I Married the Beautiful Female Protagonist In Order To Survive

42. Let’s Play Dou Dizhu Together (Seeking Tickets~)

After today’s practical course ended, rumors about Henriette IV had already spread throughout the academy. Everyone was chattering about how talented, how strong this new “young lady” was, young and promising, with a future ahead, and definitely a real opponent who could rival Flora or even Moriarty.

Although some people mentioned Zelora, who had surprised everyone at the time, they all seemed to be afraid of something, tacitly forgetting that this troublemaker could actually go back and forth with Henriette IV. All that was left for Zelora was ridicule and scorn, because everyone knew: this guy definitely wanted to show off in front of Flora, wanted to act cool, but the sycophant didn’t succeed, and even screwed up completely, haha! Who gave him the confidence? He’s so puffed up!

However, what no one knew was: after school at the academy today, in an empty classroom, this “sycophant who failed to act cool,” as everyone called him, was enjoying the personal care of the “white swan” Flora, as they called her.

At this moment, Flora was alone with Zelora in the empty classroom, personally tending to the injuries and swelling on Zelora’s face. Without the prying eyes of other students, the look of heartache in Flora’s eyes was no longer concealed.

Of course, heartache was heartache, but she couldn’t let Zelora off the hook with her words.

Fiora dabbed a cotton swab on Zerola’s cheek, watching him wince and yelp in pain, the smile never quite leaving his face.

“Why didn’t you dodge? Were you just itching for Henri IV to smash all your teeth in? Imagine the gossip, not even old and already needing dentures, wouldn’t you be embarrassed?”

“Heh heh… Ow…” Zerola’s face was a mix of crying and laughing, half from the pain, half from glee. “You saw through it, huh? Makes it easy, then: if I didn’t get knocked pretty, how would Henri IV get to show off?”

Letting Henri IV “flex his muscles, draw out the earlier attackers” was Zerola’s, and Henri IV’s, fundamental objective for today. Although that girl had mixed in some personal agenda, wanting to put Fiora in her place, Zerola couldn’t hold it against her. A real man doesn’t hold a grudge. If he’d gotten competitive, insisting on fighting to a draw, his actions would be no different than a “lapdog trying to impress, trying to show off,” as others might say. As long as Fiora understood his intentions, that’s all that mattered.

Others… heh? Would others get the kind of treatment he was getting now?

Fiora was silent for a moment, then looked up, her eyes full of tenderness. “You really didn’t need to go that far…”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I think it was quite necessary. I told you before, right, Fiora?”

Then… words that Fiora felt she would never forget in her life rang out again, and each time she heard them, her heart would leap even higher than before.

“As long as you want, I’ll always… uh, I really do sound like a lapdog. Cough cough, anyway, if you need me to help you get through this ‘temporary loss of magic’ crisis, then of course I don’t care about losing face.”

After a pause, Zerola added, “As long as I don’t lose face in front of you.”

Losing face… wasn’t about “showing off power”…

In a rational state, that’s what Fiora would want to tell Zerola.

The problem was, Fiora didn’t feel so “rational” now. Some thoughts had already taken root and spread, and Fiora finally acted on them in this moment—she straddled Zerola’s legs, threw herself against his body, and left the next steps to her instincts. Even though Zerola did smell a little of that male “flavor” from his afternoon classes, Fiora didn’t find it particularly repulsive or off-putting in this state.

Because once some thoughts shifted, everything inside and out about the person in front of her began to attract her.

And… was Zerola really just a clown? He simply lacked a dazzling status, causing all his actions to be viewed with prejudice by the high-born students of the academy, as if everything he did was tainted from the start. The best proof was the elf Mel in the student council; that boob-obsessed woman saw through him clearly. She knew from the beginning if Zerola was “good or bad.”

Given time, Zerola would have the absolute status and power to fully display his strength and charm. Fiora thought that this man wouldn’t be much less than Henri III. This “dream,” which most ordinary people couldn’t achieve even in several generations, would take a lot of effort for Zerola. But… that’s okay.

Just as he was willing to fill her weaknesses, she was also able to use a single, irrevocable “means” to make him the focus of attention in a short time. Mutual help and support never mattered in “size” or “calculation.” He gave her everything he had to give, so she was willing to give him the “greatest help” she had to offer.

Regardless of importance, mutual consent, seemingly with extreme differences, was in fact, perfectly fair. Alas… saying “fair” seemed a little too “detached”…

Parting her lips, Fiora, cupping Zerola’s still slightly “swollen” face, whispered an invitation that she thought was quite “exquisite.”

One sentence exhausted all her courage for the day.

“Tonight… come to my place. A simple cleanse isn’t enough; later, I’ll help you ‘wipe’ more carefully.”

“…”

No response.

Having finally mustered the courage to look up, Fiora saw a silly face. Silly wasn’t quite right, because his face was full of anticipation, but… still silly.

This meant that Zerola must have understood the meaning of her words, and then…

He froze!

If she hadn’t already spent all her courage, leaving only girlish shyness and reserve, Fiora would have punched him in the head!

Are you even a man!? Under normal circumstances, sensing the shift in atmosphere, you should have been the one to bring it up! Not to mention that, even when I’m being that, that delicate about it, you still make that stupid face!? Seriously, it’s like the first time I cooked for you, a classic repeat performance, isn’t it?! You just want to embarrass me, don’t you?!

“Fiora.”

“!”

A whole torrent of thoughts surged through her mind, but when her name was called with such solemnity, Flora couldn’t help but tremble. Her face burned, a ringing filled her ears, and the frantic pounding of her heart threatened to drown out everything else! Expectation, nervousness, fear – a jumbled mess of feelings crammed together, rendering Flora incapable of thinking, incapable of acting.

“After you’ve recovered, perhaps?”

Thankfully, the next moment, his words brought a measure of relief to this turmoil.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of a ‘patient,’ it would seem like an unfair advantage.”

Or perhaps it wasn’t relief, but simply a renewed hiding of them all.

Waiting for a more ferocious eruption next time.

Flora was utterly confused.