When the Forest Fey shoved Maur into the grass, his mind went completely blank.

He’d only just woken up—his thoughts were naturally sluggish.

And Evelyn’s movements were *so* gentle. She’d even cast a spell beforehand, softening the grass until it felt softer than Maur’s own bed.

First, a kiss stole the air from his lips, leaving his brain utterly empty.

Then her hands moved skillfully downward… and further down.

“Wah!” Jolted fully awake, Maur thrashed. “No! I don’t want this! Let me go!”

He already saw the familiar vines sprouting, bearing nutmegs that stirred hazy, intimate memories.

Same old trick. This perverted Fey had zero creativity!

Would she force that awful juice down his throat again any second?!

He knew resistance was futile once the Forest Fey set her mind—but he still struggled.

“I won’t let you manipulate me!” Maur glared up at the Fey pinning him, face flushed.

Whether Mavis or Evelyn—he would not yield!

Unexpectedly, Evelyn froze.

“No.” She rose from him. “The date has only just begun. It’s not yet time for… expressing affection.”

Even the boldest students at the academy needed multiple dates before venturing into the woods.

She’d moved too fast. And they hadn’t reached the special location in her plan.

“Next: the haunted house.”

Evelyn, who treated “dating a human to understand emotion” as magical research, resolved to follow the script precisely.

Just like brewing potions—swap ingredient order or timing, and it fails. Human romance demanded the same rigor.

Failure was unacceptable to a proud legendary mage.

“Hah?! How am I supposed to enter a haunted house like *this*?!”

Evelyn had yanked him from the Violet County Manor minutes after he fell asleep—he was still in pajamas.

“I’m going home! I need to change! Take me back—*now*!” Maur snapped.

Evelyn’s gaze settled on his sleepwear.

“Wear this.”

She opened her palm. A vine segment sailed into her hand on the wind, then shifted before Maur’s eyes into a cyan mage robe.

“Blessed Robe. Permanently enchanted with Level 4 Concealment. Activated, it hides you from all below transcendent tier.”

Prepared per the date plan—needed for invisibility inside the haunted house.

A trope lifted straight from confiscated romance novels: couples slipping unseen into shadowy corners, hearts pounding with the thrill of near-discovery…

Unaware of the implication, Maur scowled. “No! Ugly. Not wearing it.”

He *hated* mage robes—clumsy, zero aesthetic sense.

“Not wearing it?” Evelyn tucked the robe away after a pause. “Fine.”

*(One must not force their lover. Evelyn… selectively observed this rule.)*

Trivial. She had hallucinogenic flora ready—students wouldn’t see through it anyway.

She scooped Maur up and leaped off Mount Sandara’s bottomless peak.

“AAAAH—!”

Too high! Too high! Like jumping a cliff!

Heart hammering, Maur squeezed his eyes shut.

After a while, the wind stilled. He peeked—floating *through* clouds.

From afar, clouds looked majestic: endless, layered, fluffy as fresh cotton.

Up close? Formless. Ethereal smoke.

Day-flight scenery held quiet charm. Maur watched, intrigued, as the Royal Capital drew near.

Then he stiffened.

“Weren’t you taking me *home*?! Why are we flying toward the academy?!”

A cold dread settled in his gut.

Evelyn’s reply was calm: “To the haunted house.”

AAAAH—he *knew* it! This perverted Fey wasn’t letting him off easy!

“No! I’m in *pajamas*! Too embarrassing! I’m going home!” He thrashed uselessly.

Unmoved, Evelyn produced the robe again.

The Divine Grace Academy loomed. Student chatter drifted up.

Maur: “….”

Public pajamas = utter humiliation.

He snatched the robe with a frustrated growl. “You damn Fey… remember this. I *will* get revenge.”

…And so, he stood before the haunted house wearing Evelyn’s Blessed Robe.

“Two tickets.” Evelyn’s tone was slightly stiff.

The ticket seller flustered. “E-E-Evelyn Teacher?!”

Seeing the reclusive Teacher Evelyn at the festival was shocking enough—but *with* the rumored Lord Maur?!

“Teacher Evelyn and… Lord Maur?!”

Heavens! Was she dreaming?!

Even as Maur trailed Evelyn inside, reluctant and scowling, the student remained frozen in disbelief.

Five minutes later, Young Master Mavis of Duke Fred’s household appeared—the very person rumored to clash with Lord Maur.

Androgynously beautiful, a black butterfly dancing between his fingers, he smiled gently. “Excuse me. Have you seen Lord Maur of the Violet Count’s household? Did he enter the haunted house?”

“Y-Yes! With Teacher Evelyn—five minutes ago! Is Senior Mavis visiting too?” The student stammered, starstruck.

So many big names already?! The festival had barely begun!

“Oh my… E-ve-lyn… Teach-er?”

Was it her imagination, or did gritted teeth hide beneath that sweet tone?

“Wonderful. One ticket for me, please.”

*Must be my imagination. Senior Mavis is always so gentle…*

Wait—*Senior*? The student recalled Royal Capital rumors:

Young Master Mavis was secretly female, bound by a high mage’s prophecy to live as male… until adulthood.

*What an absurd rumor.*

Lost in thought, she missed a shadow darting past her feet into the haunted house.

“Phew~ Belotti almost died of fright! So glad I wasn’t spotted!”

Succubus Belotti dispelled her kitten illusion, heart-shaped tail swishing—then snapping rigid, pointing sharply ahead.

“Mmm… this intoxicating magical scent… It’s Lord Maur! And he’s… *aroused*!”

“Hss… hss…!”

She gulped.

“So hungry… craving [censored]… Lord Maur’s delicious [censored]…”

Hss… hss…!