Chapter 50
Chapter 50: Information Organization and Shameful Play
After crouching alone in the bathroom for half an hour, through some attempts and contemplation, Funis had grasped three pieces of effective information.
First, she was indeed currently in the special state that succubi only exhibit when lacking magical power.
Her horns had retracted, her facial features had slightly adjusted, her hair had lost its magical pigmentation, and her body had automatically begun intensifying the release of her seductive fragrance—every aspect was designed to help an extremely hungry succubus blend in more closely with ordinary humans to facilitate hunting for prey.
Funis hadn’t guessed wrong; this was indeed a hunting posture.
Charlotte had been affected by the seductive fragrance, with her compassion and fondness upgraded to the level of love.
But for some unknown reason, in her panic, Funis had suddenly mastered the technique of freely controlling the release of her seductive fragrance. After the concentration decreased and she was startled awake by stimulation, Charlotte quickly regained her senses as well.
Yes, Funis could now control the release and suppression of her seductive fragrance herself. That inexplicable headache might have been the trigger.
From now on, she wouldn’t need to worry about randomly charming passersby—just maintaining the concentration that increased favorable impressions would be sufficient.
Second, although she had displayed the succubus’s hunting posture, she wasn’t actually lacking magical power.
The magical power loss from activating her authority was only temporary. In reality, Funis’s magical power had already returned to normal levels while she slept, but her appearance continued to maintain the same form.
Cesya had said she was a special succubus, and she seemed to possess abilities that ordinary succubi didn’t have.
For example, the ability to actively choose to switch freely between hunting posture and normal posture, even when magical power was sufficient.
In other words, whether Funis wanted to grow horns and return to silver hair was entirely up to her will. From now on, she could choose to present herself to others with either Celi’s or Funis’s appearance and identity.
Third, Charlotte had taken the nameplate.
Charlotte had never voluntarily revealed her name to “Celi,” but in her emergency, Funis hadn’t been able to consider so much and had called it out directly.
She had become suspicious, but the direction of her suspicion seemed to be that “Celi” had met with Sera before, and that nameplate from the Temperance Institute was given to “Celi” by Sera. This way, it would be reasonable for “Celi” to learn of Charlotte’s existence from Sera.
Just by describing her appearance briefly, it would be nearly impossible to mistake Charlotte for someone else.
Golden hair and blue eyes with noble features weren’t common in the archipelago. Charlotte’s bloodline came from aristocratic families.
Charlotte’s biological father, Mr. Conrad, came from the Turse family of the Korenzo Kingdom—ancient and distinguished, with a noble title inherited from a prince. The family had also married into the royal family multiple times throughout history and was known as the empire’s tulip.
However, Mr. Conrad wasn’t the family’s eldest son. His elder brother was the current famous Duke of Winchester. In this era when secular nobility was gradually declining, Conrad, who had no inheritance rights, chose to leave the family and head to Vatican, the papal capital, to seek his dreams and future.
After acknowledging Sera as her adoptive father, Charlotte directly changed her surname to Fred, completely severing ties with her original family.
However, this noble appearance couldn’t be easily changed. Anyone who saw Charlotte would think of Princess Deloris of the Korenzo Kingdom. They both had golden hair and blue eyes, with royal blood flowing in their veins.
So Charlotte came from a ducal family and was, by bloodline, a proper young lady of noble birth. However, under Sera’s nine years of upbringing, her behavioral habits weren’t so particular, appearing rather carefree and informal.
After learning a complete set of court lady etiquette from Cesya, Funis now felt somewhat sorry to Mr. Conrad for not also cultivating Charlotte into a qualified lady.
It wasn’t just to wash away those shameful fluids, but also to summarize and contemplate these three pieces of information that Funis had chosen to hide in the bathroom before answering Charlotte’s questions.
Moreover, she couldn’t continue wearing the underwear Charlotte had prepared—the mobile fountain was truly unseemly.
