Chapter 174

Natalie had made quite a mess. Not just her sloppy throat-fucking of Camille, or when she’d violently rubbed Camille’s saliva around her face and further ruined her makeup, but also the pool of cum that had covered Camille’s uniform when the illusion had disappeared. Seeing how they needed to return to class, that wasn’t great for staying inconspicuous.

Fortunately, Natalie had some fantastic loot from yesterday to help: the cleaning liquid. It could only do so much for ruined make-up, obviously, but when it came to scrubbing away cum stains and whatever those secretions from Camille’s vines had been, it was a miracle cure. After rubbing their clothes dry with paper towels and waiting for the cleaning liquid to fade naturally—and it seemed to dry in clothing much faster, rather than leaving an oily residue like it did when applied on skin—they even managed to become presentable before class ended. They returned to the sparring courtyard shortly.

Which wasn’t to say that their indiscretionary excursion had gone unnoticed. Instructor Robin’s silver eyes locked on the two of them as soon as they walked in. Her expression stayed neutral, no implication or suspicion on her face, but nonetheless, Natalie had to repress a flush as silver eyes tracked her around, making a point of noticing her absence. Natalie tried to act normal. Did she know what they’d been up to? Or have suspicions? More importantly, would she say anything about it?

Even worse, the older woman’s attention lingered on Natalie through the rest of the class. And Natalie found the answer to her question after the bell rang: the tall Theliosian woman—white hair like Sofia’s—waved Natalie over for a word as everyone, including Camille, filtered away. Camille hesitated as she saw Natalie being confronted, shrugged, and mouthed ‘good luck’ before she went. Jordan likewise spared her an amused look, though her general expression said more along the lines of, ‘you get what you deserve’, than anything.

Natalie wondered if her behavior had finally caught up with her. Why else would Instructor Robin pull her to the side? The instructor didn’t hasten to explain, either: she simply studied Natalie, arms crossed as she considered—well, who knew what?

“So, uh,” Natalie said, unable to suffer through the awkward silence. “Is there anything I can do for you, ma’am?”

Cool silver eyes flicked up and down Natalie, and a prim eyebrow arched nearly mockingly. From what Natalie had seen of Instructor Robin, the woman was a stalwart professional, brokering no inefficiency and, while not exactly stony, definitely not a woman who could be described as ‘warm and friendly’ in any capacity. Along with holding great respect for her—as Natalie did most combat instructors at Tenet, considering the reputation required to even earn a spot at the prestigious academy—Natalie quite liked the woman. Which was probably why her cheeks were flaming at potentially being caught, and also at how she had chosen to play dumb in front of her. Maybe honesty would be better. Or at least more respectful, not insulting the Instructor’s intelligence.

“We do, unfortunately, need to have this discussion,” Instructor Robin said, uncrossing her arms. “As my student, your well-being is my concern. I’ve seen too many promising young men and women have their careers stifled through imprudent decisions. And from what I’ve seen of you in class, Natalie, you are exceptional in both those regards. Your potential, and your tendency toward rashness.”

“Uh,” Natalie said. “Thank you?”

“Tell me. You have at least been using protection?”

Protection?

Natalie’s brain short-circuited. She had expected a scolding, but—she was being asked if she’d used protection?

“S-Sorry?”

“Condoms, Natalie,” Instructor Robin said. “If you’re so unwisely skipping my instruction time to indulge in fleeting temptations, then you’re doing so with the minimum amount of forethought, I hope. As I said—you’re my student, so it is my concern.”

Natalie’s mouth opened and closed as she floundered for a response. Beyond the mortification of this conversation in general, the words indicated that Instructor Robin knew about—well, her cock. And how? Was her skirt hiding less than she thought? Maybe that was fair, especially in a combat situation, with Instructor Robin analyzing her. But so were the rest of her classmates. Did that mean everyone knew, by this point? Maybe hoping it remained a secret had been too hopeful.