Perspectives and concerns

The blonde braid of Alisha's hair swung lightly before the buxom woman caught it with a light motion. Twisting the strands between her fingers lightly, she hummed a note only known to herself as she strode down a road in Weydan.

The crispy yet fresh air filled her lungs, carrying the wet scent of Cis. Stopping on the bridge atop the river, Alisha let herself watch the water flow below her. Her previous thoughts faded, replaced by the all-encompassing melody of the current. Her amber eyes seemed to defocus, but her attention was at its sharpest. Alisha did relish being near Weydan's only river, no matter the time of day or season. It reminded her of a river going through her hometown of Gres, a large city in the Riverut Empire. Something about it always brought immense calm and peace to her mind, like just staying near would whisk all her problems away.

She tugged at her robe almost instinctively before leaning forward on the stone support. Still humming quietly, she ignored the world, knowing she still had ample time before she had to go to the Academy building visible in the distance.

'Thursday.' she mused. 'Plenty of Magic Theory with Professor Riven, but then, it will be a pretty empty schedule for me.' she formed a gentle smile at the thought. 'Nothing like the third year.'

A slightly unpleasant remembrance of the last year surfaced, where she'd be nearly overrun with the sheer amount of lectures. From a class about the history of magic to the casting practice, and then some others would fill up her time throughout her third year at the institution. She'd leave her home at dawn, only to return just a smidge before dusk on some days. Compared to that, her final year was almost empty.

'I suppose my class is also to thank for.' she mused. Truly, rather than a Mage, she was a Rune Mage. Despite having similar names, the classes had vastly different inner workings - one used magic inherently while the other inscribed it. The former had the support of their skills and stat screens, but not the latter. People like Alisha had to use their imagination to its fullest. She could still remember many sleepless nights she'd had, memorizing all the different runes and studying the hand movements to trace them properly. It was an effort that solidified just how different she was from a regular Mage. And because of that, her final-year curriculum was mercifully sparse.

A sharp voice jolted her from her thoughts.

"Oi, Ali!" Dorothea's vivid and rough tone sounded with its usual aggressiveness.

The Rune Mage's smile widened as she turned her attention toward the source. From the direction of the Ureliar district, she saw her two friends come, both clad in similar robes to hers although tailored to their different frames.

"Hey, Dory," Alisha greeted, nodding toward her friend before shifting her focus to Arand. "Hey, Arand."

"Hey, Alisha," the tall man answered. His dark skin glistened faintly as he formed a benign smile not dissimilar to Alisha's. "Watching Cis as usual?"

The Rune Mage nodded. "You're up earlier than usual, on the flip side. Got business in the Academy?"

"Ya," the redhead confirmed. "Prof Dopelar orders. Somethin' 'bout practice runs on spells. A load o' bull, ah tell ya. Ah'm an Alchemist, not no Mage."

Alisha giggled, understanding the Melidan woman's reaction. 'Dory has always been the type to stay up late and wake even later. Professor Rupert must be throwing her habits on their head.' she mused as the two leaned on the bridge's barrier as well.

"What about you, Arand?"

"I talked with my practice teacher yesterday. He said I can do my Friday training on Thursdays. I won't have to worry about having my second term empty tomorrow," he shrugged. Although his countenance was neutral, Alisha could tell there was subtle smugness in his tone.

Alisha smiled in response. For a few protracted seconds, the trio stayed in complete silence, all watching the river below them flow.

That, however, was cut short by the redhead.

"Aight, time ta get movin’," she announced, tugging Arand forward by the hand. "Or ah’ll be runnin’ late. You comin’, Ali?"

"Of course," Alisha replied, falling into step beside them.

The city of Weydan stirred around them, its streets coming to life with the rhythm of the morning. The tall structure of the buildings around them stood strong, stone and lumber intertwined in an intricate pattern that could withstand even the harshest weather. The sun reflected off the window panes all around, creating a myriad of tiny, sharp lines all around.