Funis still had spare Flossan white snow cotton special underwear, which she had also hidden in the compartment of her ammunition pouch—rather than calling it an ammunition pouch, it was more like a miscellaneous bag, since Funis basically stuffed everything she had into it.
As for the short sword and revolver, she also needed to think of an excuse to gloss over them, or else there would be no way to explain why a girl who had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a witch would have these dangerous items on her.
After drying her body and putting on the special underwear, Funis emerged from the bath.
Charlotte didn’t pay much attention to Funis bringing her own underwear. She had dashed across three streets at lightning speed to buy vanilla ice cream as an apology, crying and making a fuss like a child, wanting Funis to forgive her.
But actually, the fault lay with Funis herself. It was because she hadn’t been able to control her seductive fragrance that such a situation had occurred—Charlotte couldn’t be entirely blamed.
However, since the sweet treat was already offered, Funis gladly accepted her apology, licking it clean with contentment and joy under Charlotte’s grateful and moved gaze.
Afterward, Charlotte didn’t rush to continue asking about her adoptive father’s situation. She simply placed the six large bags of clothing she had bought in front of Funis for her to choose from.
Funis was dumbfounded, because all those dresses, stockings, and shoes had been selected according to her measurements. The fashion shops in the George District used quality materials, so the clothing wasn’t cheap—a rough estimate put the expenditure at least ten gold coins or more.
Could it be that her precious adoptive daughter was now in a high-income bracket? Spending so lavishly on clothes for a girl she’d picked up?
Funis didn’t dare ask about the financial situation, afraid she might accidentally slip into Sera’s demeanor and give herself away.
On the Golden Rose, the dresses Cesya had prepared for her were mostly pure white formal gowns of various styles, leaning toward dignified elegance. The use of ruffles at the hem, sleeves, and neckline was relatively restrained and conservative, with reasonable pleats and lace trim as the main decorations, striving to create a cold and ladylike image in public.
Charlotte clearly preferred fluffy, layered silk gauze and cascading ruffles, along with color schemes where warm and cool tones collided and merged, with bright, lively, and cute as the main elements.
Funis finally chose a black and white dress with gold thread embroidery.
She chose it because it was relatively the most modest among the six bags, but even so, the silk gauze at the skirt was still piled four layers thick, making each step feel like dragging weights.
But it was cute enough.
Standing in front of the mirror, no matter how inconvenient it was to wear, she was instantly reconciled.
However, such elaborate long dresses typically required everything except shoes to be put on before the dress itself, with corsets and stockings coming first. So Charlotte excitedly found an extremely thin white silk stocking.
“Little Celi, let’s put on the stockings first, shall we? Look at this pair—it has patterns, isn’t it especially cute? Should big sister help you put them on?” She looked at Funis sitting in front of the full-length mirror, her gaze wandering over those slender, pale feet, almost drooling.
Funis had already confirmed that her seductive fragrance was still maintained at the lowest concentration, so why did Charlotte still look strange?
As for the white silk stockings…
Funis had a love-hate relationship with such long stockings.
She liked their figure-enhancing beauty but hated the intense stimulation brought by their tight, clinging embrace.
Now that she had finally temporarily escaped Cesya’s clutches and didn’t need to deliberately cater to Cesya’s twisted tastes anymore, was it still necessary for her to continue wearing them?
However, in this era, it seemed to have become common knowledge and habit among women that legs under elaborate dresses must be covered by silk stockings—not wearing them would seem very strange.
Of course, this definitely wasn’t Funis making excuses for herself.
She definitely wasn’t developing some kind of special fetish that would make her feel empty if her legs weren’t continuously compressed…
Definitely not!
“I’ll put them on myself—” Funis was about to agree.
Charlotte suddenly whooshed down to kneel beside her feet, the white silk stocking already rolled into a tube in her hands, ready to deploy. “Great! Big sister will help you put them on! Sit still and be good, little Celi!”
“Eh?”
Funis, whose words had been interrupted, looked completely bewildered.
Having her adoptive daughter help her put on stockings with this extremely sensitive constitution? What kind of shameful play was this?! No way!