I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 843: No one would know

Heat rose in her cheeks again, heavier this time. The rational part of her mind recoiled at once. She was a married woman. A mother. A countess who had spent years protecting her family’s reputation.

Accepting such an arrangement would cross lines she had never imagined approaching.

She stared at him.

“You are suggesting…” Her voice came out lower than she intended. “That I take the place of my own daughter in this technique?”

Julian’s expression remained composed.

“I am suggesting that the method does not require betrothal to function. It requires a willing partner and consistent practice. You have already experienced a fraction of what it can do. If you wish to continue, the choice exists. If you do not, then nothing further needs to be said.”

Clara’s hands had curled tightly against the fabric of her gown. The crossroads she had felt only moments earlier had shifted again. One path still led toward convincing Elara or her husband. Another, quieter and far more perilous, now led directly back into this room and into the circuit she had already tasted.

“But… that would mean we would be inti…”

She could not finish the sentence.

Julian chuckled softly.

“Yes. It would mean that we would be intimate.”

He completed the thought for her and watched the shock plant itself clearly across her face. He was enjoying her reactions.

“No one would have to know, though,” he added, and finished the remark with a light wink.

Clara’s face heated even further.

Yes… no one would know.

The thought arrived before she could stop it. They could do this in silence. If it remained a secret, they could touch each other. They could kiss. They could even have se—

Her mind refused to form the full word. Heat flooded her cheeks and spread down her neck. She tried to pull herself back.

What are you thinking, Clara? Snap out of it.

The self-reprimand landed weakly. One thought had already led to another, and she found herself imagining the future despite every effort to stop. It was to the point that she was thinking what would happen after she left.

She would be leaving the duchy in two days. How would the sessions continue after that? The answer rose almost at once. Kraven was already an Arch Mage. He could certainly teleport. He could come to the county in secret, and they could continue there.

…No. No. Am I really thinking of continuing this inside my own house?

The realization hit her with full force. A suffocating flush of shame filled her chest. She could not believe the path her own mind had just walked. In the span of a few heartbeats she had gone from rejecting the idea to planning for secret dual cultivation meetings under her husband’s roof.

Taken over by the complex rush of emotion, Clara stood abruptly.

“I cannot believe you said that, Kraven.” Her voice came out sharp and controlled, though the heat in her face betrayed the turmoil beneath. “Do you not know who I am? I am the Countess of House Azmed. I am a married woman and the mother of the girl you are meant to marry. How dare you speak to me of intimacy so casually? How dare you suggest something so improper under the roof of this duchy?”

She poured every ounce of her authority and rank she possessed into the words and used them as a shield. She needed the distance.

Julian only smiled.

He said nothing. He did not defend himself, did not apologize, and did not look remotely bothered.

The silence that followed her words only made the heat in Clara’s face burn hotter. She had expected at least some reaction. However, his smile left her with nowhere to place the leftover shame and anger.

She stood up fully.

“I will forget about this conversation,” she said, her voice tight. “And you better forget it as well. Nothing of what was discussed here will leave this room. Do you understand me?”

Julian’s smile did not fade.

“As you wish, Aunty Clara.”

She turned and left without another word. The door closed firmly behind her.

In the corridor she walked with quick steps, her posture rigid and tense. Only when she had put enough distance, did she allow her hand to press briefly against her chest, feeling the still-elevated beat of her heart.

She could not bring herself to fully fathom what had just happened. Everything had changed the moment she stepped through that door. She had entered determined to measure a dangerous young man and protect her daughter. However, she left carrying the memory of pure mana, and the heavy shame of how far her own thoughts had spiraled.

Clara took a deep breath and forced her expression to remain calm. She smoothed the front of her gown, adjusted her sleeves, and continued toward the guest chambers.

**

By the time she reached the door she had restored most of the composure. Only the faint residual heat in her meridians and the lingering quickness of her pulse remained as private evidence.

She stepped inside.

Count Azmed was already awake. He sat near the open window in a loose bathrobe, a thin trail of smoke rising from the pipe resting between his fingers. The afternoon light caught the silver at his temples and the relaxed demeanor of the man still recovering from the morning’s wine. When he turned and saw her, his expression shifted at once.

“Clara?” He set the pipe aside and studied her face. “You look unsettled. Did something happen?”

She offered him a practiced smile.

“I was just touring the castle,” she said lightly. “This place is very huge. I must have walked farther than I intended.”

Azmed’s concern eased. He smiled in return and the familiar warmth returned to his eyes.

“It is an impressive estate,” he agreed. “I still get turned around in some of the older wings myself. The Duke has expanded it more times than I can count over the years.”