"Quite refreshing, today is," Arand commented. "I wonder how badly will the sun be frying us later."

His girlfriend snorted. "Eh. Ain’t like ya big oaf ain't been through worse."

"Oi," he answered, elbowing Dorothea gently. "You don't have to run in this weather. I'll be sweating buckets."

"Ah didn't pick yer curriculum," the redhead shrugged. "Blame yerself fer tryin' ta be a swordsman in a magic academy."

Alisha giggled, hearing the two begin to bicker. Dorothea, in particular, had always been the type to not hide any snarky remarks she held. In her memories, the buxom blonde could still remember the time they had first met, more than a year ago, during one of the first meetings of the alchemical research group.

'My, has it been a year already?' she briefly pondered. 'Time sure flies.'

Alisha focused on the Melidan woman. Yet, summoning her memories, Dorothea had hardly changed since back then. She was barely an initiate in the group back then, yet she didn't filter her feisty personality, and that remained true now. Even though her intentions were rarely malicious, she did not paint the best impression of herself to anyone. Yet, she and Alisha found a certain balance almost immediately. The Rune Mage had a gentle, motherly approach to their newest member, which counteracted Dorothea's often fiery attitude. She'd engage her in simple games, be it cards or chess, and through that, they would get acquainted better. Along the way, Arand had come to the group as well. Where Alisha quelled Dorothea's approach, Arand was usually the one to take it on instead, letting her blow some steam off together with him. In a way, the Rune Mage could not help but feel that their personalities perfectly aligned. Maybe that was why they hit it off so quickly.

'Oh well.' Alisha sighed, regaining her focus as they approached the Academy. 'What's important is that they ultimately agree with one another.'

Noticing that the two had stopped their short argument, she chimed in, "Well, we're here," she said as they stopped a few paces away from the Academy's main door. "Another day in this place."

"Aye," Dory nodded. "Ye havin' a meetin' with Lucas today, eh, Ali?" she inquired.

"Yes, around noon. We'll be in the library."

"Good thing we met you beforehand, then," Arand said, rummaging in a pocket. He handed a small booklet to the blonde. "We did some research yesterday."

"My," Alisha's eyes widened as she accepted. "Thank you. You didn't have to," 'This looks like at least a few pages... they must've stayed up late.'

"It's nothing. Dory had to do a few repetitions of her studies anyway, so this was a nice break for us."

"I see. Well, on that note, good luck with Professor Dopelar, Dory," Alisha said, giving the Melidan woman a gentle nod and a benign smile.

The redhead nodded, her expression unfaltering. "Ye too, Ali. Don't kill yerself, Arand," she said toward her boyfriend before giving him a fistbump. "Ah need ye in condition later," she added with a wink.

"Will do, ye small menace," the large man chuckled.

Within seconds, the Melidan woman went toward the Academy. Fishing out her student's card from a pocket, she greeted the guards lightly, soon disappearing from their vision.

"Well, I should also be going," Arand broke the momentary silence. "Greet Lucas from both of us, alright?"

"Sure thing," Alisha smiled tenderly. "Don't overexert yourself."

"I'll do my best," the tall Ureliar man smiled before going away. Passing by a few people on the way, he was soon out of Alisha's vision, headed toward the swordsmanship faculty.

The voluptuous blonde breathed in and then out shallowly. Taking in the warming air of the city, she barely registered any unpleasant smells, most of them drowned out by her faint flowery perfumes. She looked at the imposing building before her, her amber eyes shining.

'My last year.' Alisha thought, feeling her heart suddenly weigh down a little. 'It's a shame. I really enjoyed my time here.' she mused, thinking of everything that's happened across the years. To think that in just some months, she would leave it all behind and return to Gres... Alisha couldn't help but think of her family. The image of her parents and two younger siblings was clear. 'They will soon be of age to attend the Academy as well.' she smiled. She could already imagine it happening. 'Not that long ago, I showed them what rune magic is, and now they're going to practice it here... gah, time really flies.' she thought, summoning a bit of magic. Tracing a tiny, uncomplicated symbol on her skin, she felt it soon simmering some heat into her body. It was the first rune she'd ever learned, allowing her to heat things with mana. She could still remember the long hours she had spent learning just this much. It felt somewhat insignificant, now that she knew so many more.

