Chapter 48
But now wasn’t the time to mention that, especially to someone who’d been drinking.
“Admiral Paul Mullen—he’s my grandfather.”
Felice replied briefly.
Claude blinked.
“Ah… that makes sense.”
He chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“Now that I think about it, he was a Kelton, wasn’t he? I’d forgotten. Did the Admiral enjoy flowers in life?”
“No. He said men don’t care for those things.”
“Ha ha ha.”
Claude laughed heartily, nodding slowly.
“Interesting fellow.”
“Claude, do you like flowers?”
“Flowers? Why? Do you think I’m not a man?”
Claude suddenly leaned closer to Felice.
“Ah… no… what do you mean…”
“Then why are you asking why I like flowers?”
“Just… asking. Don’t pick a fight over it. By the way, shouldn’t we go upstairs now?”
Felice took a step back to put some distance between them. Claude watched silently, smiling faintly, then nodded.
“Right. I’m home, but the guest keeps telling the host to go to her room.”
“No. Then… you shouldn’t have gone out!”
Felice raised her voice slightly, exasperated. Claude, as if waiting for her reaction, answered promptly.
“Shall I not?”
At the same time, he hooked his arm around her waist, drawing her back in front of him.
“C-Claude!”
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I told you—I don’t want to think about anything.”
Whether from the alcohol, Claude pressed his face against Felice’s shoulder with unprecedented brazenness.
Felice intended to resist this time, but his words left her unable to protest. They resonated too deeply.
“Do you usually let yourself get led around like this?”
“Not really something to ask someone who’s lending their shoulder, I think.”
“It’s my first time leaning on someone’s shoulder like this.”
Hearing “first time,” Felice swallowed nervously.
Claude had never been in a romantic relationship, so this was all new to him. Of course, Felice hadn’t experienced romance either—but as a romance tutor, she’d been exposed to countless men, so she should have been used to this.
“…No.”
But she spoke sincerely without realizing it.
“I’m the kind of person who’s been in need of comfort. And at some point, no one came to comfort me.”
“…I see? Saying that makes me feel like a shameless scoundrel, taking advantage of a flea.”
Felice laughed so hard her shoulders shook. Claude, however, still rested quietly on her shoulder, eyes closed.
“You’re a flea prince, then.”
“…Ha!”
Felice’s nickname made Claude laugh and tilt his head, glaring at her. Yet the eyes that leaned on her shoulder were hidden from her view.
“But, rather than receiving comfort, giving it feels better to me right now.”
“The flea did his job, then.”
“Now, go inside and get some sleep. It’s very late.”
Felice gently tapped his back, guiding him upright. Claude, eyes closed, flinched slightly, feeling as though it was the gentle touch of a wife waking him in the morning.
“…You can go up by yourself, right?”
Felice asked.
He had intended to say he couldn’t. But her face was red, and he found himself agreeing.
She was silent, though his imagination ran wild. Claude entered the bedroom, face red, pressing his hand to it.
Was it the alcohol? Or…
“Haah…”
Claude exhaled deeply. His lower body had stood up like an adolescent boy. He frowned at himself.
“At this rate. I’m one horny dog.”
He shrugged off his coat, but the thought of Felice just now made the corner of his mouth twitch into a grin.
“…What should I do? She seems completely uninterested.”
Claude paused his buttoning, deep in thought.
“Using class as an excuse is probably the best idea.”
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