Lion admired intelligent girls, because he wasn't particularly smart himself.
But they couldn't be too intelligent either, for the same reason.
In the end, what Lion meant was that he had started to like this girl named Freya.
At six o'clock on the third afternoon, he had prepared the calming potion, carefully pouring the light green liquid into a transparent crystal bottle and placing it in the inner pocket of his wizard's robe.
Following the directions Freya had given him last time, Lion found her dormitory. The door was closed, so he knocked gently.
A melodious yet emotionless voice replied, "Miss Monica is studying and does not receive visitors—unless your name happens to be Lion Lannister, in which case, please come in."
Lion pushed the door open silently.
Upon entering, he saw her sitting at her desk in loose white pajamas, intently transcribing a scroll. This task wasn't difficult for a third-year student, but it required constant concentration and could not be interrupted, or all her efforts would be wasted. Lion remained silent, finding a chair and sitting down to watch her attentively dip her quill into ink and swiftly write on parchment.
One by one, characters glowing with red light appeared on the parchment, only to fade away, leaving behind faint ink traces. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead; clearly, she was at the most crucial stage of the transcription. Lion observed silently, intending to assess her abilities.
While transcribing magical scrolls was a basic skill, it could reveal one's level of proficiency.
She wrote the last character.
A dazzling red light spread from the tip of her quill, soaking the entire parchment as if in blood. Then the red light slowly dimmed, restoring the parchment to its original pale yellow hue, though faintly tinged with silvery sheen.
Flawless, Lion judged internally. Freya's basics were very solid. She hadn't made any common or uncommon mistakes during the transcription, something few fifth-year students could claim.
This couldn't be summed up simply as "careful" or "cautious." It was also a rare talent for a wizard.
Her father had indeed shown insight in choosing to send her to wizard school. The only miscalculation was not considering her mental endurance.
Freya sighed deeply and stood up, stretching her arms.
"Finished?" Lion asked with a smile.
She jumped, remembering Lion was in the room. "Oh!" she apologized hastily, "I was so engrossed..."
"Concentration is an excellent quality for a spellcaster," Lion smiled warmly and held up the bottle, "Combined with good sleep, you'll become an outstanding wizard."
Her eyes sparkled with joy. "Is this the potion that's very effective for insomnia?"
"Exactly," Lion said, "I guarantee you'll have the sweetest dream tonight..."
"A dream like never before," he emphasized.
Freya took the conical crystal bottle, examining the gently rippling light green liquid under the lamp. Lion noticed her eyes were also light green, very beautiful.
"I hope there's nothing else in it?" the little girl said, a smile curling her lips.
"The ingredients of magical potions are usually complex," Lion replied, "but their effectiveness is unquestionable."
She pondered, and Lion waited silently. Then she drank the light green liquid slowly.
"It tastes good," she said, "sweet."
"I added a bit of sugar."
"It's just my favorite," Freya said, placing the crystal bottle on the desk and walking towards Lion, stopping when they were less than half a foot apart, looking up at him.
Freya was petite, a full head shorter than Lion. From Lion's current vantage point, he could clearly see there were no clothes underneath her loose white pajamas. Following the line of her long, white neck, his gaze slowly shifted downwards, getting lost in her enticing cleavage...
"Your gaze makes me uneasy," she whispered softly, "I'm wondering if it's too impolite to receive guests dressed like this..."
Lion reached out, wrapping his arms around her slender, soft waist, feeling the two bouncy mounds pressed against his chest. Then he lowered his head, kissing her forehead, her eyebrows, her cheeks, her neck, and her delicate, elegant collarbones, savoring the delicate fragrance of her body.
Freya closed her eyes, her long lashes fluttering slightly, her cheeks flushing, her breath quickening, as if nervous or afraid, but she didn't resist at all.
"I'll give you a dream like never before," Lion said, kissing her tender, petal-like lips.
From her clumsy and inexperienced reaction during the kiss, Lion immediately judged it was her first. His tongue slipped in quietly, but Freya was at a loss, instinctively clamping her teeth shut, refusing the male intrusion.
Lion held her waist with his left arm, his right hand quietly dropping to lift her pajama hem, sliding slowly up her thigh, across her flat stomach, and finally climbing up a soft hill.
The other day, Lion had estimated her bust size as 32B, but it turned out to be wrong; it should have been a C. The soft flesh was held in his palm, changing shapes with his grip, but it always felt like it was about to overflow.
Between his fingers, he could feel the pink diamond gradually hardening.
Lion gently twisted it, and she gasped softly, her mouth slightly open, allowing the man's tongue to slip in.
Although she was a virgin unversed in love, Freya learned quickly, not inferior to her talent in magic. At first, she was at a loss, not knowing how to respond, just allowing the man to probe his tongue into her mouth, teasing her lightly, but soon she understood, returning his kiss with equal enthusiasm; her body had become numb and weak at some point, as if all her strength had been drained, and she could barely stand without Lion holding her waist.
Their lips and tongues entwined, finally separating reluctantly after a long time.
"Did you like it, Freya?" Lion asked softly, his right hand playing with her breasts for a while before slowly moving down, clinging to her smooth, satin-like skin to her stomach, and then continuing slowly downwards...
"This is what kissing feels like..." Her voice sounded dreamy and ethereal, "So nice... Oh, don't touch there..."
Lion didn't speak, just holding her tighter, his fingers slowly moving downwards. To his delight, everything they touched was smooth and hairless.
"So you're a little white tiger?" Lion kissed her cheek, biting gently on her delicate earlobe, blowing into her ear.
"Little white tiger?" She didn't understand what Lion was talking about.
But she didn't need to understand. Lion didn't answer, just continued teasing her earlobe, kissing behind her ear, a sensitive spot for many women, and Freya was no exception, her breathing becoming noticeably heavier and more labored. Inside her pajamas, Lion's fingers had reached that hidden crevice and the tiny red bean, feeling the warmth and moisture.
The young girl's body was sensitive and delicate. Just a gentle touch of his fingertips made her feel like she had been electrocuted, her whole body jerking violently, her legs instinctively clamping together, resisting Lion's fingers' further intrusion. "Stop teasing me, please..." she begged, "I can't take it... Ah..."
Lion pretended not to hear, continuing to stroke the smooth, full area, his fingers slowly rotating, probing downwards, feeling the warmth and lubrication, already damp.
She had completely lost all her strength, barely supporting herself from collapsing to the ground, her cheeks burning red and hot.
"Actually... Lion, do you know, my father..." She muttered incoherently, "Actually, my father made me like you a long time ago..."
Lion stumbled, his whole body stiffening, his already soaring desire diminishing slightly. "What?"
She didn't notice the man's reaction, hugging him more warmly and tightly, as if trying to merge their bodies into one. She was panting in Lion's ear, her breath fragrant.
"But I really like you," she said, "I like you."
Lion scooped her up in his arms and kicked open the bedroom door.