She chuckled. Yes, she was going to miss this place. But that was a concern for the future. Now, she still had time before her next classes.

But just as she took a step forward, something stopped her.

A strange feeling quaked her fingers.

It was a quiet, pulsing tremor surging through her mana core like a distant bell ringing within her abdomen.

Alisha stilled. Her amber eyes squinted as she turned around.

'I don't recall using much magic outside lately...?'

Alisha gathered some more mana, fueling her rune. Her hand felt as though she dipped it in mildly hot water. However, the displeasure from that was entirely unnoticed. Instead, she focused on her senses.

And she immediately got an answer.

Her eyes snapped toward a single place. Quickly stepping forward, she found the source to be a small mana stone, installed in the ground right next to a nearby building, protruding barely two centimeters above the surrounding cobble. Studying it for a long moment, Alisha could only hum.

'...An inscribed mana stone in here...?' she squinted, confusion surging. 'And it's not the only one...' she conceded, feeling another few signatures in the nearby area. She could tell they were spaced slightly apart, a couple of meters between each one. Crouching, the buxom blonde studied the one in front of her. 'This is a barrier inscription. Given the placement, it's almost like they are circling the Academy... intriguing.' she got a hand to her chin. It didn't make sense for this item to be here... did it? 'I'm around 3rd-circle in strength, so it's difficult to gauge properly, but...' she reached out to the stone. Touching it gently, she felt its power compared to her own. 'This is at least on the 5th-circle level, possibly 6th... a refined mana stone this good is difficult to get. I only ever use up to 2nd-circle. I wonder, what's this doing here...? Was it placed here by the surveyors going around lately...?'

Alisha shook her head, standing up and turning to the Academy.

'No, that shouldn't be. This type of material is expensive. Perhaps the headmaster has decided to expand the Academy's barrier system... maybe I can ask professor Schweizer about it if I meet her.'

-Meanwhile-

Lucas's hair shuffled between his fingers as he scratched his scalp. He looked to the horizon briefly, noting the sun's position between Weydan's buildings. Then, his eyes traveled down to a small ball of fur trekking a few steps ahead of him.

'To think this little guy is the one to thank for Seraphina and me meeting so easily...' he almost hummed at the thought, a remembrance of yesterday's meeting crossing his mind.

The first thing about Cileres that caught Lucas off guard was the fact that he could speak. That was something that Lucas did not expect in the slightest. He knew that some spirits could communicate, but he did not think the familiar of someone who had classed barely a year ago would already be on that level. Then again, the cat in front of him was not just a simple summon. Familiars were special entities, bound by contract, not just the Spiritualist's mana.

But Lucas threw the musings out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the tall tower of the Academy they approached. Its massive frame cast a prolonged shadow, only further accentuated by the diminutive size of the surrounding buildings. Lucas never stopped being impressed by the contrast.

He hummed, halting and looking at the duo of Enforcers standing by the massive front door. Cileres appeared to sense the shift immediately, jumping up into his hands.

"=Quite an impressive structure,=" the cat spoke, his voice lax yet quiet enough not to let anyone hear. "=Etnal is indeed a country unlike Inallel. More rough yet sturdier just by a glance.="

Lucas sighed lightly. He'd only read about Inallel's architecture in books and seen it in occasional paintings, but he could easily picture it in his mind. Its fleeting and naturalistic style was the complete opposite of Etnal's rigidity.

"=The Academy is the pinnacle of Etnal engineering,=" he commented softly, keeping his tone down so as not to appear strange to any onlookers. "=It was founded by Ylla after the Western Sweep, yet still stands strong. A literal fortress if need be.="

"=So I see,=" Cileres appeared to almost nod before he shuffled in Lucas's hands. "=Well, thank you for bringing me along, human. I shall venture into the city for the time being. No need to worry about me from this point onward. I'll come to meet you when you will be leaving.="

Lucas nodded, though his face showed a frown as his gaze met the cat's.

