt through her system. Another tremor echoed from within the maze, but she ignored it.

His hands, though no longer calloused from years of wielding a sword, still bore the marks of battle, the faint scars a testament to his past struggles.

They sat in silence, hands clasped, for several minutes. Within the maze, Adela continued to wander aimlessly.

“Insufficient,” Esther observed.

“And…the next step?”

“A kiss.”

“As you wish.” His indifference was…unnerving.

She tilted her chin upwards, pressing her lips to his. His response was…muted. Unlike any man she’d encountered, his demeanor remained…unflappable.

Esther frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, his voice a low murmur against her lips.

“…You’re not even closing your eyes,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. At this rate, Adela will freeze to death before she escapes.”

This was proving more challenging than she’d anticipated.

As Esther reached for the buttons of her uniform, Louis caught her wrist.

“Patience. I told you…emotions are key.”

“I don’t have emotions.”

“I know. Just…trust me.”

***

More time passed.

Adela remained trapped within the maze, her frustration growing.

Esther, realizing that a mere glimpse of exposed skin wasn’t sufficient, nodded curtly.

“Fine. Proceed.”

“Alright, then…”

Louis’s hand rose, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her earlobe, then trailing down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to her own frigid temperature. Each touch left a trail of heat, like embers on ice.

“Your eyes…they’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

“My eyes?”

“Yes. Like…a gemstone I found on the beach when I was a child. Glowing beneath the waves.”

The compliment, if it was indeed a compliment, was…odd.

But such things were irrelevant. Meaningless.

“Enough with the…poetry. Kiss me.”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“It’s what…lovers do.”

“Louis, unlike my sister, I’m not your…”

He cut her off with a kiss, his lips pressing firmly against hers.

She closed her eyes, as instructed, expecting…nothing.

And then, his tongue slipped between her lips, a surprisingly…intimate gesture.

She instinctively recoiled, but his arm tightened around her waist, his other hand cupping the back of her neck, holding her captive.

“Mmm…”

Her hands fluttered against his chest, then settled there, her fingers clenching and unclenching, a strange, involuntary twitch.

As their tongues intertwined, a warmth spread through her, a purely physiological response, unrelated to any…emotion.

“Wait…”

He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, her breasts pressed against his chest, the heat radiating from him almost…overwhelming.

She kept her eyes closed, as instructed, a strange sense of…obedience…settling over her.

And then, she found herself…yielding, allowing him to explore, to dominate, his tongue tracing the sensitive contours of her mouth.

A strange, almost primal sensation, like being…prey.

But she couldn’t…resist.

Her breath hitched, her body trembling against his. A faint flicker of…pleasure…ignited within her, unexpected, unwelcome.

“Ah. There she is.”

He finally broke the kiss, his gaze shifting past her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice laced with…concern?

“…Hiccup.”

Esther sat there, her lips still parted, her mind…blank.