Maur had long known this about his Forest Fey teacher: to other students, she seemed elegant and courteous—merely reserved. But beneath that polished facade lay not patience, but infuriating arrogance and dominance.
Yet even knowing this, he never imagined she’d shed all pretense and wield such overwhelming force.
“Get lost, you pervert! Can’t you understand me? I’d never do this with you! Get away! Do you hear me? Ge—mmph!”
...
The lunch bell finally interrupted her advances.
“Not cursing anymore?” Evelyn looked down at her flushed, trembling student, lips pressed tight. “Your body’s been shaking since just now… and suddenly quiet.”
“Why?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
If he didn’t bite his lip hard, shameful sounds would escape. Maur would’ve screamed curses at the perverted Fey—but he couldn’t.
He’d hit a breaking point. One wrong move, and all his restraint would shatter.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The Forest Fey awaited his reply with quiet curiosity. Though she’d never studied human intimacy, Evelyn’s sharp memory gave her basic knowledge. Clearly, it wasn’t enough. Her attempts had failed.
*Try harder?*
She shifted slightly.
Maur let out a sharp whimper. His body trembled, then froze.
His eyes glazed over for a heartbeat. Strength vanished. He slumped onto the lesson-prep desk.
“Ugh!” Shame flared—then drowned in white-hot rage.
“You pervert! Bastard! Let me go! I want to go home! Get off me!”
Vines summoned by Evelyn coiled tightly around his limbs. The power gap left him utterly helpless.
Seated yet looming, Evelyn cast a shadow that felt suffocating.
“Was I not good enough? Didn’t it feel… pleasant?”
“Absolutely terrible! Not a single bit of pleasure, understand? NONE!” Maur lied without hesitation. “Any human would do better! Even a swamp monster!”
“Really?” Evelyn leaned close, studying his face. “No. Saying it wasn’t pleasant… that’s a lie.”
“Maur, deceiving your teacher again?”
A novice here, a legend in magic—Evelyn trusted her lie-detection spell.
*But the rest was true.*
She truly was still learning.
Maur watched her fall into thought. Then—a sweet, cloying scent filled the air.
His eyes snapped to the vines. Emerald strands thickened. New branches sprouted, bearing strange blooms: part flower, part fruit.
“This is nutmeg,” Evelyn explained patiently. “Its blossoms stir excitement and joy in humans.”
Before he could react, she added: “The fruit restores stamina. Human endurance is fragile. External aid helps maintain… activity.”
*Plenty of time remains.*
Her own body felt strangely altered—clearly tied to him. She needed answers.
A vine guided a nutmeg fruit to his lips. A silent offer.
“Argh! You damn pervert Fey! What is this?! I won’t eat it! Take it away! Let me go! If you don’t— I’ll… I’ll…”
Maur choked.
Evelyn had no known weaknesses. None he could exploit.
“Never! I’ll never eat it! Give up, you perverted bastard!”
*Just hold on. By evening, Violet County Manor will notice their young master missing. Then I’ll escape.*
Frustrated, the teacher summoned a familiar.
A Colorfeather Sparrow—vibrant red, yellow, blue, green feathers, black tail—chirped melodiously, circling Evelyn.
“Deliver this to Violet County Manor.”
Magic swirled. A note formed. The clever sparrow snatched it, glanced curiously at bound Maur, circled once, and flew out the reopened window.
The window shut. Light vanished. Darkness returned.
“Student Maur remains for special tutoring due to failing exams,” Evelyn stated with solemn righteousness. “For at least a week, Violet County Manor will believe instruction is proceeding normally. This is the teacher’s legitimate right.”
Maur: “...”
Shameless! How utterly shameless this Forest Fey was!!!
Straining against the vines, he tried to lunge and bite her.
“You perverted bastard! Untie me! I challenge you to a duel! Hear me? A DUEL!”
Ignoring his outburst, Evelyn stroked his head soothingly, voice dropping into a tone she recalled from human lovers:
“You lost your last hope of escape… because I am your teacher.”
“But I have things I don’t understand. If you teach me, Maur… you become *my* teacher.”
“Then… you may command me.”
“You can command me… to let you go.”
While he hesitated, Evelyn discreetly crushed the nutmeg fruit. Rose-red juice filled a wooden cup smelling of herbs and wood.
*“If they refuse the fruit, crush it to juice. Pour it down their throat when off guard.”*
She brought the cup to his parched lips.
“Here. Drink.”
“Oh.”
Her gesture, her tone—so like Daina, his devoted maid—he instinctively opened his mouth. Evelyn tilted his chin. Gulps. The cup emptied.
“Cough! Cough-cough! D-damn you! What—?!”
Tears welled from choking. Eyes blazing, he glared at her—then froze.
Heat flooded his body.
...
—And once again, the Forest Fey pushed him back onto the lesson-prep desk.