"=That being said, how will you even find me? You won't be sitting around, so that feels a little strange to me.="

"=Hmm... how should I put it...=" Cileres took a long second to think. "=Have you ever heard of the astral plane?="

"=That's where the spirits are born,=" the white-haired Stormrider answered. "=Created by Frenedel, the God of Spirits, long before the spirit kings descended upon our world. It's maintained by Vitton and Clinse, twin gods of Fate and Chance.="

Cileres almost chuckled. "=Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised you know of that. That is correct. Together with the Goddess of Dreams, Thines, they form the main framework of the cosmic plane. Through their power, us spirits and you, the beings of this plane, can communicate and use one another's powers, by using something called 'Willpower'. You've probably heard of Psions, no? They are the masters of using their Willpower like Mages use mana.="

Lucas nodded. However, a sour feeling rose in his spirit at the mention of the goddess. For some reason, it was like there was a faint ****, or perhaps disgust, when he reminded himself of her golden eyes.

"=Willpower, however, is not innate only to those who can control it. Everyone has some Willpower in them, just like they have mana. And because of that, it's possible to find someone by knowing theirs. It's like when Mages can feel one another's power.="

"=So... you'll find me because you know what my Willpower feels like?="

"=In essence, yes,=" the cat's ear moved as though it wanted to nod. "=Now, if you don't have any further questions, I shall use the time I'm given.="

As Lucas shook his head, Cileres suddenly jumped out of his hands. With barely a second taken to gaze back at the man, the black cat leaped on a nearby wall and scaled it effortlessly, searching for a vantage point.

Lucas sighed lightly as the spirit went out of his vision.

'It feels bitter...' he frowned, fixing up his robe. Shooting one last glance around, he confirmed that nobody seemed the wiser to him having just spoken to a cat, the few heads that went back and forth barely even sparing him a glance. 'Well, I should be going as well.'

Stepping inside the Academy, Lucas immediately felt the atmosphere change. The warm and crispy air turned slightly stale, albeit not unpleasant. The outside's rumbling quieted down, giving way to echoes of chatter and steps. Wherever he looked, people dressed in robes like his came and went, some standing by classrooms while others ventured to their destinations.

Lucas joined in the movement immediately. Recalling where his lectures were supposed to take place, he skittered, realizing he didn't have forever left.

However, as he turned the second or third corner, a voice suddenly called out.

"Lucas!"

Illan's voice, as unpleasant to his ears as ever, pierced the otherwise calm air. Lucas felt his mind sour, the faint sensation of dread and anger lurking beneath his skin. In the far corner of his mind, he could feel a similar displeasure flare up.

"Illan," his gaze turned to meet Illan's as the Breshnaw man approached. "What are you doing here?" 'He might be a student at the Academy as well, but I'm pretty sure his schedule is in another part of the building...'

"What a cold shoulder you're showing, my dear brother-in-law," Illan chuckled. "I'm just seeing my sister off at her class."

Lucas's eyes wandered behind the shorter man. He could see the thick, ink-black braid belonging to Ester resting on her pronounced chest. Her similarly dark eyes looked at him briefly before she averted staring, silently standing two steps away.

'I see... he's putting on a show, is he?' Lucas almost snorted internally. To think this man, who just a week ago had a devilish smirk while delivering a punch to his face, was now smiling almost demurely. 'It's frankly ridiculous how easily this guy changes his attitude...'

"I see," the white-haired man nodded before stepping away, intent on leaving them behind.

His intentions, however, were seen through.

"Since you're both in the same class, let's go together," Illan said, his lingering gaze telling Lucas that denying him was not a possibility he'd take lightly.

'If it's him, he'll go out of his way just to pick a bone with me...' thought Lucas before reluctantly nodding. His gaze escaped to Ester, who appeared to not be looking at him at all. 'I wish I could just... do something to him, but...' he grimaced inwardly. If he were alone, he would've considered getting Illan somewhere and hypnotizing him, making the man leave him alone thereafter. However, two big points could be made against it. One was, that Illan was not alone. Two, however, was even more important. 'Academy has surveillance systems in corridors and classrooms. If I use Astral Projection, it just looks like I'm sleeping, but hypnotizing someone would be an obvious giveaway that something is wrong with me.' he thought sourly. The best he could do was just take the situation as it was.

The trio almost immediately resumed their journey.

"Say," Illan started as they turned another corner. "You know about the guests you're having, right?"

"...and?" Lucas responded dryly, not intent on engaging in pointless bickering. 'He's just trying to lord over you, Lucas...' he berated himself in his spirit.

"You haven't seen them, have you?"

"...no."

Illan chuckled, driving his elbow into Lucas's side. "Such a shame. Princess Seraphina is quite the charming lady, you see. I'm sure you'd recognize such if you ever saw her."

'Yes, I agree.' Lucas conceded in his thoughts whilst nodding. 'Whoever she chooses to marry will be a very happy man.' he almost smiled but managed to control his expression. "I see."

"I'm very sorry you didn't meet her," Illan said, his voice sounding sincere. Lucas, however, knew the underlying mockery all too well. "Perhaps she'd show you as much interest as she showed me?"

"Interest?" Lucas's brow raised as he looked at the brown-haired man. 'This guy... don't tell me he thought she was attracted to him?' he pondered, feeling a chuckle from deep within his stomach threaten to rise. Similarly, the voice in the back of his mind reacted with faint laughter.

"She was quite the sweet conversationalist. We exchanged so much information, it feels like I've known her for years now."

Suddenly, Lucas snickered, if only for a split second. Immediately, he grunted, trying to hide his reaction.

'Oh, just wait until I tell Seraphina this. She'll cry of laughter.'

"What's so funny, Lucas?" Illan asked. His tone shifted slightly, almost sounding like a warning.

'You making a clown of yourself.' Lucas fought not to speak his mind. Instead, he shrugged. "It's nothing. I just thought of something funny."

Illan hummed briefly. Lucas expected some kind of a remark, but as a few seconds passed, nothing came his way. Stealing a glance, Lucas was reminded of the third person walking with them.

'I see. He's restraining himself because Ester is around... I guess this explains why she was nice to me the other day. She's really not aware of my relationship with him...'

But he didn't brood for long. Rather, as he noticed the group of students from his year sitting on some benches in the corridor, he felt relief wash over him. This meant that his meeting with Illan, however brief, was just about over.

The Breshnaw man chuckled as they stopped next to the door, in the middle of the group.

"Take care, Ester," he smiled at the black-haired woman, his hand reaching out and gently touching her shoulder.

Ester responded with a light nod. "Good luck in your studies, Illan," she said calmly before taking a few steps away, leaving the two.

"You too, Lucas," Illan continued, his rugged hand finding its way to Lucas's shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," he responded hastily, lightly struggling out of the man's hold. "Bye, Illan," he added, sensing stares of his peers. As he shot a glance, they averted their gazes, but he knew the covertness of their action.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll see each other again later. I'm visiting your home today."

"Oh?" Lucas almost frowned. 'Already? Why do I feel he's trying to catch Seraphina's tail now...?'

"Well, you're probably not aware because you spend so much of your time away from others. After all," Illan said, his voice slightly increasing in volume. "you're the only Classless Stormrider."

"...what?" Lucas instinctively asked. His heart sunk in his chest briefly as he realized what was happening.

"I mean, I'm very sorry for you. It must be difficult being here, all on your own without a class," Illan spoke a tinge louder than his regular speech. However, Lucas knew well that with how many people would currently pay attention to them, this volume was more than enough.

'This bastard... so that's his play...' thought Lucas, his fist nearly clenching. 'He realized I'm laughing at him.'

He shot a glare at Illan. The stare of his amethyst eyes met the amused look within the man's brown orbs.

"What's with that stare, my dear Lucas? Am I wrong?" he asked almost daringly. "I mean, if you classed since I last saw you, feel free to show me."

Lucas felt anger surge within him further, his fist clenching briefly. He wanted to do something. He sincerely wished they were not in the Academy right now. Albeit he might've taken a hit or two, Illan was ultimately alone, and therefore, hypnotizing him was not out of the question. And for once, Lucas wouldn't feel bad about doing it.

However, this situation was anything but favorable. Therefore, he didn't even voice a response, instead exhaling deeply. Truth be told, he couldn't do anything, much as he wanted.

Illan immediately recognized this reaction and leaned in.

"I do sincerely hope you awaken your talent eventually. I'd hate to have a talentless brother-in-law. Take care, Lucas."

And then, without a word more spoken, Illan turned on his heels, taking his steps away, a grin etched onto his mouth.

...

The ineligible murmur of his peers was difficult to make out, but it was simply impossible to ignore.

Lucas stood in one spot for a few protracted seconds, his mind almost frozen.

He knew it was bound to happen. It was obvious that his official Classless status would be revealed sooner or later. He knew it was a futile hope to think that he could hide it. However, it didn't stop it from feeling sour.

Activating Keen Senses, he could confirm his suspicions.

"Is he really Classless?"

"I mean, wouldn't he show a proof of his class if he did have it?"

"But how did he pass the entrance tests? Did he cheat his way in?"

"Doesn't that mean he's about as strong as a regular civilian?"

Lucas felt a cold shiver go down his spine, like a river of icy droplets. The stare of numerous eyes was now aimed at him. He felt like a star of a circus show.

-Meanwhile-

Ophelia looked in the mirror. The stare of her icy blue eyes reflected on the mirror's surface was as neutral as ever. If she saw this look on anyone else, she'd have said the other party was completely emotionless. On her, however, it signaled multiple feelings, depending on the situation. The current state of her mind was faint contemplation.

She exhaled deeply. Taking a look around her room, she confirmed it to be empty. Some books lay on a nearby table, one open, its pages filled with text she'd been reading deep into the night. Sacrificing some rest, she **** herself to refresh her memory of it to the best of her ability. Albeit she didn't reduce her sleep hours by even a third, the yawn that escaped her mouth was telling of her need to still sleep some more. It was the reason she woke up later than usual, after all.

Her hand ascended her underwear-clad form. She traced the line of her full hips, narrow waist, and abundant breasts, feeling the subtle yet telling shifts between every nook and crevice. A tingle ran down her spine, goosebumps appearing.

She nudged her panties, tugging them slightly higher. The light gray material rubbed against her pussy lips tentatively. Instinctively, she shuddered, sitting on her bed.

'Something feels off today.'

A thought surged within her mind as she felt her shoulders. They felt a little less stiff than usual. Looking at herself in more detail, Ophelia shifted her pose once or twice, crossing her legs and doing her best to look more presentable. However, the jostle of her huge breasts was all her eyes were drawn to.

She looked at her assets, studying the deep crack of cleavage parting the monumental masses constrained by the large, gray bra. Ophelia almost scoffed at the sight. On a regular woman, even one cup would be enough for both teats. Then again, regular women didn't have breasts larger than a ripe melon each.

A low hum escaped her mouth. Slowly, she raised a hand, tracing the material. She felt it shift underneath her fingers, the cloth suddenly giving way to the warm expanse of her chest. And then, she slowly closed her hand.

She frowned. Briefly, she increased the strength of her caress before suddenly releasing the tit. It jiggled with vigor in response, ripples traveling across its surface.

But Ophelia was just getting started. Firmly grasping the underside of the bra, she pulled it upward. After a long second, her breasts broke free from the garment, slapping against her torso with a vivid jiggle.

She raised a hand, tracing the delicate skin and approaching her destination. Her large, pink areolas, each nearly the size of her palm, protruded faintly, their soft puffiness evident as she pressed into them lightly. The touching sensation spiked in her mind, albeit it didn't feel too pleasurable. It was just random touches, after all.

But then, as she approached her somewhat large yet soft nipples, something shifted.

'Why did it feel so different...?'

Her mind replayed the events of yesterday. The memory felt a tinge muddy but she could easily recall her spiking heartbeat. The electric current running up her spine and down her hand was also unforgettable.

She sunk her hand into her chest. Fondling her breast for a prolonged moment, Ophelia kept on thinking.

She had been very aware of her chest since it began developing. She knew well how it enticed most, either with arousal or jealousy, but she was always disgusted by it. Envy surged in her spirit at the thought of Aveline, who didn't have to worry about being torn apart by stares. She could recall Illan's wolfish stare that threatened to swallow her whole, starting from her generously endowed globes. Princess Seraphina's stare was also difficult to purge. Ophelia's frown deepened. Looking at herself in the mirror, she watched her massive teat be distorted by her hand. Her nipple dragged across her palm before she lightly twitched it but to no reaction. It had always been like this.

But then, she recalled the person who was with her yesterday.

'Lucas.'

Almost immediately, she felt her body respond to the memory. The stare of his amethyst eyes that scaled her body. The hands that graced her stiff shoulders. As her brother got seemingly lost in the deep valley of her cleavage, Ophelia could feel something stir in her.

She followed the rules. It was the obvious thing to do. Lucas set up his own rules in the room he owned, so she should listen to them, too, even if only in there. Rules were made to be followed.

The first one stated she should not be sweaty. The second one said that she should shed her dress since it was also drenched, and that it was alright. Therefore, she did not hesitate. She could still feel the chill of air against her skin as it pooled by her feet.

The third rule noted it was alright if Lucas looked at her, no matter where. And while deep down, she knew she'd be disgusted if it were anyone else, with her brother... she somehow felt at ease.

Ophelia felt her nipple slowly harden, lengthening and pushing against her palm. The electrifying sensation of pleasure came back to her when she thought of how Lucas studied her in detail. Even if he tried to avert his gaze, it was useless. Like anyone, his gaze inadvertently landed on her huge breasts. And the silver-haired woman couldn't help but feel... a little proud. Somewhere, deep in her mind, lurked a small thought. She enjoyed being stared at by her brother. She wanted to present herself to him better.

Her hand moved with a little more fervor as she closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling. Squeezing and pulling, kneading and handling the abundant boob, Ophelia felt her heart beat at an increasing pace. She raised her other hand to join in. Her breathing quickened as she felt the pleasure of the contact increase. The flush atop her massive globes was now prominent, and her nipples scraped her palms, adding to the stimulation. Her pussy pulsed.

In her mind's eye, she could feel as though the hands fondling her tits were not her own. They were larger, sturdier, and pressed with more strength and dexterity. She could faintly picture the man's shape. His white hair that was like the cleanest snow. His violet eyes that sparkled like gems.

Ophelia gasped softly.

"...Lucas..." she whispered.

Suddenly, as she realized what just happened, her motions halted. Snapping her hands away from her chest, the busty woman took a few steadying breaths.

Ophelia focused on the mirror once more.

Her massive breasts heaved up and down with every breath, healthy pink transitioning to faint red that matched her slightly flushed cheeks. Her areolas seemed to puff up slightly. Her large nipples were fully erect, protruding from her chest like tiny thumbs. She felt the air of her warm breaths caress them, sending newfound jolts of electricity down her spine.

It was wrong. She shouldn't be considering this. She never felt anything like this when thinking of Illan. Then why... why couldn't she throw the image of Lucas from her mind? Why did the thought of him staring at her fill her up with warmth? Why did she want to feel his touch on her again? Why did she faintly hope that the request she owed him would pertain to seeing her in only her underwear again?

She swallowed some lingering saliva.

Ophelia lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her boobs moved heavily, their momentum palpable. Doing her best to ignore it, Ophelia's mind raced for impossible answers. It didn't make sense to her to feel like this about Lucas of all people. He was her brother, for crying out loud. She could see herself thinking this way about another man - perhaps even Illan, if he were to fix up his attitude - but not Lucas. Yet, her state just now seemed to indicate otherwise.

'...I don't get it...' she mused, tracing imaginary lines on the fine, smooth ceiling. Her body pulsed, from her toes on the ground, through her pussy, to the light curling of her fingers, to the steady beat of her heart.

A long minute passed. The silence of her room was only broken by her soft breaths. The silver-haired woman slowly turned to her side, feeling her breasts sway with heft, reminding their owner of their presence.

'Why...?' she asked herself once again, slowly tracing a circle on her puffy areola. 'I mean... it's alright if there's contact between us in his room... but...' she continued her ponder, slowly approaching her nipple. Putting it between her thumb and index finger, she lightly tweaked it. '...but why am I thinking of him like this...?' she thought, pulling slightly stronger and eliciting a short gasp. These thoughts were perverse. They were so wrong... but at the same time, they were so right.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"!" Ophelia instinctively reacted, shooting up to a sitting position. With a hasty movement, she pulled her bra downward, hefting up her breasts into the cups. "Who is it?" she voiced mid-motion.

"Lady Ophelia, it's Miri," she heard the voice of the maid who always strutted around Ismeria. "I came to help with your hair. May I come in?"

"One moment," she responded quickly, grabbing her dress for today. Its brilliantly silver color accentuated her hair nicely. Standing up, she quickly wore it, letting the material fall over her body with grace. It ended just above her ankles. "Come in."

The door immediately opened. The brown-haired maid who stepped in greeted the female Stormrider with a deep nod before closing the door. In her hands, a small bottle of perfume was visible - no doubt given to her by Ismeria from her special collection.

Miri barely even reacted as Ophelia shuffled on her feet, pulling back a chair. Slowly sitting down in front of her mirror, she exchanged a glance with the brown-haired maid.

There was almost complete silence as Miri grabbed a brush and began to brush the cascade of silver hair.

"Any particular style you'd like today, Lady Ophelia?" Miri asked, her eyes almost glimmering as she met Ophelia's gaze in the mirror. "Today, your fiance is coming," she added, almost as if sounding a suggestion to choose some particular style.

"...let's go with a bun," the words left her mouth, but she couldn't help but feel as though they were empty and fanciful. She only picked this hairstyle because she knew Illan liked it. If it were up to her, she'd go with a braid or let her hair loose.

Miri wasted no time, her movements speeding up. Ophelia looked at her reflection in the mirror, seeing the emptiness of her gaze. However, as she felt the maid spray her hair with some perfume and begin forming the bun, a new thought crept into her mind.

'...that elf maid, Nimue, usually has her hair untied completely... I wonder if Lucas likes that hairstyle...?'

Suddenly, she flinched, realizing the direction of her thoughts.

"Is something the matter?" Miri asked, halting.

"...it's nothing," Ophelia answered. "Illan will be here in about two hours, correct?"

"Yes, Lady Ophelia," the maid answered, resuming immediately. "He has one lecture in the morning today, and then he will come here immediately, as I've been told."

Ophelia hummed and closed her eyes.

'He probably wants to meet Princess Seraphina again.' she mused silently for protracted moments. As Miri added some more perfume to her hair, she felt its pleasant scent fill her lungs. 'But since she isn't put off by him, it's a chance for me as well.' she noted. 'I wonder if he'll stay for dinner today.'

Almost complete silence ensued. Miri kept on working on Ophelia's hair, adding finishing touches, while the silver-haired woman did her best to clear her mind of useless thoughts. She would soon be meeting her fiance, after all.

However, that would prove to be a problem without an easy solution.

Every time she moved, her panties tenderly rubbed against her pussy, a darkened spot on them reminding her of its origin.

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